The Furies (38 page)

John craned his neck to get a better look at the newspaper photo. There were bodies on the highway, twisted and blackened. Ariel clenched her hands and let out a hiss. “Were there any survivors?” she asked.

“Nay, we lost everyone in the truck.” Elizabeth retrieved the photo and quickly flipped it over on her desk, hiding the gruesome image. “Nineteen women and five men. Including our brewer, Clarissa, and three of her daughters.”

“Mother, we need to end this.” Ariel pressed her fists against the desktop. “Let me assemble a squadron. Between the Rangers and the remaining guardsmen, we have almost fifty soldiers. We'll find Sullivan's men and finish them off.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “You won't defeat them. We lost our best fighters in the defense of Haven, but Sullivan kept his strongest men out of the battle, and he may have as many as a hundred of them. So put the idea out of your mind, child. Our priority now is to establish a permanent refuge and get our family there safely.”

“How can we do that if Sullivan is attacking us? He'll track our people down and massacre them before we can—”

“That's why time is of the essence. A Gulfstream is due to arrive here within the hour. You're going to take the jet to South America.”

Ariel's eyes widened. “So my guess was correct? Our new refuge is in the Amazon basin?”

Elizabeth reached for one of the maps on her desk. “Aye, it's in southern Colombia, the Caquetá region. A very remote, very unpopulated part of the rain forest.” She tapped her finger on an
X
marked in red pencil on the map. “There's a high ridge in the jungle just south of the Yarí River. A Ranger who was doing botanical research in the area ninety years ago discovered a network of caves at the base of the ridge. He explored the cavern, then plugged and concealed its entrance so that no one else would find it. A year later I arranged the purchase of the site from the Colombian government, along with two thousand acres of surrounding rain forest.”

“And this is something else you kept secret? Like the train tunnel?”

“Margaret knows of it. I sent her sons, Hal and Richard, to the site nine months ago after Sullivan started his rebellion. They reported that the cavern was still hidden and still inhabitable. The network of caves is extensive, and one section leads to an underground river that could provide fresh water and hydropower. We'll have enough room and resources to build a new home there.”

Ariel bent over the desk and stared at the map. “I know this area, Mother. I never traveled down the Yarí, but I led the Caño Dorado expedition down the Apaporis River twenty years ago.” She pointed at a section of the map to the north of the red
X
. “You're aware of the fighting in that part of Colombia? You've heard of FARC, the Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias—”

“Aye, I'm aware of the guerillas. Frankly, the political instability of the area is why I chose it over our other options.” Elizabeth pointed at the map, too. “The long war between FARC and the Colombian government has created a no-man's-land in the southern part of the country. The Colombian police and army are afraid to enter the jungle, so we'll be able to establish our refuge without interference from suspicious authorities.”

“But the guerillas will be just as suspicious. They work closely with the drug traffickers who smuggle cocaine out of the rain forest. They're bound to notice the movement of our people to the refuge.”

“Trust me, child, I've taken all this into consideration. We're going to pose as a community of religious cultists who believe they're being persecuted in the United States. There's a long history of similar communities fleeing to Latin America. If the local bandits object to our presence, we have more than enough currency to buy their favor.”

“I don't like it. If we need to pay the criminals, we'll be at their mercy.”

“Nay, we won't be vulnerable for long. As soon as we complete the relocation, we'll make our new home impregnable. We'll build a fortified compound around the entrance to the cavern, defended by so many guardsmen that no ragtag band of guerillas will dare challenge us. It'll be easier for everyone to simply leave us alone.”

Elizabeth folded her arms across her chest, clearly ready to respond to any further objections. John marveled at how disciplined and organized she was. She'd worked on these relocation plans for nearly a century. It took a special kind of paranoia, he thought, to prepare so thoroughly for disaster.

Ariel, though, still seemed unconvinced. She gave her mother a dubious look. “And how do I fit into the strategy? What's my assignment?”

The Chief Elder picked up another document from her desk. It was a color satellite photograph showing a long yellow line against a solid green background. “This is the airstrip in Caquetá where you'll land. It's close to the Yarí River, but you'll have to go fifteen miles downstream to reach the site of the refuge. I've already radioed Kuikuro, one of my contacts in the area. He's a Huitoto chief, the leader of a tribe that lives in the rain forest. For the past three decades I've paid him a thousand pesos a year to keep watch over our landholdings down there. He and his tribesmen will meet you at the airstrip and guide you down the Yarí in their dugout canoes.”

“But what am I supposed to do when I get to the refuge?”

“The site is a mile south of a bend in the Yarí, but I don't want you to go there yet. Your assignment is to build a base camp on the southern bank of the river bend. You'll need to construct temporary shelters and stockpile food for the dozens of Furies who'll join you there over the next few weeks. Kuikuro will help you find tribesmen whom you can hire as laborers. I know you're familiar with the languages of the region. That makes you the best person for the task.”

Ariel thought it over for a moment. “I assume I'll have enough money for wages and bribes?”

“We'll load the Gulfstream with gold, dollars, and Colombian pesos. And we'll put three guardsmen on the jet for your protection.”

“I want one of them to be John.” Ariel pointed at him. “He's proved himself in combat.”

Elizabeth scowled again. The sudden movement of her facial muscles tilted her scar a few degrees off vertical. But after a second she nodded. “I know I can't change your mind, so I won't even try. Your aunt Margaret will also accompany you.”

“Margaret?” Now Ariel scowled. “Why her?”

“Once our people start arriving at the base camp, they may become overwhelmed by the amount of work that needs to be done. One of the Elders must be there to ensure they'll follow our orders.”

“What about you? When will you make the trip?”

“Probably not for several months. I have to stay in contact with everyone, and the communications grid in southern Colombia is spotty, at best.” Elizabeth started collecting the papers on her desk, gathering them into a pile. “I'll give you copies of all the maps and satellite photos. And before you leave, I want you to radio the Caño Dorado expedition and instruct them to join us at the base camp. For the duration of this emergency, they'll report directly to me.”

Ariel narrowed her eyes. “You have a need for botanical researchers as well?”

“Nay, I don't require their scientific expertise. But they have skiffs and supplies and communications equipment, all of which will be needed at the base camp. I assume you know their current location? Is the expedition anywhere near southern Colombia?”

Her daughter didn't answer. John knew why she was reticent: the members of the Caño Dorado expedition had formulated the catalyst for extracting the Fountain protein from fetal tissue, and until now Ariel had strictly guarded the results of their research. She was obviously nervous about revealing the location of the team, even to her mother. “If I tell you, who else will know?”

“Do you doubt the loyalty of my deputies?”

“Aye, I do. After what happened with Old Sam, I doubt everyone's loyalty.”

Elizabeth sighed. She leaned back in her chair and raised her hand to her forehead, and for a moment John saw how desperately tired she was. “You're correct, child. I trusted the man too much. He was so faithful for so many years. I never could've imagined…” She stared at the wall as she rubbed her forehead, kneading the skin just below her hairline. “I was the one who should've paid the price for it. Not Cordelia.”

Ariel's face was grim. “I don't wish to discuss this right now, Mother. I just want to make sure we don't repeat our mistakes. If another traitor discovers where the expedition is, Sullivan may reach them first and obtain the formula for the catalyst. And the consequences would be even worse than we'd feared.”

Elizabeth stopped massaging her forehead. Suddenly alert, she stared at her daughter. “What do you mean?”

“In the past twenty-four hours I've learned that Fountain triggers some disturbing side effects. Because of unexpected biochemical interactions, men injected with the protein seem to lose their ability to curb their violent impulses. The effects may even explain Sullivan's irrational behavior over the past year. If he acquires the catalyst and starts supplying his men with Fountain, they may experience the same effects. Then the Riflemen will truly become an army of monsters.”

Elizabeth nodded. Her face seemed to harden as she took in the new information. She sat up straight and narrowed her eyes, her expression mirroring her daughter's. “Then I'll take an oath. I swear by the names of my grandmothers that I won't disclose the location of Caño Dorado. Not to my deputies, not to any of the Rangers, not to a single soul.”

Ariel studied her for a few seconds, still reluctant. Then she took the stack of papers from her mother's desk, found another map, and pointed to a sinuous river running across the top. “We're very fortunate. The expedition is in northwestern Brazil, collecting medicinal plants along the Mocó River. That's about four hundred miles downstream from the Yarí, but given the fact that the Amazon basin is two thousand miles across, it could've been a lot worse.”

“How long will it take them to reach the base camp?”

“If they run the skiffs at full speed, maybe two days. Luckily, the border between Brazil and southern Colombia is easy to cross. There are hundreds of small waterways that detour the border posts.”

“They should get started right away.” Elizabeth rose to her feet. “I'll clear out the trailer so you can have some privacy while you radio the orders to the expedition. Is Mariela still in charge of the team's—”

She stopped herself and cocked her head, listening. A moment later John heard a distant roar. It was difficult to hear the noise at first, but it quickly grew louder. He looked up, and so did Ariel. There were no windows in the room, but they gazed at the walls anyway. They both knew what was approaching.

“That's the Gulfstream.” Elizabeth pointed at the ceiling. “You'll be in South America by nightfall.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

Sullivan stared at a deserted airstrip in northern Wisconsin, just a hundred feet from the rocky shore of Lake Superior. An old trailer sat beside the runway, but his men had already smashed their way inside and found it empty. Now they clustered near their motorcycles, which were parked in an asphalt lot next to the lakeshore. Sullivan had allowed his men a one-hour break, and most of them were sprawled on the gravel beach, snoring away in the sunshine. Dozens of gulls squawked angrily overhead.

This was the second Ranger airstrip they'd raided. The first, near the town of Freda on the Upper Peninsula, had also been deserted. Because Sullivan had been a Ranger for many years, he knew the locations of all their airfields, but there were too many of them. He couldn't visit them all in the hope of finding the Elders. He felt a surge of frustration, raw and overpowering. It was so strong it clouded his vision, blurring the gravel and the gulls and the supine men with the vast gray lake in front of them.

It was nothing, though, compared with the anger he'd felt last night as he stood in the pine woods south of Haven's fence. He knew he'd been tricked as soon as the ground rumbled under his feet. He'd underestimated his mother's survival instincts. The bitch had devised an escape from Haven before obliterating the cavern and burying half of his Riflemen. Sullivan ordered his remaining men to search for a tunnel, a hidden exit they'd somehow missed in their earlier reconnaissance of the area. Then, on a hunch, he raced to the Rudyard Trucking warehouse. It was ten miles west of Haven, much farther than he'd thought a tunnel could reach, but when he arrived he saw right away that a mass exodus had taken place. Although the warehouse was empty, its floor was spotted with debris. There were also signs of bloodshed. A couple of fresh red stains had soaked into the concrete.

Soon afterward, the Riflemen caught up to the last truck heading for the Canadian border. The attack eased Sullivan's anger for a few minutes as the truck burned beneath the highway overpass and his men extracted a few morsels of information from the dying guardsmen. But then he discovered that one of the corpses in the truck was Old Sam. Worse, he'd been shot in the head before the attack had even started. The bitches had eliminated Sullivan's last, best spy. Now he had no one to tell him what the Elders were doing or where they'd gone.

He clenched his teeth and stared hard at Lake Superior, trying to dissolve the blurry mist in his eyes. On the other side of the lake, beyond the horizon, was the Canadian province of Ontario. That's where most of the Furies were hiding, scattered and out of reach. But all was not lost. Although Sullivan couldn't locate the Elders at the moment, he had a good idea where they were headed. Thanks to his deceased spy, he knew a great deal about their relocation plans.

Nine months ago Old Sam had informed him of an unusual conversation he'd overheard in the council chambers. Elizabeth had assigned Hal and Richard to travel to the Caquetá region in southern Colombia. They were going to investigate a sealed cavern that some long-dead Ranger had discovered in the 1920s. Old Sam learned the geographic coordinates of the site and relayed them to Sullivan, who sent two of his own men to the area. After a few weeks they radioed a message confirming his suspicions: the cavern was Elizabeth's first choice for a new refuge if the Furies were forced to leave Haven. Sullivan then gave his men a new assignment. Using some of the gold the Riflemen had taken from Haven's vaults, they made a deal with the FARC guerillas who controlled Caquetá.