The Rescue(77)

“Is the road sturdy?”

“Very sturdy. They can hit sixty miles per hour if the vehicles are solid.”

“They’ll be very solid—and armored,” said Decker.

“That gives us five minutes tops,” said Pierce.

“Five minutes to do what?” said Decker. “There’s nowhere to go.”

“That’s not exactly true,” said Pierce. “Looks can be deceiving out here.”

“How deceiving?”

“Sneak-up-behind-you deceiving,” said Aleman.

Pierce chuckled. “He’s easy to sneak up on these days.”

“Funny,” said Decker. “A few tunnels isn’t going to help us against thirty-plus armed mercenaries.”

“Then we’ll have to even the odds,” said Aleman.

“How?” said Pierce.

“I said the road was sturdy, not safe,” said Aleman, leaning down and opening a hatch. “We need to hurry.”

Decker stared at the illuminated hole leading down into Aleman’s lair, thinking this was a mistake. He didn’t trust the guy any more now than he had when they hit the ground—despite Aleman’s explanation and apology. Something told him that one of them wasn’t coming out of that hole.

“Down the rabbit hole,” said Pierce. “You first.”

“There has to be another option,” said Decker.

“There isn’t,” said Aleman. “We’ll have a fighting chance down below.”

Decker scanned the horizon around them, then shook his head. “Rabbit hole it is,” he said, before climbing down the ladder.





CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Decker hit the dusty ground hard, having jumped halfway down the ladder to clear the way. His knees took the brunt of the fall, crackling under the weight of his frame and gear. Probably not the best idea, but five minutes would go in a snap. Every second would count. Before he straightened up, Aleman landed a few feet away, rolling onto his side, followed immediately by Pierce, who landed like a cat.

Decker scanned his surroundings. They had landed at the back of a long patch of flattened dirt dividing smooth, ground-to-ceiling earthen walls. An aboveground pool and a swing set sat in the middle of the dirt strip, partially obscuring his view of two four-wheel-drive vehicles. A Jeep Wrangler and an SUV he couldn’t identify sat parked in front of a steep ramp that terminated at the ceiling at the opposite side of the circle.

The timber ceiling, about twenty feet high, was held up by an extensive system of wood beams and reinforced metal supports. Light fixtures hung from the beams, flooding the open area with light. He was surprised by how little of the light actually escaped through the roof. Halfway down the ceiling, a garage door opener hung by metal support brackets, its track leading to a point just above the vehicles.

At first glance, he couldn’t help being impressed with the structure, but the awe quickly faded to pity, his anger toward Aleman dropping another notch.

“You’ve lived down here for two years?” he said, turning to Aleman.

“Mostly. It isn’t as bad as it looks,” said Aleman, unconvincingly.

“I guess.”

“What was your long-term plan?” said Pierce.

“Stay down here for five years,” said Aleman. “And hope it all went away.”

“Not much of a plan,” said Decker. “Or life.”

“I didn’t think I deserved much more.”

Decker turned to Aleman. “I’ll never forgive you, but when this is all over, I want you to live a normal life with your family. They don’t deserve this.”

Aleman’s phone buzzed again. “They’re past the one-mile mark, moving seventy miles per hour.”

“How do we defend this place?” said Decker.

“We don’t.”

“Fuck this,” said Pierce, heading back to the ladder.

Decker started to follow.

“I have a plan,” said Aleman. “But it doesn’t involve turning this place into the Alamo. We buy some time.”

“Time for what?” said Decker.

“Time for us to slip out of here.”

“If we’re going to use those vehicles to escape, I suggest we get moving,” said Pierce.

“No. I have something better. Follow me,” said Aleman, heading toward a doorway on the left side of the underground structure.

Pierce gave Decker a severely skeptical look.

“I know,” said Decker, chasing after Aleman.

When Aleman reached the door, he grabbed the handle and paused.

“Watch your step. We built the structures a foot off the ground,” he said. “It doesn’t rain much here, but when it does, the pump system can’t handle all of it. This whole space is a shallow pool when we get a big weather system. The kids love it.”

Decker stepped over the high lip and into a high-ceilinged room that looked like any other family room you might walk into around the country—except it had no windows. Instead, basic Southwest landscape murals had been painted on the wall facing the central dirt patch. He followed Aleman through the expansive living space into an equally well-appointed kitchen. Once again, the outside wall featured a mural, but this time was a Caribbean water view with pastel rooftops and moored sailboats.