Here and Gone(74)

‘Keep it on her,’ Danny said. ‘If she tries anything, shoot her in the leg or the arm. Don’t kill her.’

‘I’ll try not to,’ Audra said, raising the pistol, aiming past Danny at Collins’ thigh as he used a pair of wire cutters to snip the cable ties.

Danny stepped away and Collins climbed out. She took two steps before falling, landing hard on her shoulder, unable to break her fall with her wrists still tied at the small of her back.

‘Shit,’ she said.

‘Come on,’ Danny said as he reached down to help her up. ‘Walk around a little. Get your blood moving.’

They gave her a minute or two to recover before Audra said, ‘Which way?’

Collins looked beyond the car and said, ‘That way. About a ten-, fifteen-minute walk.’

‘Let’s go,’ Audra said. ‘You lead.’

Collins left the trail and made her way through the trees. Audra and Danny followed. They made slow progress, and Audra pushed Collins between the shoulder blades to hurry her along. Collins stumbled, but didn’t fall. She looked back at Audra.

‘If you undid my hands I could walk faster,’ she said. ‘I can’t keep my balance like this.’

Audra looked to Danny. He shrugged.

‘I won’t do anything,’ Collins said. ‘You guys still got the guns.’

‘All right,’ Audra said, levelling the Glock at Collins’ shoulder.

Danny took the wire cutters from his pocket and approached. He snipped the cable tie and let it fall away. Collins rubbed her wrists, stretched her arms, rolled her shoulders.

‘Now move,’ Audra said.

A little of the chill left the air as they walked, causing perspiration to spread on her back. Birds called high among the trees and creatures stirred below, rustling in the shadows. Audra kept her gaze ahead, past Collins, looking for any sign of the cabin.

And there it was, through the pines.

Audra froze. There it was, her children inside.

She ran. Arms churning, feet pounding the forest floor, past Danny, past Collins, she ran like she hadn’t run in years, since school, when she ran for the pure joy of it. Danny called after her, but she ignored him.

‘Sean!’ Her voice echoed through the trees. ‘Louise!’

Audra didn’t slow as she burst into the clearing, as she mounted the porch, as she shoved the open door aside. Her feet skidded on the wooden floor as she tried to halt, and her balance deserted her. She landed on her hip, didn’t pause, got on to her hands and knees, still holding the Glock. She crawled to the open trapdoor, calling their names, calling …

Open?

She saw the splintered trapdoor that rested back on its chains. She saw the lock torn loose from the wood, still hanging from the loop on the floor. She looked down into the basement and saw it empty.

Knowing they wouldn’t hear her, Audra called her children’s names once more.





43


SEAN AND LOUISE kept walking. Louise lagged behind, and Sean had given up cajoling her into hurrying. He had realized some time ago they were lost, so there seemed no point rushing. But they had to move, no matter what.

‘I want some water,’ Louise called from ten feet behind.

‘You already had some,’ Sean said. ‘I told you, we have to make it last. I don’t know how long we’ll be out here. Might be days. We need to conserve our supplies.’

Sean carried those supplies in a plastic bag: two twelve-ounce bottles of water, four candy bars, two apples, and a banana. He had wrapped the handles around his wrist because his palm still stung and bled. The bag seemed extraordinarily heavy for all it contained, his shoulder aching at the effort. His lungs also. No matter how deep he breathed, there never seemed to be enough air. The altitude, he supposed, and clearly Louise felt it too.

He didn’t know how long they’d been walking, but he guessed it was at least an hour. The trail that led back to the road hadn’t been that far away from the cabin, so he knew they had gone the wrong way. He cursed himself for it now. He’d been in too much of a hurry to get away to pay attention to the direction of their flight. Even if there’d been a sense of the land rising or falling as they walked, he might have been able to find a way down to lower ground, but the forest remained level, no matter how far they trekked. Maybe they could stop soon, share one of the candy bars and the banana. But not yet.

The thing Sean wanted more than anything else in the world, other than to see his mother, was to lie down on the bed of pine needles and go to sleep. He hadn’t slept the night before, and his hands still bled from the effort. The knife’s handle had lain on the bottom step for an immeasurable time while he stared at it, angry at the blade for breaking, furious at himself for thinking it wouldn’t. Eventually he had descended the stairs and picked up the handle, turned it in his hands as he studied it.

It was only then that he noticed the blade had not in fact snapped. Rather, the handle had come apart, the halves separating so that the blade came away. He worked the halves with his thumbs, noted how they flexed. Then he sat down on the bottom step, stared at the handle some more. By now, Louise had fallen asleep, and she snored on the mattress. Proper sleep, not the fever-drowse of the last day or so.

He looked back up to the trapdoor, and the blade still lodged by the third screw. A blade and a handle was all he needed, wasn’t it? He simply needed a way to put them together again. At the top of the stairs, he examined the blade itself. He slipped off his T-shirt, wrapped it around his right hand, and reached for the metal. A push and a pull, and it came loose.