Face Off (27 page)

All along there had seemed to exist an invisible bond between the two psychics. Suzanne couldn't explain it, but she knew that the powers of both Jessie and herself were greatly enhanced when they worked together. Each fed on the other's strengths.
Jessie, picture it. A rope for me to follow. Show me the way, Jessie. SHOW ME THE WAY!

*   *   *

Jessie tried to close her eyes against the horror she was seeing, but it was no use. Even with her eyes closed, she could see a sea of blood washing down the old road. Instinctively, she knew they were at the place where Clark tortured, killed, and butchered his victims. It was their blood spilling down the road in her visions. And now their souls seemed to cry out to her from the countryside.

Through the jumble of images bombarding her brain, Jessie finally heard Suzanne calling to her. She understood what was needed of her and turned in the seat, extending her arm back toward the rear of the van. She pictured a rope leaving her hand, going back down the road they had just traveled, reaching her friend.

“Now what are you doing?” Clark asked.

“Just stretching,” Jessie answered. “You hurt my arm when you jerked around on it.”

*   *   *

The dispatcher at the police station motioned for Harry. “You have a radio message from Officer Mullen at the courthouse. He says to tell you Miss Moore found the address.”

“Thank God!” Harry said as he picked up the mike.

Chapter Twenty-six

Amy knew her hold on sanity was slipping rapidly. At any moment she was going to begin screaming and continue doing so until the murky water claimed her.

Water had now reached almost to her chin and was only inches from covering the end of the air pipe, to which she was clinging. The only sound she could hear in the darkness was the distant rumble of thunder, and the gurgling sound of water as it seeped ever higher.

She had finally dropped the lamp, not by design, but by accident. She had no more strength left in her arms. It occurred to her that had she kept the lamp lit, her worries would be over by now.

She thought of her family in Pueblo and said a prayer for them. She fervently prayed they would never have to know what she had gone through before her death. She prayed that her death would not leave Jessie shattered.

Amy had no way of knowing that less than a hundred yards away, her sister was being jerked from a van by Randal Clark.

*   *   *

“Here, Jim! Take this smaller road!” Suzanne pointed to another roadway leading off to the left. She was following a shimmering rope of light, the lifeline between Jessie and herself. It had worked!

The car radio sputtered, startling them. Jim picked up the mike. “Yeah, Harry. What did you find?”

“We've got it, Jim. The address. The farm is located west of the Gladstone area, west of Highway One-sixty-nine. It's going to be a devil to find. The road is a little, narrow, gravel road called Wedermeyer Lane. I'm looking at a map, and it looks like your best shot is to take a little jog on Vivion Road, over through a residential area—”

“We're way ahead of you, buddy,” Jim said. “I just caught sight of a sign, and believe it or not, we just turned onto Wedermeyer Lane. How far to the house?”

Harry studied his map. “It's five miles from where you turn onto the road.”

“Okay, we should be there in a few minutes, providing I can navigate this road—or what's left of it. How did you come up with the address? Who was the property listed under?”

“Roy Cole was the name he used to purchase the property. I guess he figured after all this time, no one would be around to question him using his real name. Then Miss Moore checked out property held by that militant group twenty years ago, and sure enough, that property had been one of their holdings. It looks like Jessie was right on the money with that one.” Both occupants of the car could hear Harry's voice break as he said the child's name.

“We'll get her, Harry,” Jim spoke into the mike. “We know she is still all right.” He glanced over at Suzanne. “There is someone here who is certain of that.”

*   *   *

Jessie stared at the massive, run-down farmhouse. It seemed to tower in the sky as lightning illuminated the area, making it visible in short bursts of light. A shiver of fear ran across Jessie's neck and traveled down her arms. Randal Clark kept a firm hold on her wrist as he forced her to run for the shelter of the porch.

When they got closer to the house, Jessie could see strong bars covering the windows, and a series of locks on the outside of the front door. Clark obviously was taking no chance with intruders. He never loosened his grip on her as he methodically worked his way through the locks, unlocking them one by one.

Jessie tried to spring away as Clark opened the door and pushed her roughly inside, but he grabbed her and threw her spinning across the room, then he flipped on the overhead light.

“What happened to that cocky little brat I picked up a while ago?” Clark smirked. “Not so brave now, are you, little one?” He made a slashing movement with the cleaver. “Are you ready to die? If I wasn't so sick of listening to you, I'd really make you suffer!”

Jessie raised herself to one knee as she looked wildly around the bleak room for another exit. There were two doors leading out of this room, but she did not have easy access to either of them. Besides, judging from the way the windows had been barred, even if she escaped into the rest of the house, she would not be able to get out. No. Her best bet lay with the door they had just entered.

“So where is Amy?” Jessie demanded, still from her crouching position. “You said you would let me see her. Are you a liar as well as a killer?”

Clark's eyes narrowed, menacingly. “I have already killed your precious sister. I cut her a thousand times before she died. She was begging for death by the time I finished with her!”

Jessie stood up, eyeing Clark with contempt. “Huh! Yeah, I guess you
are
a liar, too. Amy is alive. You didn't kill her. You put her in some sort of box, and she is still alive!”

Clark inched closer to the child. “How did you know I did that, little one? Where are you getting all of your information? I think maybe it is time you died.” He swung the cleaver high in the air. At the same time, he heard the faint sound of a siren and listened in horror as it got louder and louder.

*   *   *

As they drove into the yard both Jim and Suzanne could see Clark standing on the porch using Jessie as a shield. He was holding a large knife to the side of her throat.

Jim reached under his jacket for his gun. “Stay in the car, Suzanne.”

“Not on your life,” she answered him as she opened her car door and jumped out.

“You don't have a chance, Clark!” Jim yelled. “There are more police on the way. You will gain nothing by hurting the child. Let her go.”

Clark silently cussed himself for leaving his gun in the van. If he could get to it, then it would be a fair fight. Right now, his only insurance was the girl. “Throw your gun down and walk on up the road or I will slit her throat! Now!” he screamed.

Suzanne came around the car and stood by Jim. “How good a shot are you?” She spoke in a soft voice.

“Not great, anymore,” he answered truthfully. “I can hit Clark, though, if that's what you're asking.”

“Okay, listen. When I raise my arm, that will be the signal for Jessie to pretend to faint. She will slump down, and you can get a shot at Clark. Do you think that might work?”

“Well, yeah, but how are you—oh! Sure. Give it a try.”

“So what's it going to be?” Clark yelled. “Do I kill her or not?”

Jessie! Hear me, Jessie!
Suzanne concentrated.
When I raise my arm, pretend to faint. Slump down as far as you can go. Move your hand a little if you understand.

Suzanne watched as Jessie moved her hand back and forth. “She understood, Jim! Get ready.”

It all happened so fast, Suzanne was not even certain that her plan had worked. One second she was raising her arm in signal, and the next instant Jim was firing. Clark dropped the cleaver and slumped to the floor.

Jim and Suzanne ran up on the porch, and Jessie leaped into the older psychic's arms.

Jim held his gun on Clark, who was not moving. “I'm afraid I've only winged him,” he said as he carefully handcuffed him to the sturdy porch railing. “I told you I wasn't as good a shot as I used to be.”

“We have to find Amy!” Jessie said. “She's buried somewhere around here in a cement box. I saw it when Clark started talking about her.”

“Of course!” Jim said, remembering. “That group that was here twenty years ago built a number of cement storage units to hide the weapons they were stockpiling. As I recall, they had about fifteen buried here and there across these hills. It shot the property value all to hell.”

Suzanne knelt down by Clark. She touched him on the arm, realizing that he was conscious and aware of what they were discussing. “Which way do we go? Where is Amy Matthews?”

“You go to hell,” Clark managed to speak. “You'll never find her.”

Even as he spoke the words, Suzanne saw clearly that Amy was north, down the hill. Jessie, reading Suzanne's mind, saw it, also, and took off running.

Suzanne looked at Jim. “If my vision was right, we will probably need a shovel.”

“There will be one in the trunk. Standard equipment.” He ran over to the police car and opened the trunk, removing a small shovel and a flashlight.

The rain had lessened somewhat as Jim and Suzanne followed after Jessie down the hill, but the lightning and thunder were still fierce. Up ahead they could hear Jessie screaming for her sister.

Jim noticed the gully which had formed from water rushing down the hillside. He flashed his light on ahead, but saw that the gully had stopped. Something was blocking its way, catching all of the water that should have been cascading down the hillside. A sick feeling began to form in his stomach.

“Amy! Amy! Where are you?” Jessie screamed. “I know you're here somewhere. Where are you?”

*   *   *

Amy decided she must be dreaming. Then she heard it again. It sounded like Jessie! With one hand she felt under the pipe to see if the water had covered it, yet. No. It was still open. She put her mouth up as close to the opening as she could get. “Jessie! Jessie! I'm here!” Then she laid her head against the pipe. No. Of course it couldn't be Jessie. She was just hallucinating. Going mad in the dark.

“Amy! Amy!” This time Amy heard her sister's voice plainly.

“Down here! I'm down here!” She tried to scream, but couldn't in her weakened condition. “Jessie! Jessie! Look for a pipe!”

This time Jessie heard her sister's weak cry. She looked down and saw the pipe sticking out of the ground. She dropped to her knees and yelled, “Amy! I'm here! Are you down there?” She held her ear to the pipe.

“Yes, Jessie! The water is almost over my head! Get me out!”

Jim came running up and couldn't believe his eyes as he saw Jessie clawing wildly at the ground. “Are you sure she's down there?” he said as he pulled her to her feet.

“Yes! Yes! But we have to get her out. The water is almost over her head!”

Jim started shoveling the heavy mud. Suzanne and Jessie both dropped to their knees and began scooping it away with their hands.

Below them, Amy could hear the noise. It was the only thing that convinced her she had not dreamed the whole thing.

Finally, the last of the planking was uncovered. Jim leaned down and called into the pipe. “Amy. This is Detective Stahl. Listen to me. When I lift this top off, go to the south side—the side opposite the pipe. The top is going to be heavy and if we have to drop it, we'll know where you are. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Okay. But I'm so weak. Without the pipe to hang on to, I'm not sure I can even stand.”

Jessie dropped to her knees. “You can do it, Amy! You have to! We can't raise the lid if you are holding the pipe.”

“Okay. I'm letting go now.” Amy forced her body through the water away from the pipe.

“All right,” Jim instructed, “on the count of three we lift. If it starts to fall, push it toward the north—away from you. One, two,
three!
”

For the first time in two weeks, Amy felt fresh air on her face. Then strong arms were around her, pulling her up, out of the water. The first person she saw was her sister. “Jessie!” She tried to walk, but her knees gave way. She felt Jessie's arm go around her waist, bracing her. “How did you ever find me?”

In the excitement, the girls almost missed seeing Jim Stahl slump noiselessly to the muddy ground. “What is it, Jim?” Suzanne rushed over, kneeling beside him.

“Darlin', I think I'm having a heart attack. I guess your premonition was right, after all.”

*   *   *

Back at the farmhouse, even though his shoulder was bursting with pain, Randal Clark finally managed to set himself free from the handcuffs. Stupid, damned police. They should have known what an expert he was with locks. How the hell did they think he got in and out of places so easily? He picked up his knife, got his gun from the van, and started running down the back side of the hill. He had seen the flashing lights of police cars coming up the front way and had no intention of being here when they arrived!

Ahead, he noticed the electrical fence. That was all right. He had hopped over it many times. All he had to do was hold on to the wooden post and not touch the wires. Hell, even if he did slip up and touch them, it wouldn't be much of a shock.

When he got to the fence, in order to free-up his hands, he shoved his gun under his shirt and stuck the dull edge of the meat cleaver into his mouth, holding it tight with his teeth. He reached up to grab hold of the fence post, when all at once the sky exploded with lightning. Electrical charges danced through the air, looking for a point of contact. They found it in Randal Clark's all-steel meat cleaver with which he had butchered dozens of innocent young girls. The jolt knocked him twenty feet into the air. He was dead before he hit the ground.