FORTY-THREE

I’m not drinking it.” Pierce set the glass of water on a table.

He stood in the center of the cabin facing Jordan. An old lady sat with a boy in one corner, the big deputy and Carney in another.

The thump-thump of the idling helicopters on the mountainside, hundreds of yards above the cabin, underscored the urgency of the situation.

“We can’t take you through the tunnels any other way,” Jordan said. “The flunitrazepam is safe and—”

“It’s a roofie,” Pierce interjected. “Trust me. I know how to use pharmaceuticals. I’m just not going to drink it.”

“You want escape, and this is the only option.” Jordan’s face was distorted by bruises and obvious pain. Pierce still couldn’t believe that the man was alive and telling him what to do. Should have him on the floor, in cuffs by now.

“I want you, Dr. Brown, to think back a couple of decades. Arson. Destruction of hundreds of millions of dollars of government property. There’s no statute of limitations for your crimes.”

“We don’t make it through the caves without him, Pierce,” Carney said. “None of us. This area is too hot with Bar Elohim’s men. The way Mason Lee is acting, I don’t think they are too inclined to leave you alive.”

“You’re thinking we owe him?” Pierce said. “You forget I have a duty to follow.”

“Without him, we’re dead. It’s pretty simple.”

“With him in custody, Bar Elohim gives us a pass Outside. All of us in this cabin. You have any idea how badly my agency wants him? What his knowledge is worth? To get Jordan, my government will do whatever it takes to negotiate our freedom.”

Carney took a step toward Pierce. “My apologies, but this is going to get ugly.”

“You’re going to fight me?”

“Unless you stand down and drink the stuff.”

“I’m not going to pull something cheap here, Carney. All of us escape, but we do it my way.”

“Strangely enough, I believe you really think you can do this. I just don’t like your way.”

Carney threw a punch, low and hard.

Pierce deflected it with his forearm. Then he came under Carney’s next punch, used Carney’s momentum against him, swung the man around and kicked his feet out from under him. Carney fell on his belly, his face rebounded against the floor.

Pierce knelt beside him. “I don’t have any choice, Carney. I found the man, and now I have to take him in.”

Pierce watched Carney closely for the slightest resistance. He didn’t want to hurt the Sheriff, but he wasn’t going to take chances. He was so focused that by the time he felt Billy’s arms wrapped around his chest, it was too late.

Billy lifted him like he was a pillow, and Pierce found himself dangling. The kid’s arms were as powerful as hydraulics, pinning Pierce’s own arms to his chest.

“Mr. Jordan.” Billy spoke without any hint of exertion. “Is all that true? About the stealing and destruction?”

Pierce kicked futilely, but it felt ridiculous and undignified.

“You should put him down,” Jordan said.

“Is it true?” Billy kept his crushing hold on Pierce.

“It’s true.”

“Why did you do it?” Billy asked.

“Bad people were doing bad things,” Jordan answered. “Someone had to stop it.”

“I believe you.” Billy backed away with Pierce. “You all go. Maybe Sheriff Carney can help Mrs. Shelton and Theo. I’ll just hold him like this for a while.”

Jordan stepped up to Billy. “Really, Billy, put him down. If he’s going to make sure all of us get Outside, I won’t fight it.”

Carney was back off the floor by then. “Hold him good, Billy.”

Carney took the glass of water that Pierce had set down. “If I hadn’t seen it and felt it, I would never have believed a man could move as fast as you. But it’s not doing you much good now. More to Billy than meets the eye.”

“Jordan is a criminal,” Pierce said. “You want to set him free?”

“You can drink this nice,” Carney said. “Or I’ll plug your nose and pour it down. Which way do you want it?”

Pierce tried shaking himself loose. He felt like he was squeezed between two mountains.

Carney plugged Pierce’s nose. When Pierce opened his mouth for air, Carney began to pour.

Brij handed Caitlyn a headlamp, like the type she and Papa would take when they went caving. They stood at the entrance to one of six tunnels radiating out from the central headquarters.

“This is for when the power goes off. Please put it on.”

Not if, Caitlyn noted, but when.

Caitlyn didn’t ask about this. She was trying to stay in the moment, but everything was happening so quickly. They’d reached the open area at the end of the entrance tunnel, where two dozen Clan members sat in front of computer screens and monitors. Brij hadn’t stopped to introduce her to any of them or explain the area but escorted her through it to a tunnel on the far side of the room.

“Jordan explained what to expect once you reach the waterfall, right?” Brij asked. “You’ll see the turbine there.”

“And a rope bridge across and a series of ladders down.” Caitlyn felt a stab of pain in her back but ignored it.

Brij pointed at the set of symbols on the tunnel wall.

“From this point on, here’s what to look for to get there.” He touched the           symbol. “There will only be three intersections. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then go, Caitlyn. Godspeed.”

“Soldiers,” Theo croaked. He’d been in and out of his delirium since leaving the cabin. “They’re behind us.”

The group formed a ragged procession, walking a narrow path with a steep wall of rocks on one side and a long drop on the other, skirting the side of the mountain, staying well out of sight of the choppers.

Theo leaned on Gloria as they walked, and Billy held Jordan up. Carney had a firm grip on the rope that they’d used to tie Pierce’s hands behind his back.

Carney half-turned, frowning. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Sheriff Carney,” Billy said, “if Theo says he hears something, believe him.”

Unlike Theo and Gloria, Billy did not drink the water with flunitrazepam. Carney and Jordan had decided it would be better to wait until just before an entrance into the cave system. They wanted Billy’s help with Pierce along the way, in case he shook off the drug and gave them trouble.

“We’ll pick up the pace,” Carney whispered. “How far we got?”

“Too far.” Jordan leaned against the rock face. “If they’re on this path, we won’t get there before they catch us.”

Carney gauged the wall behind Jordan. “I’ll stay back.”

“It’s suicide.” Jordan shook his head.

“Should be able to climb up some, work on that loose scrabble up there. How much time you need anyway?”

“You don’t have a weapon.”

“A bunch of falling rocks will distract them.” Carney shrugged. “If I get high enough where they can’t see me, I can turn this path into an obstacle and shell a few of them when they slow to scale it.”

“But that leaves you—”

“Look,” Carney said, “here’s my secret. All I really expected Outside was six months, maybe eight. Long enough to enjoy some freedom. I’m sick.”

Jordan bowed his head.

“Sick? What?” Billy asked.

“Cancer. Don’t feel sorry for me, Billy. You go ahead. I’m proud of what you’ve done to get us here.”

Billy blinked a few times. “You really were a part of the Clan all along.”

Carney nodded. “I was.”

“But all the things you told me on the town square, about being a shepherd and all that.”

“Official talk. I knew it was being recorded.”

Billy cocked his head, clearly processing, then he finally spoke. “All the prisoners who died while you’ve been in charge—they escaped, didn’t they? Like Mrs. Shelton. And you sent me to arrest her because you knew I’d mess up.”

“Don’t let anyone ever tell you that you’re stupid, Billy. You remember that and take care of these people. They need you.”

The end of the tunnel brightened for Mason. He’d been armed with the           symbol from the vidpod he’d taken from Jordan. Still, as agreed with Bar Elohim during their roadside meeting, it might not be enough to navigate the warren of tunnels.

So he’d been using his ultraviolet light to follow the footprints of the old man and the girl in the tunnel. He was certain he had not lost them. To guide the soldiers, he’d used the spray paint on the tunnel wall every few feet, as also instructed by Bar Elohim. If this was their chance to stomp out the Clan, they would take every precaution.

Near the end of the tunnel, he heard the buzz of conversation.

Mason held his shotgun loosely in the crook of his good arm. The Clan were pacifists, and they’d run before attacking him. But they couldn’t outrun shotgun pellets.

Mason didn’t bother sneaking to the end of the tunnel. He walked boldly toward it, keeping to the center. He broke into the open, discovering the source of the brightness.

It looked like a command center, a circular area the size of a small house, with other tunnels radiating from it in five directions. About twenty men and women stood or sat in front of computers. He took it all in. Some froze as they spotted him, and the conversations stopped.

Mason lifted his shotgun. He leveled it at the closest person. A woman with dark hair, about his age.

“Anybody moves,” Mason said, “she dies first. I’ll get about five more of you before you manage to scatter.”

Again, silence, except for the slight hissing of circulated air.

“Guess nobody likes those odds. I’m kind of disappointed, to tell you the truth.”

He surveyed the faces in the group. Not many showed fear. More like shock and surprise.

“All right then,” Mason said. “Every one of you, get on your belly. You’ll wait until the soldiers arrive.”

He did another count of everyone, as ordered. He’d been wrong. There were twenty-five Clan here. And this was the obvious base for their operations. He’d just broken the back of the group, and that warranted a big reward.

But not big enough.

He looked for the girl. She was the real prize.

None of the women on the floor looked the age of the fugitive’s daughter or were wrapped in that dark cloak she wore. He saw the old man instead. Watching carefully that no one swung an arm to trip him, he walked among the prone bodies toward the old man. Brij.

Already, he could hear the distant thumping of the boots of the approaching soldiers.

“Where’d she go?”

The old man didn’t answer.

“Where’d she go?” Mason kicked the man in the kidneys. He arched as if struck by electricity, then fell and stayed motionless.

What Mason wanted to do was go back and grab that first woman by the hair with his casted hand and hold a knife to her throat with his other. No. He wanted to run the knife against her throat, feel the give of cartilage and let her bleed all over his arm. Warm blood. That would show the rest he was serious.

But to do it, he’d have to set down the shotgun. Pacifists or not, he doubted they’d meekly let him control them without a shotgun. He’d have to wait. The soldiers were almost upon them anyway.

“There are only five minutes left,” one of the men called out, his voice traveling over the hard floor.

“Five minutes?” Mason said.

“On my computer. I set the timer. This area is rigged for destruction just like our entrances. We have to protect the rest of our tunnels.”

“Five minutes?” Mason felt a chill spread through his chest. “Five minutes.”

It would serve all of them right if he made them stay. But there’s no way they’d obey his orders unless he monitored them with his shotgun, which meant the mountain would crash in on him too.

“All of you—on your feet!”

They all obeyed. Even the old man attempted to get to his knees, groaning. A woman near him stooped to help.

“Leave him,” Mason barked.

“No.” Her defiance showed no fear. Mason hated it when people didn’t fear him. His finger twitched on the shotgun. He really wanted to kill someone. Right now, the woman defying him. But he was all too aware that the shotgun blast might set off the detonation. No sense committing suicide when he could torture her later.

The soldiers arrived, and Mason rushed forward, waving his cast. “Take them out, and keep them in close custody! This is the headquarters. Set to destruct in minutes!”

In seconds, the soldiers had surrounded the men and women and were hurrying them back out of the tunnel.

Mason turned on his ultraviolet light and began scanning the floor.

He saw it almost instantly. The same small footprints he’d been following down the tunnel. The same small circles where the tip of her walking stick touched the tunnel floor.

It was easy to see where the footprints led into another tunnel, going deeper into the mountain.

They were protecting her, Mason thought. She was given directions to find her way out by a different route.

If he followed her, he’d have a way out too.

Without a second’s hesitation, Mason ran down the same tunnel. He wanted to get as far away from the explosion as possible before it happened.