Desolation Point (26 page)

“Just a twinge,” she said through gritted teeth. “Don’t worry.”

Alex nodded, deciding not to push the issue, since they had been set a task that needed completing in what little daylight remained.

It took them several attempts to spread and anchor the tarp, arranging it over the gap between two rocks so that it formed a roof but also hung with enough left over for them to sit on. Lying down would leave them partly exposed to the elements, but it was the best they could muster, given what little they had to work with. Sarah didn’t appear to care. Wrapped in a blanket, she sat in the darkest corner of the tiny shelter, rested her head back, and closed her eyes. Alex inched down beside her, and for a while there was nothing but the rush of the river and the splatter of sleet falling onto the canvas above their heads. A hint of orange light from outside the tarp gradually increased in intensity and Alex felt a feeble warmth begin to ease the numbness in her hands and face.

With her eyes still closed, Sarah stretched her hands toward the opening of the shelter as if that alone would be enough to make her comfortable. She shuffled down until her head rested on Alex’s thigh. Her legs were sticking out into the sleet, but it didn’t seem to trouble her, and within minutes, the cadence of her breathing told Alex she was asleep. Sitting in the darkness, Alex tried to ignore the low conversation of the two men beyond the shelter, men whom she and Sarah would somehow have to outwit and overcome if they were to have any chance of surviving. Beneath her palm, Sarah’s forehead felt unusually warm. She shook her head in dismay. Not only were they running out of time, they had long since run out of luck.

*

Sarah jolted awake when the beam of a flashlight hit her face. She blinked rapidly, shielding her eyes from the worst of the glare. The glow from the fire had barely changed, suggesting that only minutes had elapsed since she dozed off. Alex’s hand was on her shoulder, the grip harder than Alex probably intended as she tensed in anticipation. Something heavy thudded onto the canvas. Half-blind and still stupefied from sleep, Sarah couldn’t immediately distinguish the object, but the hitch in Alex’s breath was enough of a warning.

“You.” It was Tanner’s voice. He flicked the light toward Alex. “Tie her.”

Without the light obscuring her vision, Sarah saw that he had thrown down two lengths of rope. She had expected this, but even so, the prospect of being bound again made sweat break out on her hairline. Alex reached for the rope, misery etched on her face.

“Hands behind, then her feet,” he said. “No fucking around, unless you want me to do it.”

Not wanting Alex to have to tell her, Sarah turned her back and brought her wrists together. That mild pressure was enough to make her feel faint, but she managed to stay compliant as Alex secured the rope over the dressings.

“Tie it tighter. If you make me do it, she’ll lose her fingers,” Tanner warned her, and Sarah heard Alex smother a curse. A moment later, the bindings dug into her flayed skin, the severity of the pain knocking her off-balance so that Alex’s hand on the back of her jacket was the only thing that stopped her from pitching headfirst into the rock.

“Do her legs,” Tanner said.

“Give her a fucking minute, you asshole.” Alex somehow managed to keep her voice from rising, but the sound of flesh striking flesh told Sarah that he had slapped her.

“Sarah, you okay?” Alex murmured.

Sarah nodded quickly. “Are you?”

“I’m fine. He hits like a girl.” Alex projected the insult over her shoulder, having apparently abandoned their earlier plan of keeping a low profile.

Sarah turned around and winced at the blood dripping from a cut just below Alex’s eye. “You’re going to have a right shiner,” she said, trying to distract herself from the sensation of the rope cutting into her wrists.

“Huh?” Partway through binding Sarah’s legs, Alex paused.

“Black eye,” Sarah clarified.

“Oh.” Alex touched her fingers to her cheek and frowned at the blood. “Damn. His ring caught me.”

Impatient at the delay, Tanner shoved her aside and finished the knot at Sarah’s ankles. When he was satisfied she was secure, he grabbed hold of Alex’s right arm and wrenched it awkwardly behind her back, using it to push her to the ground. She heard him fumble with his belt and tried not to hyperventilate when seconds later she felt the cold bracelet of a handcuff cinch around her wrist. She surrendered her free hand without protest, but that didn’t make him go any easier on her. The metal drew blood as soon as she tried to test the limits of the connecting chain. He lashed her ankles together with his belt and left her lying facedown, her entire body trembling with remembered and fresh terror. Dizzy from breathing too rapidly, she turned her cheek onto the cold canvas and closed her eyes.

“He’s gone, Alex.” The canvas rustled as Sarah edged across to her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” It took almost all her remaining strength to push herself onto her knees. The rock felt reassuringly solid when she leaned against it, and she managed to straighten her legs and sit reasonably comfortably. Unable to control her movements effectively, Sarah swayed into Alex as she attempted to adopt the same position. A series of bangs sounded from the clearing, and they startled before Alex shook her head in recognition.

“He’s pitching the tent.” She kept her lips a hair’s breadth from Sarah’s ear, keen to take advantage of the noise Tanner was making. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“This isn’t your fault, Alex.” The volume of Sarah’s reply was just as guarded.

“No, I mean about hiding the keys. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I meant to and then it just got lost in everything else.”

Footsteps came close to the shelter and they both froze, instantly falling silent. When the footsteps had faded, Alex could still feel her pulse hammering in her chest.

Sarah took a deep, steadying breath. “We’re in quite a lot of shit, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, we are.”

“Do you think Merrick was working for these guys?” She pushed herself even closer to Alex, her words hissing directly into Alex’s ear. “That these are the ones who broke him out of jail?”

“I guess so,” Alex said. The day’s forced march had given them no chance to discuss what was going on, but she had drawn the same conclusions as Sarah.

“So this is what white supremacist pillocks look like,” Sarah muttered with unfettered disgust, apparently not too concerned about the men overhearing that one.

Alex wasn’t sure what a pillock was, but it sounded like a good enough insult, and she nodded in agreement. It seemed like a lifetime since she had told Sarah about Merrick’s links to the groups; given Sarah’s condition at the time, Alex was amazed she had managed to retain the information.

“How long till Aaron gets to the hut and figures out that you lied?” Sarah whispered as the banging started up again.

Alex jerked her head around, but then wondered exactly why she was surprised that Sarah had been able to read her so well. “I bet your life on that lie,” she said, the words almost choking her.

“You
saved
both of our lives with that lie,” Sarah told her without a hint of recrimination. “There was nothing else you could do.”

“I guess not.” Reassured, Alex leaned against the rough granite and tried to think like a cop instead of a frightened, half-starved, exhausted hostage. “We probably have another thirty hours or so before he reaches the hut,” she said at length. “And that’s being optimistic. He’s in much better shape than we are.”

“All he’ll need to do then is radio through to Deakin.” Despite being barely audible, Sarah’s voice was tight with fear.

“I know. I don’t think we should wait till the last minute. If we’re gonna do something, we need to do it soon.”

There was a shuffling noise as Sarah turned onto her left side. Alex lifted the blanket with her teeth and tried with only partial success to rearrange it over her.

“Any bright ideas?” Sarah said, already sounding half-asleep.

“Rest. The state we’re in right now, we can’t do anything.” Alex kissed Sarah’s forehead, tears filling her eyes when she thought of the last time she had done that and how different the circumstances had been. “Might be easier if we lull them into believing we’re going to behave ourselves.”

“And then we misbehave?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah.” Alex chuckled at the drowsy enthusiasm Sarah had managed to muster. “Then we—” She cut her reply off as footsteps approached. They sounded quicker and more purposeful than the last time, and without even thinking, she pushed herself slightly in front of Sarah just as Tanner’s large form blocked out the light from the fire. He bent low and unsnapped the belt at Alex’s ankles before dragging her up by the collar of her jacket.

“Move,” he said, not giving her the opportunity to protest.

Smoke and warm air caught in her throat as he propelled her beyond the shelter. The momentum made her lose her balance; unable to right herself in time, she skidded onto her knees.

“Alex!” Sarah’s attempts to follow them were abruptly cut off when Tanner kicked her squarely in her chest.

“Bastard,” Alex spat, “you fucking bastard.” Rage had left her beyond caring about her own safety, and all she felt was gratitude when Tanner turned his back on Sarah and pulled her up again. He spun her around to face the tent. Deakin was sitting on the far side of a blazing fire, eating from a tin plate, and the flames illuminated the satisfied nod he gave Tanner. Thick, cold fingers brushed Alex’s as Tanner gripped the chain at her wrists. He raised his arm deliberately, slowly lifting both of hers and forcing her to her knees in an effort to prevent her shoulders from dislocating.

“You kneel,” he said, his voice shaking with barely suppressed violence. When he tugged viciously on the chain, she moaned and then hated herself for giving him the satisfaction. “You kneel in front of him, you fucking dyke.”

“Fuck you,” she whispered, with all the vehemence she could muster. His fist clouted the back of her head, jolting her arms upward, and she retched without warning, dry heaving against her empty stomach.

“Thank you, Tanner.” Deakin’s intervention had an instant effect. The pressure on Alex’s arms ceased, and she heard Tanner’s boots tread heavily in the mud as he stepped back. “Watch the other one,” Deakin told him curtly.

She scrambled around, trying to see where Tanner was going, and took a shaky breath when she saw him stop just in front of the shelter.

“He won’t touch her,” Deakin said, and Alex turned back to face him. He chewed a mouthful of food deliberately. “Not like that. He has a wife and a child. He is given to God and would not debase himself with one given to deviance.”

She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She had no response to Deakin’s statement, no response that wouldn’t earn her a bullet between the eyes, at least; and if their vile ideology kept Sarah safe then she wasn’t about to start arguing the finer points.

He continued to eat, ignoring her as he scraped his plate clean. He set it aside with his knife and fork arranged neatly on top, and reached for a steaming mug. For several minutes, he did nothing but take careful sips. His gamesmanship gave Alex her first opportunity to look at him properly—not that there was much to note. In appearance, he was the archetype of everyone’s favorite uncle, the one who would buy you candy and not say a word if you sneaked a piece before dinner. His age was difficult to determine, but she estimated that he was somewhere in his mid-fifties. He was lean and athletic in build, with muscles bulging beneath the sweater he wore. The outdoor life seemed to agree with him, but the hands wrapped around his mug were clean and well-manicured, as if somehow symbolic of a man who had any number of devotees willing to do his dirty work. She knew from her time on the force that the police rarely managed to tie men like Deakin to their crimes. They would invariably slither free without a stain on their character, leaving some unfortunate lackey to do the time on their behalf. That Deakin was out here, taking such a massive risk by directly involving himself, made her even more afraid of whatever it was that he was searching for.

He turned to refill his mug and she shuddered before she could stop herself. The firelight had picked out a small black swastika tattooed on his scalp. It was an insignia he could easily have covered by letting his hair grow, but out here he seemed entirely comfortable with it being on display. Although by no means conclusive, it gave further credence to the theory that he was linked to Merrick; not that being right about that made her feel any better.

“Did you kill my niece, Alex?”

She jumped at his voice, and when she met his eyes, she suspected he had been studying her for some time.

“No,” she said. She didn’t know who his niece was, but the only person she had ever killed was Merrick.

Deakin leaned forward, watching her intently. “Is Nathan Merrick dead?”

“Yes.”

Her answer seemed to provide him with some semblance of satisfaction, and she belatedly realized that his niece was most likely the woman Sarah had seen with Merrick.

“He took Sarah,” she said by way of explanation. “But before that, we’d heard a gunshot…” She left the implication hanging. There was nothing she could do to make him believe her version of events, but she didn’t think she had anything to lose by giving him the information.

He stared at her for a long moment before raising his mug in her direction. “Then I guess you did me a favor,” he said in a tone that suggested she shouldn’t expect one in return.

“How did you find us?” she asked, careful not to sound as if she was demanding an answer. It was something she had been unable to work out. Although it was true that they had arranged to rendezvous at the caves with him, Deakin had obviously been right on their tail before then.

He grinned at her, baring his teeth, and patted the radio on his belt.

“Nathan Merrick would have sold his own sister if there was a profit in it,” he said. “That back-stabbing son of a bitch stored something in the park for us but neglected to tell us exactly where he’d hidden the keys to the store.” The grin had disappeared and a vein throbbed at Deakin’s temple. His face was red with anger. “We went to a lot of trouble to arrange for him to come out here and complete his side of our contract. My niece Bethany was assigned to him.” He didn’t seem concerned by the double-standards implicit in whoring out his niece to further his own business deals. “The radio we issued to her had a tracker implanted in it. We intended to monitor Merrick’s location.” He arched an eyebrow at Alex. “Imagine my surprise when I heard your voice.”