Nine

49

Malibu, California

Thursday, May 22, 7:20 P.M.

“I can’t believe this,” Ciara said.

“Sorry, miss,” the guard at the gate said.

“Tell Mr. Logan he either lets us both in, or he’ll have to meet me out here,” Alex said.

The guard relayed the information. After a few moments, he said, “When I open the gate, just follow the drive up to the house.”

As they entered the gates, Ciara said, “Was your family’s place like this one?”

“No, this one is higher up and has more acreage.”

“It’s pretty up here.”

He looked out. The sun was just above the horizon, about an hour away from setting. The view from the Logan property was spectacular.

“If you lived up here, would you run away from home?” Ciara asked.

He looked over at her. “Are you asking about Chase?”

“No-no, sorry. I meant Serenity Logan.”

“When I had her case, I wondered the same thing. From all I could learn, though, it was a mixture of rebellion and addiction. Elizabeth Logan was more patient than most parents would have been-maybe too patient. She felt a lot of guilt about not taking her grandson away from her daughter earlier on.”

“Guilt,” Ciara said, “is just one more useless luxury.”

He could see the tension on her face. “I had no business asking you to come with me,” he said. “You’ve had a worse day than I’ve had.”

“No-I’m glad you asked me. Especially after you told me Logan had been at the crime scene in Del Aire. And ‘helping’ with the investigation? This gives me the creeps.”

They were met by another guard near the house. He guided them to a study. Alex didn’t see Kit Logan right away-he wasn’t in the room but was standing at the railing of a large deck. A woman was with him. Both wore dark clothing. In other circumstances, they might have been a young couple about to enjoy a sunset. But Alex saw that they were tense, standing close but not touching. The woman’s voice was low, speaking in an anxious whisper.

As Alex and Ciara stepped onto the deck, Kit Logan turned toward them, and the woman’s whisper stopped. Kit briefly studied Alex, transferred a rabbit’s foot from his right hand to his left, then came forward and nervously shook Alex’s hand.

“You met me a long time ago,” he said.

“Yes, I remember that, Mr. Logan.”

“Please-call me Kit.”

“Not Christopher?”

Alex saw him flinch. “I prefer Kit,” he said.

Alex watched with interest as Kit seemed to quickly assess Ciara-she had hardly moved to fold her arms when he withdrew what might have been an offer to shake her hand as well. Alex thought he looked as relieved as Ciara.

Alex then turned to the woman who had been standing next to Kit and found himself speechless. Kit’s companion was gorgeous.

“Do you want me to get a bib for you,” Ciara said in low voice, “or are you going to stop drooling on your own?”

She hadn’t spoken quietly enough. Alex felt himself turn red with embarrassment and noticed that Kit and the woman seemed embarrassed, too.

“This is Gabe’s sister, Meghan Taggert,” Kit said, looking between Alex and the woman.

Meghan Taggert straightened her shoulders, then extended a hand to him. During the brief moment he had that hand in his own, Alex felt it tremble. Looking closer at her face, he thought she looked pale and as if she might have been crying earlier-her lips and eyelids were slightly swollen. She was upset now, he thought, but doing her best not to show it. She took a deep breath. “Thanks for meeting with us,” she said to him, completely ignoring Ciara. “I’m afraid we have bad news, though.”

“Oh?”

“Apparently Gabe saw the news and left here about two hours ago. I have no idea where he is now. We’re so worried about-”

“So, you’ve wasted our time,” Ciara interrupted.

Alex shot her a look, then said, “John told me that your ward is also missing, Mr. Logan. Do you have a photograph of her?”

“Yes,” he said. “If you’ll come with me into the study-”

“Alex,” Ciara said, “I left something in the car. Mind if I borrow your keys for a second?”

He looked at her suspiciously but gave them to her.

She walked out. He noticed that a guard followed her, but at a distance.

Kit handed him a photo.

“John led me to believe your ward was a girl.”

“She is. Spooky-that’s her nickname-Spooky prefers to wear her hair very short.”

“Is this recent?”

“Yes. That was taken about two months ago.”

“And John said you thought Everett Corey or Cameron Burgess might have taken her?”

“Yes.” Kit took the photo back. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time, Detective Brandon.”

“Kit-” Meghan said.

“It’s no use, Meghan. He doesn’t believe us. We’re wasting time we could be using to look for them.”

“Mr. Logan, I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression,” Alex said. “But you must realize why I’m feeling a little wary.”

“Nine of the ten people on the FBI’s Most Wanted list are dead,” Kit said. “Perhaps you realize why we’re feeling a little wary, too.”

“Why trust me in the first place?”

“Your uncle. And the dog.”

“The dog?”

“You let your nephew keep a smelly, underfed Labrador retriever that you obviously didn’t want.”

“So it was you. You were there.”

“Yes. I heard the call on the scanner. I was just trying to watch people, to figure out who could be trusted. I was hoping you could be. I remembered you from-” He clutched the rabbit’s foot harder. “I remembered you,” he said softly.

Alex turned to Meghan. “You were willing to go along with this? Risk your brother’s life because I let my nephew keep a dog?”

“I can understand why it seems like an omen to him. And yes, I think he could learn a lot about you just by watching you in that situation.”

Alex looked between them.

“You think we’re both crazy,” Kit said.

“Detective Brandon,” she said, “I was willing to give you a chance because I trust Kit’s ability to read people. He’s better at it than anyone I know. Is he wrong this time?”

“Let’s just say I’m not as used to the idea of retrievers as omens as you are. Did your brother leave here on foot or in a car?”

“Don’t answer, Meghan,” Kit said. “I’m sorry, Detective Brandon, but-”

“I’m sorry, too,” Ciara’s voice said. They turned to see her standing in the doorway. “Mr. Logan, I’m afraid we’ll have to ask you and Ms. Taggert to come in for questioning.”

“I’m afraid we’ll have to make it another time,” Kit said.

“Ciara-”

“You’ve lost your objectivity, Alex. I know you felt sorry for Mr. Logan and his grandmother all those years ago, but the fact is, these two have knowingly harbored a fugitive wanted for murder. They themselves can be considered accessories to murder. If they aren’t going to reveal information regarding Gabe Taggert’s whereabouts, they should be placed under arrest.”

“Damn it, Ciara-I gave John my word.”

“You also took an oath when you were sworn in. You tell me, Alex-are you playing by the rules? Should we have come out here without backup, entered an armed camp-”

“You won’t be harmed by my security staff,” Kit said.

She ignored him. “Let’s call the captain and see what he has to say about what we’re doing here, Alex.”

She was right, Alex knew. Only John’s faith in an army buddy’s loyalties and his own belief that someone in law enforcement was helping the killers had made him agree to this in the first place. But even if he had come out here with the whole department at his back, he wouldn’t have handled it the way she was. Now, they’d probably never hear a word out of either of these two.

“Is this some kind of good cop, bad cop script?” Meghan asked.

“No,” Kit answered, before Alex or Ciara could.

Kit Logan had been true to his word. The guards, though clearly unhappy with this turn of events, had allowed both Kit Logan and Meghan Taggert to be handcuffed and placed in the backseat of the car. “I’ll call your lawyer,” one of them had said to Kit. “And I’ll call Moriarty to tell him what a great pal his friend turned out to be.”

“Don’t upset Moriarty,” Kit had told him. “Spend your time trying to locate Everett Corey. He’ll know where Spooky is.”

Alex had managed to talk Ciara out of making the young man empty his pockets. Alex had patted him down and told her that if that wasn’t good enough, she could drive off without either one of them. While Ciara was busy patting down Meghan Taggert, Alex slipped the rabbit’s foot back into Kit Logan’s hand. Logan shot him a quick look of gratitude and then withdrew into a world of his own. The childish token of luck, and all the other talismans Logan carried, obviously meant more to him than Alex had originally guessed. Alex told himself he allowed Kit to keep anything that was not a weapon because he was still hoping for cooperation.

Ciara repaid him for his resistance to her tactics by refusing to give him his keys back. “I’m driving. You can count yourself lucky if I make it sound as if arresting them was your idea.”

“You can have all the credit,” he said as he opened the passenger door. “In fact, I insist on it.”

She seemed about to say something to this, but her cell phone rang, and he used the opportunity of her distraction to get into the car and talk to their detainees.

“Listen, I’m sure this can be straightened out quickly, but in the meantime, if there’s anything you can tell me that will help me out here, let me know now.”

Meghan Taggert said angrily, “If any harm comes to either Gabe or Spooky, it’s because you came here with that bitch.”

Logan was looking out the window but said, “No, Meghan. I’m sorry I didn’t put a better watch on Gabe. I should have known…”

“Stop it!” she said. “Not everything bad that happens is your fault! Not now, and not when you were younger, either. Gabe does stupid things all the time. This is just one more. You think I don’t know he’s a loser?”

“That’s not true.”

“Look,” Alex interrupted, “you two can fight all this out later. Kit, you told your guards to find Corey. Where do you think he might be?”

“He could be anywhere,” Kit said. “He was in Germany on Monday. We’ve just received a report he was in Mexico on Tuesday.”

“Mexico?” Alex thought of the grasshoppers. “Where in Mexico?”

“Oaxaca.”

“Jesus Christ.” Any small doubt he had of Everett Corey’s involvement came to an end.

Kit was watching him closely now. “He’s probably here-if not in L.A. or Malibu, then not far away. I know it was reported as suicide, but I think Cameron or Everett killed Freddy and Morgan. I think they took Spooky and tried to kill Moriarty. Gabe is probably safe-he’s good at hiding-he always has been.”

“That’s true,” Meghan said, looking at Kit in a way that made Alex wonder if the guy was blind. “That’s so true. You really think he’s safe, Kit?”

“I hope he is. I think Everett wants to punish you and me more than Gabe or Spooky.”

“Why?” Alex asked, but Ciara was getting into the car, and neither of them spoke.

Alex saw that Ciara was looking even more tense. “About your sister?” he asked.

He saw her struggle to keep her composure and felt alarm. He was sorry he had asked the question.

“Yes,” she managed to say. “I’m supposed to call back when I get home.” She glanced toward the backseat, then said, “I’ll tell you more later.”

They had reached the bottom of the road when his own cell phone rang. “Brandon.”

“Alex?”

“Clarissa? Did you find Chase?”

“Alex…” She was crying. “You have to help him, Alex…”

“Clarissa, what’s happened?”

“I…I’ve had a call from…from someone I was seeing. He has Chase, Alex.”

He said sharply to Ciara, “Stop the car!”

She pulled over.

“Take a deep breath,” he said into the phone. “I know it’s hard under the circumstances, but you’ve got to tell me this as calmly as you can. Who has Chase? What’s his name?”

“Everett Corey.”

“Corey!”

“He says…he says no police…no one else. Just you. Not even Miles. I’m sorry, Alex! I’m so damned sorry. But please, Alex-Chase!” He heard her sobbing.

With great effort, he bit back every word of anger. He managed to say, “Where?”

“He owns a school…”

He knew the answer even before he asked, “What school?”

“He owns Sedgewick.”

He swore. “Corey owns Sedgewick. And you wanted Chase to go there?”

“I didn’t know! I didn’t know he would do something crazy like this! I swear it. I never meant…oh God, I’m so sorry!”

He wanted to tell her that her sorrys weren’t worth shit, that they never had been. That for a fling with a man more than ten years her junior, she had let her son fall prey to someone who tortured and killed his captives. Images from the videotape from Oaxaca ran through his mind, and he suddenly felt bile rise in his throat.

And then he remembered what Shay Wilder had said and wondered if maybe it wasn’t Clarissa’s fault after all. Had Everett Corey used her to try to get to him? Taken Chase for the same reason?

“Alex?”

“I’m here, Clarissa. I’ll do what I can.”

He hung up. He tried to put his thoughts in order, but for a brief moment, could not. The images of the past week were too fresh, his fears for Chase too well founded. Everett Corey would not be kind to his captives.

He heard from the backseat, “I know Sedgewick.”

He turned to see Kit Logan studying him.

“I know Sedgewick,” Logan said again. “If your nephew is being held there, then I think Spooky’s probably there, too. I’ll come with you. I’ll help you find them. We’ll have about an hour’s head start on whatever they have planned for you-they don’t know you’re already in Malibu. They’ll be counting on the fact that it should take you an hour or more to get here from your home in Manhattan Beach.”

“Alex-” Ciara began to protest.

“What if it was your sister in there?” Alex asked.

She was silent.

“Drive us closer to the school,” he said. “Take a right at the next corner.”

As they made the turn, she said, “Do me a favor, hit redial on my phone. I need to tell them I’ll be later than I thought.”

He felt guilty for forcing her to come along, but Laney would be cared for by experts, while God knew what was happening to Chase and the girl, and maybe Gabe Taggert as well. He tried turning the phone on. It wouldn’t work.

“Something’s wrong with it,” he told her. “I think your battery is dead.”

She swore.

“You can borrow mine.”

She didn’t reply. She was concentrating on the shadowy, curving road, slowing as a set of gates came into view. “Is this it?” she asked.

“No,” Kit answered. “Farther up the road. It’s at the back of the canyon. Hurry.”

She shot him a look of annoyance, but speeded up. Alex glanced at his watch. Only ten minutes had passed since Clarissa’s call-it had seemed much longer.

At the last bend before they would be within sight of the school’s gates, Alex said, “Stop here. Don’t go any closer.”

She pulled over. “Alex, think for a minute-you’re making a mistake.”

Alex didn’t answer. He left his phone with her, then got out of the car, even as she continued to protest.

He went around to the door behind the driver and tried to open it. He pounded his fist on the roof of the car. “Unlock it, Ciara!”

He heard the locks go up. He opened the door and helped Kit out. He un-handcuffed him.

Ciara rolled down her window. “Alex, are you nuts?”

He didn’t answer.

“I’m calling for backup,” she said. “This should be handled by a crisis intervention team, and you know it. We need hostage negotiators-”

“Call them, then!” he snapped. “But I’m not waiting around for the cavalry.”

“Do you have a Kevlar vest?” Kit asked. “Cameron is an excellent shot.”

Alex swallowed hard, thinking of the shooting in Long Beach. “Open the trunk, Ciara.”

She hit the release, and it popped open. He reached beneath the bag that held his climbing gear and found his vest. He held it out to Kit.

“No, you should wear it,” Kit said. “He’ll probably go for a head shot with me. Or he might try garroting-that’s how he killed his father. And my dog.”

Alex, hearing nothing but cool deliberation in Kit’s voice, stared at him for a moment, wondering what kind of partner he was taking on now. He put the vest on.

“Bring a flashlight, too. And-do you have a first aid kit?”

Alex found each.

Kit looked down at Alex’s shoes. Before he said anything, Alex said, “I’ll change them. But I can’t do anything about the suit.”

“Keep the coat buttoned if you can-your white shirt will be easy enough to see as it is. Leave your pager here, please.”

“Good point.”

“I’m keeping his girlfriend hostage,” Ciara called out. “You hear me, Mr. Logan? Anything happens to Alex, Ms. Taggert here is going to meet lethal force while resisting arrest.”

“Cut it out, Ciara,” Alex said. Still handcuffed, Meghan Taggert moved her elbow to press the control that lowered her own window-Ciara must have released that lock, too. “I’m not his girlfriend,” Meghan said. “I want to be, but I’m not.”

Kit blushed furiously. He reached out, though, and Alex saw him drop something into the backseat, next to Meghan. The rabbit’s foot.

Ciara rolled the windows back up and locked the doors.

Kit took off walking at a rapid pace, and Alex followed, feeling strange wearing his lightweight hiking boots with his suit. Soon, though, he was glad to have them on-the ground was uneven. Logan had a strange way of pausing a little every few steps. Before long, Alex figured out that there were seven steps between each pause.

They avoided the gate, staying out of view from the school, and continued along the wrought-iron fence that fronted the entrance. When they reached a wooded area, Kit found a stick. He began making a quick sketch in the dirt.

Speaking softly as he drew a rough layout of the school, he said, “Sedgewick has been around for a long time. Some of it was built in the nineteen twenties, but most of the buildings are newer than that.”

“I thought I saw signs of construction work when I was here earlier.”

“You were on the campus?”

“No, just looked through the gates. There’s a sign saying it’s closed for renovations.”

“That’s strange.” He thought for a moment. “I don’t understand why he bought it. Everett always hated Sedgewick. He considered himself above it.”

He pointed to a place near the center of the map.

“Here’s the bell tower-the tallest building. You can see it from here if you look through the trees. It’s in the center of campus. The tower and most of the buildings around it are made of fieldstone. When I was here, enrollment was declining. Only these four buildings were in use.” He pointed out buildings close to the tower. “The others were locked up, but most of the boys broke into them at one time or another.”

“Keeping their skills up.”

“Or learning them. The old crooks train new crooks.”

“Like prison.”

“In many, many ways,” Kit said.

Alex looked up at him.

“Not for me, really…I had been in worse situations. And I would have gone to any school as long as I could come home to my grandmother. Gabe and I were day students. Everett, Cameron, Frederick, and Morgan lived on campus.”

“But their families lived in Malibu, didn’t they? Or close by?”

Kit shrugged. “Their kids weren’t in the way if they lived here, were they?”

Alex stared down at the sketch on the ground.

Kit added some buildings at some distance from the others. “These are the old stables. When it was a better school, they used to give riding lessons. No horse has been in any of those stalls for decades. There’s a way into the property near there, a gate leading out onto an old trail. We’ll go in that way-if you don’t object? There are lots of trees and bushes between there and the campus. That will give us some cover, at least until we get to the baseball field.” He drew a diamond. “That’s out in the open, but if we can get past it, we can start working our way through the buildings while they’re still watching for us to come in through the front gate.”

“Sounds good-any chance that Everett knows of this back way in?”

“Probably. But my guess is that he’ll stick to the central buildings. In school, he never wanted to go into the woods or to hike around. Cameron likes the outdoors, though, so we’ll have to watch out for him.”

“We’re about to lose the last of the light. Can you find your way around this place in the dark?”

“Easily. And before long, if he stays indoors, Everett will probably turn on lights. We’ll get a better idea of where he is. I think everything will depend on locating each of them before they see us.” He paused. “I talked to your uncle. He says you’re good with weapons, and that he taught you to…to move quietly. Moriarty taught me that, too. If we can take Cameron out of the picture, things will be easier. I’ll do what I can to help bring him into your range.”

After a moment, Alex said, “I only have my own weapon with me. And I don’t think I can get Ciara to part with hers.”

“I wouldn’t want her to be without one. She needs to protect Meghan. It’s better that you have the gun. I haven’t been out to the range much since Spooky came to live with me. Moriarty says…” He gave Alex a quick, rueful smile. “Probably, your uncle told him-if you’re going to use a gun for self-defense, you need to practice a lot, so that you can fire from any position, and not just in a booth at a firing range, because bad guys seldom stand around like paper targets.”

“John verbatim,” Alex agreed. “Moriarty taught you self-defense?”

“Yes, I learned a lot from him, and some things from…from my life before he found me.” He looked away.

“From surviving.”

“Yes. And of course, I’m really lucky.”

He moved off again before Alex could ask him how anyone who was raised by a drug addict and a serial killer could consider himself lucky.

He closed the distance between them as the last of the light continued to fade. The moon would not be up for several hours, and here, in this small canyon, the sunlight was lost sooner. Kit slowed a little. Alex felt rather than saw the ground level out as they reached the old trail. When they came to the gate in the fence, instead of opening it, Kit crouched down, then bent close to the ground. When he stood again, he whispered to Alex, “Someone has been here already. The grass has been flattened by the gate.”

“What do you recommend?”

“Let’s listen.”

They waited for what seemed an eternity to Alex before Kit climbed agilely over the gate without opening it. Alex did the same. He moved as quietly as possible, but he couldn’t see three feet in front of him. He nearly bumped into Kit at one point. Kit took hold of Alex’s left hand, put it on his shoulder, and began leading him in that way. Alex adjusted to the seven-step gait as they made their way to the edge of the woods that lay between the stables and the school buildings.

Kit came to a sudden halt. He stood very still. Alex began to feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise and unsnapped his holster. He let go of Kit. A sound came from somewhere up ahead-the snap of twigs.

Someone was moving through the woods.

Almost in the same instant, he heard someone moving behind them as well. Kit heard it, too. He put a hand on Alex’s shoulder, and they both moved into a crouching position.

The man behind them was not far away now, and moving closer. If he was trying to move quietly, he wasn’t succeeding. Suddenly, the one in front began to move quickly. Behind them, a flashlight came on, aimed toward the man in front, although it failed to reveal anyone. “FBI! Hold it right there!” the one with the flashlight shouted.

Alex knew the voice.

Kit took off running, into the trees. The beam of the flashlight followed him.

Alex stood. “Hamilton!”

But Hamilton was lifting his weapon to fire. Alex ran low and toward him. He dived and hit the FBI man’s legs, knocking him over just after the gun went off. Too late, Alex thought miserably.

He had knocked the wind out of Hamilton, who had lost his weapon in the fall. Hamilton was looking up at Alex in complete shock.

“You son of a bitch!” Alex said. “Helping these assholes!”

Hamilton came to his feet. “Brandon, you stupid fuck-you just assaulted a federal agent.”

“I’ve just started assaulting a federal agent,” he said angrily.

In the next moment, bright light came filtering through the trees. Someone had turned on the baseball field lights. Alex flattened himself to the ground.

Hamilton frowned but stayed on his feet as he looked for his gun. Of course, thought Alex, Hamilton had no need to hide. A Sedgewick graduate, he must be Everett Corey’s source of inside information. Any moment now, he’d point out Alex’s location.

Hamilton found the gun and had just bent to retrieve it when a loud shot rang out. He made a grunting sound and fell.

Alex felt confused-why had Hamilton been shot? The answer occurred to him almost immediately: for the same reason Whitfield and Addison had been shot.

Alex listened, and not hearing any other sounds, moved on his belly to where the FBI man lay on his side. A large stain was spreading on Hamilton’s shoulder and back. “Get out of here,” Hamilton whispered.

“Save your breath for the jury,” Alex whispered back. He loosened Hamilton’s tie and pulled his jacket off, causing Hamilton to groan. He tore the shirt away from the wound. There was a small entry wound, a messy exit at the back, but it had missed Hamilton’s heart, lungs, and spine. “You lucked out. If I can stop the bleeding, that is.” He found two gauze pads in his first aid kit and applied pressure to the wounds. Hamilton groaned again.

“Keep quiet if you don’t want your friends to finish what they started.” He found some scissors and tape.

“Friends?” He clenched his teeth, fighting pain. “I’m not with them.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Explosives,” Hamilton gritted out in a low voice. He closed his eyes.

Alex’s hands stilled. “What explosives?”

“Maybe…timing device…” He was mumbling, drifting off.

“Where?” Alex said urgently. “Where?”

“Tower,” Hamilton said, then passed out.

Alex did his best to stanch the bleeding. He heard someone moving through the woods, though, and decided to find better cover. He covered Hamilton’s white shirt with the ruined dark jacket, both to keep him warmer and to make him less of a target. Alex crept as quietly as he could to heavier brush.

A tall figure clad in dark clothing cautiously emerged from the trees, a man carrying a rifle. He stood still, listening.

Cameron Burgess. He had grown taller and more muscular in the years since his father’s death, Alex thought.

A sound came from Alex’s right. Cameron turned quickly toward it, rifle raised. Alex took out his own weapon. But Cameron was staying near the trees, and at this distance, Alex wasn’t going to chance a shot that would probably only reveal his own location.

Another sound, near the same place. Alex found a stone and threw it hard to his left.

Cameron spun on his heel and faced the place where it had landed.

The baseball field lights went out.

Cameron called out, “Everett?”

There was no answer.

Alex felt a rush of relief. Maybe Hamilton’s shot missed Kit after all.

Cameron disappeared into the woods.

Alex followed carefully, doing his best both to keep track of the sounds of Cameron’s movements and to avoid giving away his own position.

He could not proceed with any speed-in the darkness, without Kit to guide him, he was afraid of tripping over roots, or cracking his head on low-lying branches. But he wasn’t going to use the flashlight and risk making a target of himself.

The sounds in front of him stopped. He waited.

Minutes passed. He thought of the explosives. He thought of Chase being held under Everett Corey’s control. He made himself wait.

He heard a rustle of leaves and other sounds and was no longer sure that Cameron was alone. Was Kit nearby? Or had Everett overcome his dislike of the woods?

Suddenly there was a whiplike snap, a startled cry, the sound of what might have been a brief struggle, and then silence. A moment later, he saw light near the place where the sounds had been made. He heard a soft laugh.

He moved cautiously and quietly. He forced away thoughts of Hamilton’s talk of explosives, and of the hostages and what might be happening to them.

One thing at a time, he told himself. Get safely out of these woods.

The light, he was certain, was nothing more than a lure. A flashlight, its beam pointing up through the tree branches. He considered ignoring it, but the sounds he had heard could only mean that someone was in trouble. Before long, he was near enough to see what the flashlight was illuminating: Kit, hanging upside down.

He appeared to have been caught in a snare, but someone had obviously set to work on him after that. His wrists were bound and dangled below his head-his fingertips were only a few inches above the ground. His ankles were bound together with a second length of rope, tied to the black one, which held him suspended. A piece of silver duct tape covered his mouth. His jaw was swollen, his forehead scraped and bleeding. His eyes were closed, but it seemed to Alex that he was holding them closed, almost as if he were meditating-or perhaps the light bothered him.

Alex looked for Cameron, but saw only darkness between the tree trunks. He listened but heard nothing. Kit opened his eyes, and Alex now wondered if he had been trying to adjust them to see something in the darkness. Alex waited for a chance to attract his attention, but he seemed to be looking up into the trees.

A sound came from above him, too late to provide real warning. Cameron dropped down from a tree branch, landing on Alex’s back and shoulders, tackling him hard to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. The sound had given Alex time to tighten his grip on his gun, and he held on to it for dear life. Cameron’s first objective would be to disarm him, he thought-then Alex felt the wire wrap painfully around his throat.

Immediately, he couldn’t breathe. The wire cut into his windpipe. His ears rang, his vision began to dim. He tried to strike and claw at Cameron with his left hand. He tried to kick, to turn, to free his right arm. He tried to think, fighting his rising panic. He could feel Cameron’s hot breath near his right ear. Cameron laughed. Alex switched his gun to his left hand and pulled the trigger.

Cameron give a cry of pain, but there was only an infinitesimal slackening of the garrote. Alex felt consciousness slipping from him. Cameron took Alex’s right earlobe into his teeth and bit as he pulled sharply harder on the wire. One chance, Alex thought. He fired the gun into Cameron’s face.

Cameron fell forward, further pinning Alex. The world went black.