Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 04 - Saddle Up (22 page)

“Breathe, honey. Take some long slow breaths and open your eyes, Liza. Look at me.” Tom’s voice grew stronger.

The feeling of slipping into unconsciousness subsided and I concentrated on breathing. When I finally opened my eyes, all I saw were Tom’s beautiful blue eyes.

“Hi, honey,” he said as a slow smile slid across his face.

“I’m going to drown,” I squeaked out in between my breathing that accelerated again as my body shook in absolute terror.

“No, honey,” Tom used his thumbs to massage my cheeks. “Don’t go back into the attack. Take another breath – slow and steady.”

“When did she start having these attacks?” I heard my dad ask.

“She told me she had her first when she fell into that abandoned mine.”

“Up in Oregon at the eating festival?” Dad asked.

“Yes. If she’s in danger and she doesn’t think she can get out of it, her first instinct is to panic. So far she’s been pretty much able to fight her way back, but this time the attack is winning. I can’t seem to pull her out of it.”

I could hear the conversation but I couldn’t respond or do anything about what they were saying. I didn’t have any control anymore; the panic attack was filling my body like a volcano ready to explode.

“Let me,” I heard my dad say.

“If I let go of her, she’ll slip under,” Tom said.

“Okay.”

I felt another set of hands on my face and heard my Dad’s voice. “Bobby. You’re not going to let a little thing like water get the best of you. You never did when you were a kid. You were afraid of it but you still water-skied better than Jordan, went off the high dive when she wouldn’t go near it, and swam like a fish. Come on Bobby, don’t be so weak. Don’t let it win!”

Damn him! I thought. He wasn’t experiencing this stupid attack I was. How dare he think I’m weak? Let him experience it and see if he can come back from it.

“What would your kids in your class say if they saw you? When they’re afraid to read – do you let them give up? No. Who takes them out to those bars and helps them go across them the first time? You do. Think about the bars, one rung at a time and fight your way back. Bobby, I am not carrying you out of this place. You’re too damn heavy. Look at the ladder, you broke it.”

What the hell! I snapped my head toward his voice and said, “I told you not to call me Bobby.”

Dad laughed and let go of my face. “Get your ass up and help us get out of here, Liza.”

I turned back to look at Tom who still held my face in his hands.

He was smiling. “If I thought insulting you would have worked better than being nice, I’d have tried it earlier.”

I leaned toward him and he kissed me.

“Oh, stop it,” Dad groaned and left the room.

When we pulled apart I said, “I would like to get out of here now, Tom. I’m fine for the moment, but if the water gets any higher, I’m not sure even Dad insulting me is going to work, again.”

CHAPTER 22

Tom brushed a strand of my hair that had come loose and said, “I don’t think you’re going to lose it again, Liza. You seem grounded at the moment.”

“It’s not going to last long the way the water continues to rise.”

“Well, your dad and I have tried everything we can think of to get that door open. What do you suggest?”

“We need to get to the window, right?”

“Yep, so we can try the cell phone. I’m not convinced it’s going to work then, either. If we could get it out of the window a few inches, maybe. But the window is covered with a metal wire mesh, I’m not sure we can get through it.”

I glanced around at the piping system. “Where is the water coming from?”

“I think someone deliberately punctured the piping system that holds the lagoon water.”

“Doc?”

“I doubt it. From what you told me about him, I don’t think he’d deliberately kill us, especially since he thinks you’re pregnant. I suspect he really thinks we’re going to be okay. Whoever is working with him has other plans for us,” Tom said.

“You still have your gun?”

“Sure but it’s my little ankle piece, not much fire power there.”

“What about Agent Souza’s gun?”

“I think he dropped it outside when he was shot and I was too worried about getting shot myself to go looking for it. I just dragged him in here. Besides, your dad and I have looked around the door and we can’t find a place where we think firing a shot might even help.”

“The electricity has to be coming into the building right?”

“From someplace, sure.”

“What if you could get a shot off at the wiring or a transformer box coming into the building?”

“My little gun’s not a rifle. It’s not going to be accurate at a distance, plus it’s pitch black outside, so I wouldn’t be able to see what I was shooting at either.”

I reached up and put my hand on a two inch pipe next to me. “Could you use one of these pipes to extend the barrel of the gun and just make several shots, hoping to hit something?”

Tom looked at the pipe and thought about it for a moment. “Maybe, but the wiring might be in the back of this building and I’d be shooting wildly at nothing.”

“I can’t sit here and wait to die, Tom. A slim chance of getting out is better than none.”

“Okay, then we could break a few more pipes, the influx of water should get me high enough to reach the window. But won’t that bring on another panic attack?”

“Not if I am the one breaking the pipes and letting in the water.”

“Okay and if the cell phone doesn’t work, I’ll shoot toward where I’d expect a telephone pole to be.”

“You’ll have to make the shot treading water,” I reminded him.

“You sure are asking a lot.” His eyes were filled with uncertainty and doubt.

Just the sheer thought of what we had to accomplish and the distinct possibility that it wasn’t going to work sent my mind and body reeling toward another attack. Tom must have seen it coming again too because I saw the panic in his eyes.

I took a deep breath, grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him toward me. We both needed to focus on something else besides our imminent deaths. “If you do it, I’ll make this my last year of teaching in San Ramon. We’ll get married in June, I’ll move to Gainsville, and we’ll start having babies right away.”

“I appreciate the incentive.” Tom put his hands on mine. He forced a smile but his eyes switched back to doubt and he mumbled, “Of course, the alternative is that we die here.”

“Well then, you better be a good shot because I’m not going to forgive you if I actually do fulfill a childhood nightmare and die by drowning.”

“Okay.” Tom took a deep breath which seemed to resolve the conflict in his mind because now I saw determination in his face.

“What are we going to do about Agent Souza? We can’t let more water get to him.”

“Let’s leave him here and close the door between this room and the one where the door is. Hopefully, it will contain the water in the other room.”

“Will we be able to open the front door when the room is filled with water?”

“Another good question,” Tom said. “The door slides open so if we can disconnect the electricity that’s holding it closed we might be able to get it pried open a few inches and then the water should flow outward to help force the door open.”

“You’re going to have to dive down to open the door because the room will be filled with water.”

“Yes, I know.”

“My dad can’t swim, so he’s not going to be able to help you.”

Tom stared at me. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Nope, he never learned.”

“But you guys had a boat.”

I shrugged. “He always wore a life jacket.”

Tom and I stood, the water was eight inches high and in another four would reach Agent Souza.

“Let’s get that door closed. It’s the best hope of keeping him dry.” Tom treaded through the water and I followed him.

I could feel the water current coming toward us, so maybe the leaks were all in the other room. At least I hoped so.

Tom closed the door, then reached his hand down to feel the bottom. “It goes all the way down to the bottom, so I don’t think any water is getting into the room.”

“Okay, let’s break some more pipes.” I pushed the pipe next to me away from its fitting and water began to flow into the room.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dad asked.

Tom explained the situation and my suggestion.

Dad kicked at a larger pipe as he said, “I knew she’d get us out of here.”

We all started shoving the pipes to the right and left, dislodging them from their fittings. The room filled quickly – soon it was at our calves, then knees.

When it got to our thighs, Tom handed me his gun, cell phone, and a two foot length of pipe. “Keep these dry. This isn’t going to work if they’re wet.”

“The water is starting to rise quickly so I think we’d better not bust anymore pipes,” my dad said.

We all nodded and stood still while the water rose.

“What are you going to do, Dad?” I asked.

“I guess it’s time to learn to swim,” he suggested.

“Hold on to any of the pipes that you can reach near the side walls. They’ll keep you afloat as long as possible, just don’t dislodge any more,” Tom suggested. “I’d rather the water started rising slower.”

Dad nodded and put his hands around a pipe near his head.

“Give me the gun and pipe,” Tom said. “It will be easier if you only have to keep one item dry and I think the cell phone is our best bet. I don’t think the pipe will work or that I’ll actually hit anything out there.”

I nodded and handed him back the two items he requested.

As the water rose to our chest, he said, “So what are we going to name our first child?”

“Boy or girl?”

“Say it’s twins.” He grabbed one of the pipes on the side to steady himself.

“It better not be twins or you’ll be carrying one of them.” I told him as I grabbed a pipe and my feet left the ground.

“Okay, if it’s a boy?”

“How about William?” Dad suggested.

“Nope, I’ve arrested two Williams. They were both really bad man. How about Greg?”

“No, I had a Greg that used to bite the other kids,” I told him.

“This isn’t going to be easy between your profession and mine,” Tom said.

“Tyler?” I suggested, as the water touched my chin and my stomach tightened. I could feel the panic attack coming back.

“Tyler sounds like a sissy name,” Tom said. “I don’t want a boy with a name that’s going to get him beat up in high school.”

“It’s not a sissy name,” I told him, then realized what he was doing. He was aggravating me to keep me focused away from my panic attack.

Tom smiled when I turned my head and frowned at him. “Okay, what if it’s a girl?”

“Emily?” my dad suggested. “It was your mother’s middle name.”

“I like Emily,” Tom said.

“Me, too.” I kicked my feet to keep me afloat. There were no more pipes to hold on to so I kept one hand on the wall to steady myself. “Dad? Are you okay?”

“Stop talking to me, Bobby. I’m trying to concentrate on kicking my feet and keeping my face above the water. I don’t seem to be able to do both at the same time.”

He went down and I said, “Tom!”

Tom held the gun and pipe over his head with his right hand and grabbed for my dad with his left. A few seconds later, my dad’s head came out of the water and he coughed up water.

“This was a lousy idea,” I said. If I lost my dad after just finding him a few months ago, it was going to kill me!

“You hold the gun and the pipe and I’ll keep you afloat,” Tom told my dad.

“I don’t need your help,” my dad said, then went under again.

Tom reached for my dad, but his hand came up empty.

I dove down through the water, found my dad floating downward, grabbed him around the waist and drove us both toward the surface of the water.

When we both came splashing out, Tom said, “You got the cell phone wet.”

“It wasn’t going to work anyway. You said it yourself.” I held on to my dad, kicking my legs and keeping us both afloat. But you know what really sucks?”

“Besides betting our lives on an impossible shot with a small caliber revolver and a piece of pipe?” Tom replied.

“No. I still have no idea what is going on in this town except Doc Sanders and Henry Mullins are up to something and I haven’t found out whose family will be killed next week.”

“If we get out of this alive, we’ll track the doctor down and ask him,” Tom said.

“I just remembered where I saw one of those tractors before,” my dad said.

“Was the land being leveled for a building?” I asked, pulling my dad’s face further out of the water.

“No, they were testing the land to see if there was any oil in the ground.”

“You think there might be oil in Ridgedale?” I asked.

Dad shrugged.

“What do you call that kind of tractor?”

“Seismic tractors or something that starts with a v,” Dad suggested.

“Does it sound like viper?”

“Yeah, I think its vibroseis truck.”

That word would look the same to someone reading lips, I thought. I grabbed a few of the pieces of wood that Dad and Tom had used to make the ladder that floated on the surface with us and handed them to Dad. He quickly put them under each arm.

“How does that find oil?” Tom asked.

“The tractor sends a pulse through the ground to simulate an aftershock after an earthquake. This expands and contracts the porous rocks, freeing the trapped oil.”

“And the hydrocarbons?”

“Both crude oil and natural gas are predominantly a mixture of hydrocarbons. If you find a high concentration of hydrocarbons, you send in the seismic truck and pound the earth. The surface shock generates sound waves which are refracted and reflected underground. The way in which the waves are propagated varies as they pass through the different strata. Using a highly-sensitive microphone known as a geophone, the geophysicist at the surface listens to the echo of these waves and records them, giving them a picture of the different layers under the earth.”

“And with that data and the chemical analysis that shows hydrocarbons, it is decided whether there is oil or not?” I asked.

Dad nodded.

“So Justin couldn’t find a contractor who had bid on the new road because there isn’t going to be a new road,” I suggested.

“Nope, I’d say they’re buying up the property so they’ll own the oil rights.”

“But do you own the oil that’s on your land?” Tom asked.

“Priscilla leases the land to the town’s people for a dollar a year. I can’t imagine any judge in the world would say that would mean that those people also own the oil in the ground.”

We were within a couple of feet of the windows. Dad was heavy and it was difficult to keep him afloat. His clothes were soaked with water but I was also getting tired of keeping us afloat by kicking my feet, and using one hand and the boards weren’t helping very much. When I tried to adjust my hold on him, I ripped Sheryl Ann’s shirt on one of the nails protruding from the board. The outfit was a total loss!

“So if she wants them to leave, why doesn’t she just kick them out?”

“I don’t think she’d that kind of person. She’d probably give the oil to whoever she leased the land to,” I said.

“Actually she doesn’t own the land. Blue Stripe Enterprises does, right?”

“That’s true.”

“What did Justin find out about Blue Stripe Enterprises?” Dad asked.

“Some corporation owns fifty percent of it and Priscilla owns the other fifty percent.”

“I bet the partner wants all the money,” Dad mused.