Run to Me (20 page)

He narrowed his eyes as he weighed
the facts. Ballinger had told him back at the ‘safe house’ that all three boys had seen where Giles hid the case. Was he smart enough to lie about something like that? Maybe. He’d been smart about a hell of a lot of other things.

Still, even if he’d lied, at this stage the decision was about priorities. Since Ballinger was their greatest risk and Vanessa now had the other two . . .

Tragg put
the phone back to his ear. ‘Farrell?’

‘Right here. What’s the verdict?’

‘Kill the woman and get the kid back alive if you can. If you can’t, do ’em both.’

Zack lay watching the crazy lady from across the room. He’d woken intermittently throughout the day and, except for the one time she’d brought him some lunch, she’d been in the exact same spot every time.

For a while the sight of her seated
at the window, rifle in hand, had reassured him – she was watching out for him, taking care of him, just as she’d promised. But as the afternoon wore on, her obsessive vigilance was slowly starting to creep him out. If Nolan was dead, who was she watching for? How did she even know there were more people after him?

The other thing was, she kept calling him Jesse. That was more than a little bit
weird. He’d tried to tell her his name was Zack but she’d laughed like he was making a joke. So was she actually truly crazy? The thought he was being guarded by a nutcase wasn’t all that reassuring. Still, better than no one, he supposed. And, crazy or not, she had killed Nolan.

So who the hell was she looking for out there? Ghosts? Monsters? Hideous mutants only she could see? Maybe she was
just making sure, playing it safe. Probably a little creeped out herself. Anyone would be after killing a man.

Then again, maybe she hadn’t killed Nolan. What if she’d just knocked him out and he’d woken up later and run away? Back to Vanessa. To get reinforcements. Maybe the two of them were out there right now, sneaking up on the cabin with guns. And maybe this time they weren’t alone.

He
pushed himself up. ‘You see anyone?’

The crazy lady’s head snapped towards him. For an instant
the rifle pointed his way. Then her face cleared and she rose from the chair.

‘Hey now, you get back under those covers. You’re not ready to be up and around yet.’ She set the rifle on the table and gently eased him down to the pillows.

‘Is there?’ he said.

‘Is there what?’

‘Anyone out there.’

‘No, sweetheart, nobody’s there. And anyway, I told you, you don’t have to worry. I’ll look after you.’

Zack stared up at her. Did she really think she could protect him? If Tragg found them, she had no idea what she’d be up against.

Shyler stroked the side of his face. She could see her words hadn’t assured him; the glint of fear was still in his eyes. Her poor little boy, he’d been through
so much. She needed to distract him.

‘Would you like me to make you another sandwich?’

He shook his head.

‘Milk and cookies?’

‘No thanks.’

She smoothed a lock of hair from his brow. ‘Maybe you should try to get some more sleep.’

‘I’m sick of sleeping.’

She smiled. ‘That’s a good sign. It means you’re getting better.’ She settled onto the floor beside him. ‘How about I tell you a story then?’

He nearly laughed. Was she kidding? What kind of baby did she think he was? Still, her voice and touch were so soothing. And he just couldn’t seem to get enough of her smile.

He sighed and lay back. ‘Yeah, okay.’

They left Farrell’s car hidden among trees and approached the rear of the cabin on foot.

‘Here’s where I struggled with Ballinger,’ Nolan said, indicating the furrows in the mulch.
‘I nearly had him in the car when that bitch snuck up and clobbered me.’ Spotting a patch of dried blood on a leaf –
his
blood – he felt a rush of anger. God, when he got his hands on these two . . .!

Farrell had walked on, ignoring his excuses. Nolan caught up to him behind a boulder just as he was closing his mobile.

‘You called Tragg?’

‘The man likes to be kept informed. Just letting him
know we found the place and that there looks to be somebody inside.’

‘How do you know?’

Farrell held up a pair of binoculars. ‘Smoke’s still coming out of the chimney and I can see some kind of lantern burning.’ He tucked the glasses back in his pack, pulled something else out and shoved it at Nolan.

Nolan stared down at the cold alien object in his hands. ‘Strange as it may seem in this day
and age, I’ve never fired a gun before.’

‘You don’t have to hit anything,’ Farrell said, loading a clip into his automatic. ‘Just stay back here and, when I give you the signal, fire in the air every few seconds till I tell you to stop.’

‘What if I run out of bullets?’

‘Your magazine holds thirty rounds – that should be plenty. But just in case . . .’ He slapped another into Nolan’s hand, then
got to his feet.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Around the front. Only take me a couple of minutes to get in position so be ready.’

Nolan took his arm before he could leave. ‘I know what you’re doing. You’re using me to draw her fire.’

Farrell’s gun rose to an inch from his face. ‘Maybe you’d rather draw mine instead.’

When Nolan let go, Farrell grabbed the front of his shirt. ‘You’re here to stop
them running out this way. You’re here to fix the enormous fuck-up you allowed to get out of hand. So whatever I tell you to do, you do.’ He shoved Nolan back and walked away.

‘Stop! I don’t want to hear anymore.’ Zack pressed his face into the pillow to hide an unexpected rush of emotion. He was starting to feel like maybe he was a baby after all.

‘Why, what is it? Are you in pain?’ The crazy
lady sat bending over him.

‘No. It’s a stupid story, that’s all. I don’t want to hear it.’

‘But Hansel and Gretel was always your favourite. You always loved –’

‘Well, I don’t any more!’ He turned with the words, in time to catch her startled reaction. The outburst surprised him as much as her. He didn’t even know if he was angry or sad.

‘Jesse, what’s wrong?’

Christ on a broomstick! Jesse
again. Hadn’t he told her . . . And how did she know what his favourite story was? ‘Nothing.’

‘Of course there is. Come on, tell me.’

‘Are you deaf? I said it’s a stupid story!’

‘All right, what’s so stupid about it?’

He closed his eyes. He was being a jerk, an absolute shit. And she wasn’t even shouting or anything.

Suddenly all his anger dissolved. ‘Why did the father send his kids away
if he loved them?’

She thought a moment. ‘His new wife didn’t like them, I suppose.’

‘Why didn’t she like them? What was wrong with them?’

‘Nothing was wrong with them. I think she was jealous. Maybe she could see how much the father loved them and she was afraid he’d never love her that much.’

He shook his head. ‘That’s not why.’

‘No? Well, what do you think the reason was?’

‘They were
lousy kids. The father never really loved them. He was just too weak to dump them until the new wife forced him to.’

Her mouth fell open. ‘Why on earth would you think that?’

‘Because I know.’ His anger was returning. ‘And it works both ways. Mothers ditch their kids when they find a new guy. A guy who doesn’t want their bastards.’

She reached out and took his face in her hands. ‘Jesse, I don’t
know where this is coming from, but I want you to know you are the most loved and cherished little boy on the face of this earth.’

He choked back a sob. Were he only able to accept her words his world would change. But it wasn’t him she was saying them to. All that love, all that caring, was for someone else!

‘You crazy cow! I’m not Jesse!’

She drew back and gaped. Slowly astonishment changed
to confusion, fear, denial. Had it finally sunk in? Was she really seeing him? What now, if she was? After all she’d given him, what had he done?

‘I’m sorry,’ he said and reached out a hand.

It was then the lamp beside them exploded.

Suddenly Zack was on the floor, the woman’s weight bearing down on him. The cabin’s front windows blew inward, spraying a blizzard of glass through the room. Dishes shattered on the kitchen counter. Pots came to life and flew off their hooks. Stuffing filled the air like confetti as bullets stitched across the couch.

The woman rolled off him. ‘Come on! This way!’ She flipped the coffee
table on its side for cover and on hands and knees they circled the couch.

Around the back he fell against its sheltering bulk and hunched in terror. Though the woman was frantically waving him on, he could go no further; his muscles had locked.

Her arm swept around him. With the rifle in her other hand she propelled them towards the kitchen table. They’d just slid beneath it when the chair
she’d pushed aside jigged convulsively, leapt into the air and hit the wall in a mass of splinters.

A hail of bullets glanced off the table top. He cowered and screamed. The woman seemed suddenly undecided. She’d been heading for the back door. She must have planned to get out that way. Why had she stopped? Had she lost her nerve? Was she just going to sit here and let them get slaughtered?

Shyler sat frozen as reality sank in. Her efforts to secure the cabin had failed. Through a brief lull in the gunfire from the front of the house she’d distinctly heard single shots coming from the back. Though this was the very scenario she’d feared, though she’d done all she could to keep it from happening, somehow they’d found a way through her defences.

Bullets strafed the table and Jesse
cried out. She clutched him to her. How could she have let this happen?

But was the cabin completely surrounded? She strained to listen and could make out only two distinct weapons, presumably being fired by only two men – one at the front, one at the back. Which meant the side windows might be clear.

She grabbed Jesse’s shoulders and turned him to face the nearest wall. ‘The ladder to the loft,’
she yelled above the din. ‘Run to it and climb up as fast as you can.’

Zack judged the distance as less than six feet. It might just as well have been six miles. ‘No way! I can’t.’

‘I’ll be right behind you. Do it. Now!’

Committed to action by her shove, Zack scrambled out from under cover. He half-ran, half-crawled, reaching the ladder just as more shots slammed the table.

Panic seared through
him. Had the woman been hit? But even as he took his first step up he felt her body against his back.

‘Jesse, go!’

He struggled to climb. It seemed like a lead weight was tied to his ankle. ‘I can’t. My leg!’

Shyler knocked a picture frame off the wall and hung her rifle from its hook. Shielding his body with her own she pushed him up. Each step seemed to take an eternity. Each seemed certain
to be their last. When a volley of pellets hit her back she nearly fell, but it was just shards from a shattering vase.

They were nearly to the top. She’d just curled her fingers around the last rung when the firing from the front of the house cut off. In the echoing silence an image filled her head: that of the gunmen charging the cabin.

Nolan held the gun above his head and fired. The first
few shots had stung his hand but now he was used to the pistol’s recoil. In a way, he liked it. There was a tremendous feeling of power in that kick. And the more he thought about what the woman had done to him, what the boy had caused him, the more he wanted to aim that deadly power at them.

He got to his feet behind the boulder. Screw this firing into the air bullshit. He wanted to get closer,
wanted to see if he could actually hit one of them. The bitch hadn’t fired a single shot yet. Clearly, she was overwhelmed by their assault.

He peered out from behind the rock and sighted a large tree nearer the cabin. From there he’d be able to see in the back window. The bitch would be so distracted by Farrell she wouldn’t notice him until too late.

Nolan broke cover. As he ran for the tree
he heard Farrell’s fire abruptly cut off. It didn’t matter. The man had told him to keep shooting until he said stop and that’s exactly what he planned to do. The only difference was, now, he’d be shooting at someone.

With a final heave, Shyler pushed Jesse into the loft. She followed him up then reached down to grab her rifle off the hook. Her fingertips had just brushed its strap when the front
door burst open and a figure in black fired an arc of bullets around the room.

She pulled back, praying the man hadn’t spotted her. With luck he might check the other rooms first and she’d still have a
chance to retrieve her weapon. But as she held her breath in the silence that followed she heard not the creak of the gunman’s footsteps but her rifle scraping against the wall as it swung on the
hook.

No doubt the gunman had seen it as well and now knew exactly where they were.

Outside, Nolan charged.

Leaping over a fallen log he felt like Bruce Willis in
Die Hard 2
. Maybe he could get a job with Farrell. Guns were his thing, he was fast discovering. Nothing he’d done in his life before compared to this.

With a final burst of speed he ran for the cabin. His target tree was just up
ahead. Twenty paces with nothing to stop him. He dodged a branch, jumped one last rock. And collapsed, screaming, to the ground.

Zack watched the woman scrambling around the loft on her hands and knees. She’d lost it for sure this time – fear had taken out the last of her marbles. As scared as he was, he couldn’t help hating her. Wasn’t there a grown-up in this world he could count on?

She pawed
through the bedding on the double mattress then moved to the little chest beside it. In the second drawer down she found what she’d apparently been searching for. Though what possible good a nail file could be against men with machine guns he had no idea!

Clutching the tool, she returned to the ladder. As she lay face down – doing God knew what – Zack stole a look over the edge of the loft.