When Death Draws Near (22 page)

THE HORSE PLUNGED AHEAD AT A DEAD GALLOP. I
desperately clung to his back with my legs. My one good hand held a chunk of mane. The twine reins were useless for control.

Night had fallen. I could see nothing and had no idea where we were going except downhill. Cold, damp air whipped past my face and body
. Lord, don't let the horse stumble or fall.
I leaned
forward for better balance. My broken hand, still inside my sweater, pounded with the drumbeat of the horse's hooves.

We raced for what seemed like hours. I tried to picture our route from the day before.
Has it just been one day since the revival?
Blake had driven a few miles from the corral until he reached the main highway. How far had the horse run? What would happen when we reached the main road?

The bay's easy breathing became labored. My strength ebbed, hand cramped, legs felt like cooked spaghetti. If the horse swerved, I wouldn't be able to hang on. The horse's sweat warmed my legs, but the salt seeped through my warm-up pants and burned the skin torn in my escape from the cave.

The headlong gallop became a canter. Car headlights danced through the trees ahead and the sound of engines grew and faded. The scent of wet pavement joined that of woodsmoke.

The canter became a walk.

I took a deep, shuddering breath.
You're almost there. Turn right at the highway. Elijah and Ruby's house is just another mile or so.

The what-ifs loomed in my brain. What if Junior or Clay were patrolling the highway? Or anyone on my list of suspects? What if the horse bolted again when he saw cars?

What if it was too late and Devin already had Aynslee? He'd had the time. I'd been gone for over a day.

Clenching my teeth at the last thought, I urged the bay to a slow trot. The bouncing gait jarred my hand and foot, but it took my mind off useless speculation.

I stopped the horse behind a line of trees just before the road and watched for a few moments. Only a couple of cars buzzed past.

Once again I urged the horse forward, crossed the road, and turned toward the oncoming traffic. The dark horse would be hard to see in the inky night. Two trucks drove by, slowed beside me, then sped on. A car also reduced speed when its headlights picked us out. As they drew abreast, they rolled down the windows. Spider-Man and a pirate stuck their heads out.

I blinked rapidly. Neither Spider-Man nor the pirate disappeared. I was hallucinating.

“Nice costume,” Spider-Man called out before the car picked up speed.

Of course. Halloween. People dressed up. I probably looked like the living dead.

We encountered only one other vehicle, an SUV, before I
saw the small turnoff to Ruby and Elijah's house. I kicked my tired mount to a slow canter to cross the road and go up the driveway.

No lights showed in the windows.

My heart sank.

Were they gone? A white Toyota Camry sat in front of the house.

Maybe everyone had gone to bed. I had no idea what time it was.

Sliding off the horse, I ended up on the ground, my legs too rubbery to hold me up. The bay sniffed my hair, then lightly bumped my head with his muzzle. I stroked his velvety nose. “Yeah, I know. Give me a minute.”

Finally I pushed off the ground, then held on to the horse's withers until I could stand. I limped to the nearby gate that led to the cow pasture and turned Rowdy loose, then hobbled to the house.

I knocked on the front door. “Hello? Ruby? Elijah? I'm sorry to be so late. It's me, Gwen.”

No lights turned on. The house was as still as a tomb. I knocked again, harder. Still no sign of life. I grabbed the doorknob and turned it. Unlocked. Slowly I pushed the door open, encountering slight resistance. The smell of something burning assailed me.

Directly in front of me I heard a distinctive sound. A slow
chchch
, then speeding to a continuous
cheeeeeeeeeeheeeeeeeeeeeeeee
.

I groped for a light switch on the wall beside me, found it, and flipped it on, illuminating the space like a stage.

The room was crawling with snakes.

Lying in the middle of the floor were two bodies. Ruby and
Elijah. I recognized them more from the clothing than appearance. The june bug–blue, bloated flesh distorted their faces and exposed skin. Ruby had clutched the rug under her in agony. Elijah had his arm thrown across her body. A large rattlesnake glided across Ruby's back. A smaller snake, with a flat, triangular head and dark banded body, curled under Elijah's leg.

My heart raced. My feet seemed rooted to the floor, my hand frozen on the light switch.

Where is Aynslee?

I searched every inch of the room. Snakes, big, oxide-brown rattlers and darker snakes with white mouths, slithered or coiled under furniture. The warning rattle came from the canebrake rattler in front of me. Another snake, raw sienna and burnt umber in color, raised its large, flat head and was flicking the air with a split tongue. Burnt-sienna copperheads wound around the walls.

The open door to my left proved to be the snake room. Empty cages and upturned Plexiglas containers filled the space. A pile of laundry lay tossed on the table that had earlier held Samuel's memorial display. Car keys rested next to a battered black purse and beige sweater on the coffee table. The stench of burning food grew even stronger.

Prying my hand from the switch I'd flipped, I stepped away from the front door, leaving it open. I didn't know much about snakes, but I did know they were cold-blooded and liked warmth. Maybe the cooler outside air coming through the open door would drive them into the warmer snake room.

I hobbled across the porch to the window on the side of the house and peered in. The room was too dark to see clearly. The next window was high and frosted. The bathroom. I stumbled
forward in the darkness, now trailing my hand against the house, until I found another window. No scrap of light helped me see in. Turning the corner, a glow came from a door at the back of the house. I paused, picturing the layout. This would be the kitchen. The snakes were in the living room with the doors shut to the other rooms. The kitchen should be safe. Aynslee had to be in there. I opened the door. Rancid smoke billowed past me. The glow came from a burning pot on the stove.

Rushing across the room as fast as my swollen ankle would allow, I turned off the burner. A wooden spoon sat in a spoon rest next to the stove. I used it to shove the pot off the burner. It looked like the remnants of dinner left on low. Probably keeping it warm for me.

I'd been gone for over twenty-four hours. This must have happened within hours of my leaving for the cabin.

Fire still licked upward from the contents of the pan. I spun around, looking for a fire extinguisher. No extinguisher, but the lid to the pot was by the sink. I grabbed the lid with a pot holder and shoved it into place.

More smoke filled the room, this time from the white-painted cabinet over the stove. Using the wooden spoon, I nudged the door open.

Several boxes of cereal puffed into flame.

I spun and turned on the kitchen faucet. A thin stream of water came out, not enough to make a dent in the inferno. The fire grew, lapping around the cabinet's wooden edges.

Turning my back on the flames, I forced my brain to analyze the scene.

The table held a single place setting. The rest of the room was tidy. Elijah and Ruby had expected me to return. But when
a car drove up, it wasn't me returning for Aynslee. It was Devin. He must have tied everyone up, then forced Aynslee into the car before returning to turn all the snakes loose.

I clutched the counter to keep from crumpling to the floor. I
had
to be calm.
Focus.

The heat grew, pushing me from the room. I limped outside. The stale odor of my own sweat replaced the smell of burning wood. Bile rose in my throat.

This was designed as another “accident.”
Oh dear, the snakes got loose, bit both Ruby and Elijah as they tried to catch them. In her hurry to catch the serpents, Ruby forgot to turn off the burner under dinner.

Sarah was missing along with Aynslee. He'd probably taken them to the cabin. I couldn't get back on Blake's bay and gallop after them. That was too far and I was too injured.

Elijah's car was parked next to the house.

But I'd have to go into the living room to retrieve the car keys. What would smoke and fire do to the snakes? Would they want to get away, or would it make them angry and aggressive? I limped to the front of the house, up the stairs, and to the open door where I could see into the living room.

The snakes were still there, restlessly slithering around each other. A few had crawled into the snake room, the room off the living room that Blake had prevented me from entering during Samuel's memorial service. A thick cloud of smoke poured in from around the kitchen door toward the open front door. The car keys were in the middle of the room on the coffee table.

A long black snake with faint, light yellow markings glided across the bare floor, stopping beneath the table. It looked different from the other snakes.

I shuddered. Something about that serpent made me want to run.

The pile of laundry on the table moved.

The hairs on my neck stood on end.

Sarah uncovered her face. Her eyes were unfocused and glazed.

The black snake whipped its head in her direction and raised its upper body. Its neck widened and flattened, forming a hood.

King cobra.

I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO WAIT. SARAH LOOKED
like she'd been bitten. Her parents must have shoved her to the table before they succumbed to their bites. She had to get to a hospital. And I had to get to her.

The smoke increased, burning my eyes, filling my lungs. I
coughed. The kitchen door glowed around the edges. I should have found a scarf or something to cover my mouth.

My legs and feet had no protection from snake venom, just the thin material of the warm-up pants and slippers. I didn't have time to find something to protect myself. I wouldn't even be able to sneak through with this sprained ankle. The snakes would feel the vibration of my thumping step and see me clearly.

“Okay, God, I said I'd talk, so here's the deal. I don't know what anointing feels like, but I could use some of that now.” I waited for something to change, a tingling, or warmth, or prickly feeling. I felt only my racing heart, the sweat under my arms, my dry mouth.

Sarah moaned.

Painstakingly I tugged my broken hand from the sweater sling. My fingers were bigger than before, the bruising more spectacular, the pain more intense.
How are you going to pick up that little girl?

Shoving the question away, I took a step into the room. The angry rattler shook his tail.
Cheeeeeeeeeeheeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

I moved sideways, away from its coiled body. Its head, with the vertical, catlike pupils, watched me. I put my hurt foot down.

A snake twisted under my slipper.

I screamed, jerked my foot upward, then clamped my hand over my mouth.
Quiet!

Snakes are deaf
. The rational thought didn't help. I coughed again.

Sarah shifted restlessly. She could easily roll off the table. And the cobra was just below.

Carefully I looked for a clear place to step. The snakes were everywhere, moving away from the fire and the freezing air from the open door, making the floor look like it was undulating.

Taking a shuddering breath, I took another step. A slithering body skated past my ankle. Just two more steps and I'd be at the coffee table where the car keys lay. Another three and I'd be next to Sarah. And the cobra.

Step-hop. A smaller rattler let me know I was too close. “Oh, Lord. Anytime now. Anoint away.” Step-hop. Just a little farther. Step-hop.

I snatched the keys and put them in my pocket. On impulse, I picked up the sweater.

Sarah rolled slightly. Her body now teetered just on the edge of the table. The cobra reared up, fanning its hood, and hissed.

I threw the sweater. It landed near the snake.

With lightning speed, the cobra struck the fabric.

I froze.

A rattler coiled and shook its tail to my left.

The cobra turned away from the sweater and slithered under a nearby chair.

Sarah rolled off the table and hit the floor with a thud. Several more snakes coiled and shook their tails.

I limped forward, coughing, and ignored the warning rattles. Kneeling by the prone girl, the air was clearer, but I couldn't stop coughing. Her breathing was rapid and shallow. Her left leg had swollen and turned reddish.

Lifting her gently with my right hand, I slipped my left under her shoulders. I couldn't grip with my hand. I'd just have to pray she wouldn't struggle. I got my other arm under her knees. Now all I had to do was stand up.

Although the child was only six and small, she was over forty pounds of deadweight. My strength was running on empty. I tried to stand. My legs refused to work.

Another snake joined in the rattling, adding to the soft hissing sound. The cobra slithered from under the chair.

I grabbed Sarah's arm and pulled her away from the cobra. Glancing over my shoulder, I blinked rapidly to clear my burning eyes. I located the open front door, then the path I would need to take. Taking a limping step backward, I dragged the child.

“Endure, endure,” I softly whispered.

Sarah moaned and her face looked worse. I didn't have time to worry about avoiding the snakes, I had to get her to a hospital. I stopped looking where I put my feet. I staggered backward as quickly as I could.

Something caught on the back of my slipper. I fell, landing on my already injured backside on the front porch. I'd tripped over the doorjamb. Swiftly I tugged Sarah outside the living room, then crawled back to the door and slammed it shut. Returning to Sarah, I pulled her the remaining distance to the edge of the porch. I didn't want to pull her down the steps. Maybe I could lift her by kneeling on a step and—

A truck roared around the corner, spotlighting me with its headlights. It skidded to a stop, showering me with dust. The door slammed and Blake charged into the light.

I wanted to dive into his arms.

Grabbing Sarah with one arm and me with the other, he hauled us away from the burning house and to his truck. He let go of me and placed Sarah on the ground. “Elijah and Ruby?”

I shook my head.

Blake sprinted to the house. Just as he reached the porch, the fire blew out the front windows.

He threw up his arms and retreated to the truck. “Get in. I need to drive you both to the hospital.”

“No. Take Sarah. She's been bitten.”

“Don't argue with me. Get in!”

At that moment I wanted so badly to have someone take care of me. “No.” I shook my head. “I need to find my daughter.” I held up the car keys.

“We can take Sarah to the hospital and find her together.”

“There's no time.”

“I can't leave you like this.”

His voice nearly melted my resolve. “You need to go. Save Sarah. I'll get Aynslee and meet you at the hospital.”

He spun, jumped in the truck, then careened off. The
taillights blurred and hot tears slid down my face. At least Sarah had a chance.

I bit my lip and lowered my chin to my chest.
No time for this
. I moved to Elijah's car, got in, and started the engine. There was only one place my daughter could be. I just hoped I wasn't too late.

Even though I drove as fast as I could, it still took forever to get to the cabin. I drove past the driveway and parked the car around a corner and out of sight. I didn't want to be greeted by a rapist who had time to find a rifle. As I limped between the trees as quietly as possible, the cabin soon came into sight. No vehicles were parked in front, but the lights were on inside.

I paused and listened for any sound. Tonight even the crickets were silent. I'd gone up and down the porch steps enough times that I knew which ones squeaked. Light spilled from the partially curtained windows, creating golden rectangles on either side of the front door.

On the far side of the porch, away from the light, someone sat in one of the chairs.

My hand flew to my mouth to stifle the scream. I gripped the railing to keep from falling.

He didn't move.

I strained my eyes, trying to see who was sitting and waiting. Gradually the shape formed.

My clothes from the revival were still slung over the chair.

Taking a deep breath, I sidled to the window nearest the bed. The room was empty. All of my things—clothes, books, purse—everything was gone. The bed had been moved from the wall and now squatted in the middle of the open space, with the sofa pushed into the kitchen area. The bathroom door stood
open. The camera inside the smoke alarm glowed red. Someone was watching—or recording.

Was Aynslee in the cellar snake room?

I grasped the window ledge.
Calm, calm
. I took several deep breaths.

I tried the door. Unlocked. Easing it open, I slipped through and listened.

If she were in the cellar, she might be unconscious, or hurt, or . . .

I didn't know how wide the camera lens would be, but I had to take a chance. Pressing up against the wall, I made my way until I reached the drawer that held the kitchen knives. I found one and slid around the room until I was standing near the trapdoor. With only one good hand, getting to the floor was a slow and painful task. I couldn't hold the knife and crawl with one hand, so I put it in my mouth and crawled slowly forward. Wedging the knife into the edge of the trapdoor, I pried it up until I could get my arm under the lip, then flipped it open. Even without much light, I could tell no one was down there, and the snake room hadn't been disturbed.

So where was my daughter?

I'd assumed Devin had her and had taken her here. But what if . . . what if Aynslee had gotten worried when I didn't return? What if, instead of getting Ruby to drive her to the cabin, she called Blanche and Arless looking for me? Arless was on my suspect list. He could have simply told her I was detained, picked her up, and taken her to his house. She'd have gone willingly. Tonight was the big Halloween party. Arless wouldn't have time to do anything to her. She was probably at the party right now, in costume, having the time of her life.

In fact, with the exception of Blake, all my suspects were probably at that party. Blake was at the hospital with Sarah. Probably.

I could just drive right up and retrieve her. No one had any idea where I was for the past day. Only Devin would be in shock that I was alive. He probably figured I was dead by now or at least suffering horribly.

There was only one problem with my plan. I didn't know who Devin was. Everyone at the party would be in costume and wearing masks. And Devin wore at least two masks.

Not knowing his identity meant that anyone I asked for help could be Devin. And my attempted murderer.

Trust no one.

I'd have to flush him out, lure the killer away from the party, and put him out of commission.

Studying the cabin space, I groped for ideas. If I had a gun, I'd be tempted to shoot him. Except I'd never shot anyone.

A small ax still rested by the stove.

A plan formed in my battered brain. It might work.
Lord, it had better work
.

It took me a few moments to climb to my feet. Still pressing against the wall, I limped to the corner of the room, snatched up the ax, and placed it near the front door.

Moving to the bed, I pulled Grady's note, ring, and watch from my pocket and placed them on the bedspread underneath the smoke-alarm camera. I flattened the note, looked again at the crosses on the ring, and reread the inscription on the watch. I held up each item long enough for anyone viewing through the recorder to see what I held.

I looked around the room, then into the open trapdoor in the
floor. Picking up the items, I stashed them back in my pocket, then limped to the opening.

Gossamer spiderwebs crisscrossed below, and the bottom was shrouded in darkness.

I thought of my daughter.

Taking a deep breath, I got on my hands and knees and started down the rope ladder to the snake room cellar.