When Shadows Fall (28 page)

Chapter
58

ADRIAN WASN’T FEELING
well. He’d lost more blood than he’d realized. The stupid pellets must have nicked an artery in his stomach. He’d knocked the vile, unclean woman on the head, and carrying her weight coupled with the injury made the going slow.

His only thoughts were of home. The quiet solitude of his chamber; the blood of the sacrosancts making him whole. Part of his mind was in revolt, screaming at him to run, to hide, to escape, but he couldn’t leave Curtis behind. He was bound to her, bound to Eden, as tightly as if she’d yoked a golden rope around his neck that became a permanent part of his skin, tying him to her slender hands.

When she’d received the copy of Doug’s will, the greatest betrayal of all, and understood that the operation was in jeopardy, her first and only thought had been the welfare of her people. She had to keep Eden safe. Adrian had been sent to clean up the mess, to retrieve the lost one’s pod and come home.

Now he was torn asunder, bloodied and weak, barely able to stand. But still triumphantly dragging their nemesis into the void. He had no doubt the FBI were behind him. The only thing to do was push on, forward, ever forward, and fulfill Kaylie’s destiny. She was to be the Greatest Sacrifice, and Doug had stolen her from their grasp, throwing the universe out of balance.

The sun needs the moon; the tides, the shore. The trinity of Eden had been disturbed for too many years, and now he was going to bring harmony back to their world.

He stumbled into the opening, eyes momentarily blinded by the light of his sun. Curtis was lying on the altar, dressed in flowing white garments, her hair a blaze of red against the cool gray stone.

He dropped the sullied one onto the floor and rushed to his maiden. Wiped the hair back from her face. Realized she was bound, hand and foot, tied onto the sacrificial space. Between her legs was the child Rachel, eyes closed, skin pale as wax, her head resting on Curtis’s womb.

“My love, what have they done to you?”

Curtis looked at him, saw deep into his mind, as she always had. “You have done this. Remember this always. I am the light and the resurrection. Never forget me, Adrian. I will be your salvation.”

He kissed her, heard her words, momentous whispers, growing louder and stronger, and smelled the fire, coming closer, burning his lips and hands and hair, her fire, her lovely, deathly fire, consuming him.

“You have done well, my love,” she whispered, and the men came. They flooded into the chamber from both sides, shouting.

“You take the right side, I’ve got left, I’ve got left.”

“Lock down that south spot. Kill his egress.”

He spread his arms wide and faced them, shielding Curtis with his body.

“He’s moving. Stop him.”

“Firing, firing, firing.”

The bullets seared into Adrian’s flesh, a burning pain so intense he screamed in agony, and he knew there would be no recovering from this.

Curtis was watching him with eyes wide, her arms still bound, as he fell to the floor, first on his knees, then onto his side, knocking the breath out of him. Blood seeped from several wounds. Their eyes locked, and he ceased to know the passage of time. He was safe within her mental embrace.

Her sunlight spilled into the chasm, lighting the air on fire, and as his vision began to dim, the glamour fell away from the woman he loved. He saw the truth. Her skin was gray and wrinkled, the elasticity of youth forever gone. The lovely strawberry blond color he’d so loved, the one he’d sought to recreate over and over, from the first girl he took, little Kaylie Rousch, to the last, Rachel Stevens; the color that made the little girls look like the daughters he and Curtis would have had, was dulled to a buttery patina, heavily laced with gray. Her lips drew down toward her chin, not in pain, but in age.

She was old and wrinkled and no longer the carefree, brave woman who had kissed him after watching him try to kill a girl and forgiven him afterward. But she was and always would be beautiful to him. She gave him his soul, his freedom, kept him from becoming a raving lunatic. Gave him boundaries, and cared for him. Gave him a home and love and guidance. She’d led them to where they would be. Shared her beliefs, the one true way. Her death would be the harbinger of the apocalypse, which was the reason they needed to keep her alive, through the sacrosancts.

The light began to fade, he couldn’t see her face clearly. An FBI agent, the big dark-haired one who’d shot him, lifted the child from her very womb and cradled her in his arms. Another tended to Curtis, unbound her hands and feet, helped her to a seated position then to stand. She looked toward the door, turned away from him and did not look back. As she walked away, each step took a piece of his heart with her.

He saw Lauren then, his blue-eyed girl. Her inner sun glowed, a fire that could never be dampened, and she blessed him with the nod of her head, and her lips formed a single word.
Father.

No matter what happened to them, their daughter would live on.

The flash of prescience gone, another man came to him, the detective. He kicked the gun from his hands, knelt and pressed his fingers into Adrian’s neck.

“Sam, come here, hurry.”

Then she was touching him, pressing on his chest hard, over and over, her lips against his, her sweet breath pushing air into him, air his body would not accept.

His last caress. He used her air, spoke the words he needed to be forever shriven.

“I did not kill Doug. He was my friend. My only true friend.”

Eyes staring, Adrian’s head slumped to the side. The pain disappeared, blackness enveloped him and despite the woman’s frantic attempts, his chest ceased to rise again.

Chapter
59

XANDER TOUCHED SAM’S
shoulder with his good hand. “He’s gone,” he said.

She heard Jordan mutter, “Good riddance.” But she wanted to cry. Feeling a life slip away under your own hands, watching that light dim, made her ache with bitter sorrow, even if the soul she’d failed to save was black with evil.

She stood, wiped her lips with the back of a bloody hand, wondered how long she’d been working on him. She should have left him to die in the dirt, but some part of her had been drawn to try to save him, even if it was simply for other people to see justice.

“Where’s Rachel?” she asked.

“Jordan’s people have her. She’s okay.”

“Thank God.” She turned and saw the woman then, standing between Fletcher and Baldwin, felt a coolness slip over her.

Curtis Lott was in her early sixties, tall and slim, with the deepest strawberry blond hair Sam had ever seen. Her eyes were like the sky, deep blue and unfathomable. She watched Sam with her head slightly cocked to the side.

“Thank you.” Her voice was soft, gentle. “You have saved us all.”

Sam knew she was speaking to the FBI agents, but the woman’s voice seemed to echo in her mind, as though she was speaking directly to Sam.

Baldwin slapped handcuffs on the woman’s wrists. She didn’t fight him, just stood there serenely, as if she had all the time in the world.

A young woman appeared in the mouth of the cave.

“Mother!”

She started to run to Curtis and Sam saw the resemblance between them. They had the same eyes, though the girl’s were blue, not green; the same tilt of the head. Their hair was different, too. The girl’s was a light blond. Sam glanced down at the dead man at her feet. Just like his.

Jordan caught the girl and whirled her around, toward the cavern wall, her forearm in the girl’s back so she wasn’t a threat.

“It is well, my child,” Curtis Lott said. “Do not fight them, Lauren. These are the brave souls who have saved us.”

She stopped fighting, and Jordan released her. Lauren’s face was streaked with tears, but she was still beautiful, delicate in the ways her mother had aged away from. She nodded to each of them in turn, her eyes touching them in benediction, her white robes making her look like an angel.

“Thank God for you. You have removed the beast from this earth. Adrian has been terrorizing us for years. He moved us around, kept us locked in dungeons and basements. He kept Mother and me prisoner. We’ve been locked away for so long. The things he did to us—” She broke off, went to her mother’s side, put her arm around her waist.

Curtis leaned her head on her daughter’s shoulder. She addressed the wall of FBI agents still on alert, still holding their weapons up. “Is the girl still alive? She told me her name was Rachel.”

Baldwin looked skeptical. “Yes, she is. So is Kaylie Rousch.”

Sam looked immediately for Kaylie, realized one of the men must have taken her out of the cave.

Curtis smiled beatifically. “Kaylie is alive? She made it out? He told us she was dead. That he found her body rotting in the woods, along with Doug. Oh, we must give thanks. Lauren, will you lead us?” They both bowed their heads, but Baldwin interrupted.

“Now isn’t the time. You’re under arrest, Ms. Lott. You’re going to be transported to FBI headquarters, where you will be interrogated, and then charged.”

She nodded and smiled, spoke as if he’d complimented her cooking instead of signed her death warrant. “I understand. There is much we need to discuss. We will have time to thank the great Mother later. She knows all our thoughts.”

Curtis stumbled a little bit as Baldwin led her from the cavern as if her legs had been numbed from the bounds. Sam could have sworn she saw Curtis nod at her daughter. Lauren stayed back a few feet, following slowly.

Sam turned to Xander. “I’m confused. What just happened? Why didn’t they arrest Lauren, too?”

“While you were working on Adrian, Curtis Lott told Baldwin and Jordan that she and Lauren have essentially been held hostage for years. There are a lot of questions to be answered.”

“Do you believe her? It contradicts everything Kaylie told us.”

He watched them disappear into the darkness, adjusted his arm in the sling. “No, I don’t. But she might have a shot at convincing a jury.” He pulled her to him with his good arm. “It’s over, Sam. It’s over.”

* * *

They emerged from the cave to see the flames licking at the remains of the farmhouse. There was a group trying to extinguish the fire. Others were running a hose from the well, pumping water onto the surrounding trees so they wouldn’t catch and light the entire forest.

Fletcher joined them, and together they watched the wall of flames.

Thor pressed against her legs, cautious of the fire. It smelled much different than the one in their fireplace at home, or Xander’s fire pit; he knew it wasn’t safe.

“Where’s Rachel? And what happened to Kaylie?” Sam asked. “Do they have her in custody?”

“Rachel’s with the EMTs. She’s been drugged, probably from the get-go, so she’s not going to be a good witness. She’s in and out of it, but she’s going to be okay. Nothing appears to have happened to her, nothing physical at least. We’ll have to wait for the drugs to wear off to find out the whole truth. Kaylie’s being transported, too. She took a pretty hard knock to the head when Adrian hit her. She’s got a bad concussion. But, Sam, I have good news. We found the other girls. They’re all alive. All five of them,” Fletcher said.

A huge breath of relief left her. “Thank God. Who set the fire?”

“You know how those flash bangs are. They catch things on fire. Whoever was in the farmhouse and the barn was shooting the hell out of the HRT forward advance. They had to put a stop to it. They lobbed a few in, but whatever was in there caught, and whoosh, the whole thing went up.”

“Where are the casualties?”

“Being evacuated. Only two women were in dire straits. The rest were rounded up and are being treated. The four guards are being transported to the morgue once the scene has been secured.”

“So we have witnesses. Good. Is Jordan okay?”

They looked over to see Jordan gesticulating wildly as she argued with Thurber about something. “Yeah, she’s good. She’s a hell of a shot. She took Adrian right in the neck, dropped him. I think this is probably the first time she’s fired her weapon on a scene. She’ll be okay.”

Baldwin joined them.

“What the hell just happened down there?” Sam asked. “Curtis Lott was claiming she was the victim, not the perpetrator?”

“That’s what she’s saying. And that’s what the rest of her flock are saying, too. They’re acting like they haven’t seen her in years.”

There was a knot of people about a hundred yards away. Sam could just make out flowing white robes as Curtis was led to a car, arms behind her back, head held high.

“Are they brainwashed? Or did Adrian really run this place, after all?”

Baldwin had been running his hands through his hair. It was sticking up in all directions. “Honestly, I don’t care. We found Rachel Stevens, and she’s in one piece. We found the other missing girls. The rest is going to take a while to sort through.” He smiled. “You did wonderfully, Sam. You, too, Xander. Though I need your weapon.”

Xander handed it over. “I shot four center mass. You’ll get that back to me?”

“Assuming it all matches up, yes, but it might be a while. There’s so much brass down there it’s going to take ages to sort. For right now, Sam, let’s get you and Xander out of here. We’ll take it from here. Go get Xander fixed up. I’ll touch base with you tomorrow. We’re going to need full, official statements. But good job, both of you.”

He hugged Sam, shook Xander’s good hand, and Fletcher’s, then strode back into the fray, shouting orders.

“I’ll take you out,” Fletcher said. “It’s a straight shot up the drive. Jordan said there were a bunch of ambulances waiting up there.”

“I am not going anywhere in an ambulance,” Xander said. He was smeared in smoke and dirt and blood. Sam knew she must be a sight, too.

“At least let them look you over. You are going to need a decent orthopedic surgeon for that break,” Sam said.

“What, you think some EMTs are better docs than you? It’s fine. I can feel it knitting already.”

But she knew she’d won, and he wouldn’t make too much of a fuss. He looked as though he hurt, and they could help with that.

They started the walk up the long drive. People in FBI jackets were still pouring in to help with the wounded and put out the fire.

Sam had a moment of sheer exhaustion. Her feet dragged like they were encased in mud. She didn’t know if she could walk all the way back. She just wanted to sink down into the ground and sleep.

Xander noticed, put his good arm around her waist. The M-4 bumped her in the back. She hadn’t shot a single bullet, and was very thankful she hadn’t been forced into firing at Adrian. Xander and Baldwin and Fletcher and Jordan had taken care of it for her.

She leaned her head on Xander’s shoulder, grateful for the support. He gave her a little kiss on the forehead.

Fletcher turned and put his hands on his hips. “What are you guys doing? We don’t have time for a make-out session.”

Thor began to growl, and the forest suddenly came alive.

Fletcher pivoted and raised his weapon, shouting in surprise, and Thor leaped at him. His teeth sank into Fletcher’s sleeve and he went down under one hundred pounds of dog. Xander pushed Sam to the ground, whipped the M-4 over his good shoulder and got his finger on the trigger. Both he and Fletcher returned fire. A figure in white fell to the ground from a spot in the trees, blond hair sailing behind her, and the shooting stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

It was Lauren. Lauren had somehow evaded the FBI agents and fired at them.

Sam crawled onto her knees, saw blood.

But it wasn’t coming from Xander. It was Fletcher.

He was staring down at his chest, his mouth open in shock. He was on his back, Thor on top of him, teeth still latched onto Fletcher’s sleeve.

Xander called Thor, but he didn’t move.

Sam scrambled over to Fletcher. The bullet had entered his neck and exited out the back, but nicked the carotid artery. Blood seeped from the wound at an alarming rate, staining the leaves and dirt with blood.

Xander grabbed Fletcher’s radio and starting screaming, “Officer down, Officer down,” while Sam put pressure on the wound.

She thought Thor was shot, he was so limp and heavy, but she realized Fletcher had the dog locked in his arm. She moved his hand. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. You can let him go now. You’re going to be fine. Fletch, stay with me, come on, that’s good, stay with me.”

He relaxed his grip on the dog, and Thor stumbled to his feet. His snout had a graze, a small channel of red. Sam realized the trajectory of the bullet, coming down from the trees, would have been a head shot for Fletcher if Thor hadn’t knocked him down.

“Braver Hund!”
she said, touching his snout. “You’re going to be fine. Now let me work.” Thor trotted to Xander while Sam assessed the full extent of Fletcher’s injury.

“Shit.”

Xander leaned over her. “What do you need, what do you need?”

“An operating room,” she said. “Sutures, and a thrombin bandage to help stop the bleeding. It’s just a nick, but it needs to be sutured immediately.”

Fletcher was groaning. She touched him on the shoulder and smiled down at him. “Come on, Fletch, ’tis but a flesh wound. You’re going to be fine.”

But her eyes didn’t look as calm as her voice sounded, and his were rolling in pain. He tried to talk, but she shook her head. “Shh. It’s okay. I’m going to fix you right up. Might hurt a bit. Be ready.”

Xander handed her the emergency medic kit he always carried. She ripped it open with her teeth, pulled out what she needed. She swiped Betadine over Fletcher’s neck, then used a scalpel to open the wound in his neck so she could ligate the hole in the artery. Fletcher grunted, and tried to roll away from the pain. “Hold him down,” she shouted at Xander, who moved to the other side of Fletcher’s head and put his knees on Fletcher’s opposite shoulder.

There were people coming toward them, shouting, and she heard the rotors of the Little Bird drawing closer, but she ignored it all and swept the thin sutures through and in and out until the blood stopped pulsing from his neck. She tied it off, slapped the thrombin field dressing on.

Fletcher had gone limp beneath her hands. She freaked for a moment, felt for his pulse, realized he’d conveniently passed out. She didn’t blame him. She felt a bit like passing out herself.

One of the medics knelt beside her, grilled her about what she’d done, said, “Well done,” when he heard. They trundled Fletcher onto a portable stretcher and carried him off to the helicopter, which took off into the air so fast it made her dizzy. Leaves and dirt and branches rained all over them, then settled as the helicopter rose farther into the sky.

Sam sat down hard, legs crossed in front of her. She wiped her hands on her jeans. Xander dropped in the dirt beside her. They were both breathing hard. Thor cuddled between them, licked Xander on the nose.

She buried her hands in his thick fur and laid her head on his flank.

“Braver Hund,”
she whispered.
“Braver Hund.”

And the shadows grew close, and rain began to fall.