Come Hell or High Desire (23 page)

Chapter Thirty-three

Drop that thing about happily ever after, then leave us again, why don’t you.

Sloane squeezed the hands of the children on either side of her. Their terrified eyes
would haunt her for a long time. She couldn’t carry both of them, so she slowed her
pace as much as she dared. How was Colette taking their abduction? She’d faked her
grief over Dallan. Could she be as heartless with her own children?

They turned out of the alley onto the blister-hot sidewalk on Broadway. Clouds hugged
the tops of the buildings, their gray underbellies a portent of yet more rain. A scrolling
digital display proclaimed ninety-five degrees and ninety percent humidity.
Suffocating.
Suddenly she didn’t want to live downtown anymore.

Then she remembered she no longer had a home there, anyway.

A slow rumble of thunder ricocheted around them, reverberating off the faded brick
façades. Kate looked up blankly, and a new urgency lit up Sloane’s nerves. “Take another
sip of water, sweetheart.”

One more block to meet Archie
. One block to decide if she was going to trust that he was who Zack thought he was.

And not another whack job.

So far Zack had a pretty pathetic record. Kasey. Ross. Morgan. They’d been in his
life for years. He’d trusted them, and look what they’d done to him.

Her pulse skittered when she spotted the blue SUV. She squinted, trying to feel something.
Good guy or bad?
Nothing. If she touched the truck, would
that
tell her what she needed to know? Her stomach somersaulted along with another roll
of thunder.

When the last two hundred feet separated them, a man got out of the SUV. He was bald.

And intimidating as hell.

Beads of sweat at her hairline slid down the side of her face. The man began weaving
between a group of people who’d exited a shop when a police car turned the corner
onto the strip.

“Come!” She pulled the children off the sidewalk and hid them between two parked cars.
“Kate, hang on to your brother. Stay down, I’ll be right back.” She dashed out into
the street, waving her arms until the squad car stopped in the middle of the street.

A salt and pepper-haired officer rolled down the window with a frown. “Ma’am, what—”

“Sir! Those children over there are the missing O’Neill kids. They need immediate
medical attention!” She raced over to the children, glancing to see where Archie was,
but he’d hung back when he saw her interacting with the cop. She took the children
by the hand and rushed back to the cruiser. People on the sidewalk were staring. The
officer stood outside his vehicle. After halting traffic, he opened the back door
for them. “I need your name and how you came by these children.”

“Sloane Swift. I was tied up in an underground passageway with these children until
Zack Goldman freed us. Ross Julik and a woman named Morgan are the guilty ones.”

“All right, I’ll take your statement at the hospital. I need you to get in the car,
ma’am.”

Sloane attempted to locate Archie, but there was no sign of him. Had he left, or was
he hiding somewhere? She squeezed Kate and Derek before gently pushing them toward
the back seat. “It’ll be all right now. In you go.”

“You, too, Ms. Swift.”

The officer was moving his body to block her.
Now or never.
She twisted away from the open door and ran toward the opposite sidewalk. She heard
the officer yelling, but didn’t stop. She needed to put as much distance between them
as possible.

And between her and Archie. Lord, she hoped he’d decided to leave.

She ran hard for three blocks, ignoring the jarring pain in her arm and people’s looks
as she dashed by.
What the hell am I doing running from the police?
She hadn’t done anything wrong. But she wouldn’t be able to help Zack if she was
detained.

Three blocks later, out of breath and adrenaline, she stopped in front of her favorite
antique shop, looking behind her. No sign of Archie.

She put a hand to her chest and entered the building. A confused look quickly replaced
a wave from the shop owner, but fortunately she was occupied with another customer.
As casually as possible, Sloane made her way to the exit near the rear of the store,
glancing at a narrow grandfather clock, its heavy pendulum a sickening reminder that
there was only so much time left.
Twelve-thirty-three.

The storefront bell jingled again, and she knew without looking.

Archie
.

Forgetting caution, she sprinted toward the back door, hearing Archie swear, cracking
baskets and shattering glass as he tore after her. By the time they were both in the
alley he was gaining on her.

“Stop, dammit! Why are you running?”

Because you can’t be who Zack thinks you are.
She swerved to upend a large stack of freight that had been unloaded but not brought
inside yet. It slowed him down, but not nearly enough. If she could make it to the
end of the alley, maybe he’d hang back again.

“If you care about Zack, stop!” But he didn’t let her decide. Her head snapped forward
the instant he tackled her around the knees, and they both went down hard. The air
whooshed out of her lungs, and she must’ve hit her head and passed out for few seconds
because she woke up face down in the gravel with Archie sitting on top of her, breathing
heavily.

“
Jesus H Christ
, woman. Don’t know what he’s thinking, hooking up with you.”

She gagged. Her arm was surely dislocated—if not broken—this time. The nausea nearly
did her in, but dying would be worse. She thrashed to unseat him.

He cursed viciously. “All right! You’ve been enough damn trouble. I’ll help Zack by
myself since you obviously don’t give a fuck about him the way he hopes you do
.
”

Wait, what?

Archie got off of her and started jogging down the alley away from her.

A trick?

“Wait!” she called after him, but he didn’t slow down. Didn’t even look back.

She staggered to her feet, cradling her arm. “Archie, please!” He finally stopped,
but didn’t turn around. Her throat ached with the need to cry. “I thought you were…like
the others. Kasey, Ross, Morgan. They all betrayed him. I…I love Zack.
God, I do.
I need to help him, but I don’t know how to…trust you.”

He turned around, jaw rigid. He reached for something in his waistband, and she tensed.
He withdrew a small but wicked looking blade. He tossed it on the ground a few feet
in front of her seconds before the first fat raindrops began pelting the alley.

“How’s that for insurance? Now get moving. I’m driving.”

Chapter Thirty-four

Zack adjusted the wig and hat combo that Carmen had outfitted for him and tried to
modulate his breathing as he made his way upstream through the nervous throngs of
people at the mall, getting steadily closer to the epicenter of the coming drama.
Local law enforcement was in the process of evacuating the building, but he’d still
never seen so many people there at once.

He was twenty feet away from the expansive, eight story pavilion that housed the new
amusement park when the power surged and went down amid screams of panic. The emergency
generators immediately kicked on, powering only about a quarter of the lights that
had been on previously.

Great.
Morgan, or the weather?

The storm had moved in fast, sucking light from the sky and reducing the mall’s spectacular
skylights to shadow-casters in the park, which was set up like an ancient forest complete
with dinosaurs, tall trees, rock waterfalls, and bushy plant life. Shades of gray
slid across the lose-your-lunch roller coaster that looped around the whole mess.

Watching for police, Zack broke through the crowd to run toward a much tamer carousel
where he crouched in the shadows, focusing on the motionless Ferris wheel about fifty
yards ahead.

According to Sloane’s vision, Ann was in one of those buckets.

She’d even predicted the gray desolation bathing this place. He hoped she and the
kids were at the hospital by now. He noted the time—
forty minutes to detonation—
then panned the vicinity around him while shucking off the light-colored wig and hat.

More officers were arriving by the minute, and the crowds were rapidly thinning, but
where the hell was the SWAT bomb squad? A trickle of sweat ran between his pecs, and
he quietly filled his lungs before sprinting to the base of Drop Tower. Lightning
briefly illuminated the grotesque faces painted on the seats of the Flying Condor,
and for a moment he thought a sound had come from the ride.

He moved farther into the shadow of the hundred foot steel tower, gauging how he might
use the park’s forest features to get to the Ferris wheel unseen. The ride manufacturers
had tested the machines last week, so he knew it was operable. If he could get to
the power box, he could figure out how to operate it and hopefully get Ann down before
they cuffed him.
Or at least get the wheel turning before they shoot me.

Comforting thought.

Then it was up to the bomb squad…if they ever got here.

Thirty-five minutes
.

Faint, feminine strains of Pearl Jam’s
Black
floated underneath the military-style orders issuing from an officer’s megaphone.
Zack’s muscles clenched from his shoulders to his fists as the last of the crowd filed
down the hallway and out of sight. The large space made it difficult to determine
where the voice had originated.

But it was definitely Morgan.

Pearl Jam had been one of her favorite bands since forever. As various law enforcement
officers spread out to investigate, he grasped the cool metal bars, scaling up the
side of Drop Tower. And up. And
up
even higher, until he didn’t dare look down. The best he could guess, Morgan might
be near Screamin’ Swing, but he couldn’t tell how high she was. He didn’t think she
was on the ground level, but it didn’t sound like she was on the balcony that overlooked
the park either.

The problem was, if she
was
on the balcony, she’d have a clear view of him running toward the Ferris wheel. Unless
he could make it to the roller coaster and cover some distance in the enclosed, special
effects section…

He
had
to stay hidden. She’d shoot him no matter how much she imagined she loved him. Her
situation was too desperate.

He climbed higher still.

“It didn’t have to turn out this way, you know.”

His gut somersaulted, but he didn’t dare respond. The police didn’t either.

Yet.

Sounded like she was somewhere in the vicinity of the massive Tree of Life, some fifty
feet to his left.

“I can’t believe you’re surprised.” Her laughter erupted, brittle and empty, leaving
a sense of desolation as it faded.

Though they’d proceed carefully, the police were surely closing in on her location
by now.
Don’t let her kill anyone
.

His fingers began to cramp on the reinforced steel side of the amusement ride. He
was as high as he could go, but it would probably be enough. The rollercoaster was
eye-level about five feet away. He looked down, stomach in his throat. He was six
stories up, though the cold concrete below didn’t bother him as much as what Morgan
might have up her sleeve.

And how much time Ann had left.

He looked at the rollercoaster again. If he could get enough leverage to jump over
to it, he could make his way inside the special effects tunnel that looped between
Drop Tower and the Ferris wheel, and remain hidden for about forty feet. From there,
he’d have to wing it in plain sight. Hopefully the shadows would be to his advantage.

If Morgan was actually where he thought she might be.

And she didn’t move again.

Another bolt of lightning shining through the skylights helped illuminate the crisscrossing
bars of the roller coaster track.
Just like monkey bars.
He’d always hated playing on those.

He bent his knees and lunged from the metal tower, one sweaty hand slipping off the
rollercoaster track. His body dangled, swinging sixty feet off the ground, the fingers
of his other hand beginning to slide. Forearm and bicep flexing in a one-armed pull-up,
he grasped the railing with his free hand, then swung his legs up toward the open
triangle of the track’s underbelly. Once his legs were wedged into the opening, he
saw movement below him. He scanned the floor until he saw a camo-garbed, helmeted
man slip behind the ticket booth.

Quick. Silent. Predatory.

SWAT was in the house. They’d better have brought the bomb team.

A rumble of thunder rolled through the now quiet space, vibrating the metal like an
oncoming train. He pushed his legs through the opening on the bottom of the rollercoaster
track, then pulled himself the rest of the way through. He moved on hands and knees
toward the special effects tunnel, careful not to fall through the large holes, hoping
Morgan or SWAT wouldn’t gut him from below. As he made it around a curve six feet
from the tunnel, he was finally able to see into the top seat of the Ferris wheel.

His hands plowed through his hair. Slumped back in the chair, the luminescence of
Ann’s exposed throat stood out in sharp relief against the black box on her chest.
Jesus
. It was actually strapped to her body!
Fuck
.

He watched the bomb, hoping to notice a slight rise and fall that would indicate she
was still alive. She looked much too pale, but then, she’d always avoided the sun.

And after losing all that blood in the miscarriage…

Can’t think about that now.
Maybe he’d be able to cut the straps tying the bomb to her. It didn’t look very sophisticated.
Now if a pair of scissors would just magically appear, things would be looking up.

Bang!

He flattened himself to the rails as a bullet flew by way too close for comfort, shattering
a window high above him. Not many handguns carried that kind of power.

Which meant Morgan had a rifle.

“Cease fire! This is lieutenant Rod Carver with Red River Valley SWAT. Toss your weapons
in the open and come out with your hands up.”

Only wind and rain splatter against the skylights greeted Lt. Carver’s ear-splitting,
megaphoned demand. Zack inched forward, the FX tunnel’s entrance still seeming miles
away. He stopped when a strange feeling passed through him. He looked down toward
the west side of the park, his body going numb.

A shadowy figure ducked behind the rock waterfall near the Scorpion. And then a moment
later… Another.

More SWAT? Surely they had the place locked down by now. No one else should be able
to get in. Unless someone had gotten inside before the evacuation was complete.

Or had successfully hidden.
There were a crazy lot of nooks, crannies, plants, and caves in the park.

Zack eased forward on the track again when the Scorpion blared to life, its four arms
lifting in a frenzied display of colors and music. With the rest of the park mostly
encased in shadows, the circles of empty cars looked possessed, the heavy metal music
a sinister accompaniment to the wicked twirling of the Scorpion’s limbs.

He crouched to race toward the tunnel when a barrage of bullets sprayed the Scorpion,
busting lights, zinging off the metal cars, and likely plugging the life-sized plaster
dinosaurs lined up behind the ride, until the cars stopped mid-air, the music fading
on a discordant, sickening note.

He scrambled for the tunnel.
Thank God.
He made it. He rested for a moment to take stock and re-pump oxygen to his brain.
Morgan had some serious firepower. An UZI maybe? She could get her hands on anything.
Weapons, drugs, you name it.

But who’d turned on the Scorpion? Didn’t seem like a SWAT maneuver, yet distraction
or intimidation was clearly the intent.

Run, Zack. Hurry!

His heart kicked as a fresh wave of panic floored his system.
Sloane? You’d better be at the hospital with the children, woman.

Her answering silence said it all.

Holy hell
. She was
here
. It had probably been her and Archie who’d ducked behind the waterfall. He gritted
his teeth.
You can actually hear everything I’m projecting now?

Yes.

Hot damn.
Progress.
He’d better make it out of here alive.
Are you injured?

No
.

But she’d hesitated for the briefest moment.
Don’t get yourself killed or I’ll kill you myself.

I love you, too, Zack
.

Ah, Goldie
… He closed his eyes.
Did you start the ride? Where are you?

Go to Ann, she’s fading
.

I saw two people. Archie with you?

Go, Zack! Time’s almost up
.

Yeah, they were all gonna be pulverized if they kept up this cat and mouse game with
Morgan. Now he had to worry about Sloane, too. As he neared the end of the tunnel
closest to Ann, he heard three things simultaneously.

The SWAT lieutenant resuming negotiations.

The
fifteen minutes left
alarm on his watch.

And John’s voice…
Don’t ever give up on something or someone you can’t go a full day without thinking
about
.

Zack carefully stood in the tunnel opening, panning the area below, hoping Morgan
would reveal her location. A flood of warmth entered his body seconds before his vision
grayed. His hands rose to grip the sides of the tunnel. He had the sensation of movement,
a forward motion. It made his stomach pitch, his head spin. He suddenly heard two
heartbeats.

Shhh. I’ve got her. Stay with me so you know where she is. Okay?
Sloane’s instructions sounded like they were coming through water. And she sounded
weak.

Don’t do this, Sloane. I can’t help Ann and worry about you, too
.

Let me do this. Please, Zack. I can’t bring Abigail, Joan, Tori, or my sister back,
but…maybe
…

He suddenly understood. She was beginning to believe in herself—her gift—again. That’s
why she could hear him the way he could hear her.
Okay, baby, but please—please—be careful.

She didn’t respond. When he blinked, he had the sensation of looking through a third
party’s eyes. Someone who was on one of the rides. Where it was especially dark. Another
heartbeat.

That made three.
What the hell?

Zack felt nausea rise up, and he pressed the heels of his hands to his head.

Stay with me, so you know where she is
.

He was obviously remote viewing through Sloane’s eyes, but who were they looking at?
Morgan
.

If a bomb wasn’t set to explode in ten minutes he’d have laughed at the absurdity
of the situation. Hearing others’ thoughts? Remote viewing?
Right
.

Sloane, stay away from her. In fact, get the hell out of the building!

He breathed deep to dispel the gray, then moved to the edge of the track to line up
with one of the spokes on the big wheel. He’d made the right decision to climb. It
had bought him some time.

If he could grip one of those spokes and slide down, he’d be on the ground in seconds.
Surely the Ferris wheel would be easy to operate once he got to the control box. The
wild card was SWAT. How much did they know about what was happening and who was to
blame? Would they shoot him first thinking he was trying to hurt Ann? They had to
have a sniper poised somewhere. Morgan would realize it, too.

Which was why everyone was hanging back and this whole clusterfuck was moving too
slow and Ann was probably
dying
in that goddamn bucket.

Time to roll.

He tensed the muscles of his thighs, swung his arms back…and jumped.

Zack!

He lost his breath, the bruised and battered portion of his chest compressing on impact
and the metal spoke slicing his palms as he tried to slow his fall. He used his hands,
elbows, knees, and feet to snag the outside of the beam to slow the pull of gravity.
He grunted when his foot finally jammed in a wedge of the spoke’s center. From his
position on the outer hub of the wheel, he was better able to choose the rest of his
path downward. After his feet hit the concrete, he quickly found the Ferris wheel
motor and tripped the red switch.