Nine

54

Malibu, California

Thursday, May 22, 9:18 P.M.

At the same time Alex heard the shot, the door to one of the tower sheds opened, and Kit Logan stepped out onto a lower platform. He aimed the rifle at Everett’s head.

“Drop the gun, Everett. Then get to work on disarming your contraption.”

“Disarm it? I’m afraid that’s not possible. As for the gun-”

He raised it toward Kit and fired as he hit the light switch, plunging them into darkness. Kit turned on a flashlight and ran down the stairs, but Everett had already slammed the door shut. Just as Kit reached it, they heard the bar fall into place, then the lock snap.

Kit pounded the door in frustration.

“So long, Kit!” Everett called through the door. “Sorry I couldn’t stick around for the brief but sweet reunion.”

Kit flattened his hand against the door. “Meghan…” Alex heard him say.

Kit moved back, and used the flashlight to find the light switch.

“Kit?” Alex said. “Were you hit?”

“He missed,” he said in an unsteady voice.

“Thank God you didn’t fire.”

“And have a ricochet send us all to kingdom come? When he fired at me, I was sure we were going to end up in bits and pieces.” He looked up. “Spooky? Are you and Chase okay?”

“We’re okay. I did good, didn’t I, Kit?”

He took a deep breath and seemed to refocus his attention. “You were wonderful. He never guessed.”

Kit ran to the winch and used it to slowly lower Alex closer to the ground.

“Well,” Spooky admitted, “I called your name. I’m sorry. I was scared.”

“That’s okay. We’ll figure out a way to get you down soon,” Kit said, already hurrying away from the winch, slinging the rifle onto his back. “First I have to help Alex.”

“Kit, wait!” Alex yelled.

Kit had just stepped onto the sandbags and halted, looking at Alex in puzzlement. “I watched him twice,” he said. “Besides, I’m good at this sort of thing.”

He moved calmly until he reached the middle of the ring. There, he hesitated, as if undecided.

Alex found himself clenching his teeth.

Kit pulled the tortoise out of his pocket.

“Oh God-” Alex groaned. He bit back any further protest against having their fates decided by a stone tortoise. He saw Kit look up into the darkness above them, his lips moving silently, as if in prayer.

He looked back down, and with a look of determination, took another step.

Nothing happened.

They both exhaled loudly. Kit seemed more confident then, and within a few steps had reached Alex.

Ignoring the trickle of blood from the wound on his back that now dripped down his arms and from his fingertips, Alex called out, “Spooky? Is there a window in that room, or anywhere above it?”

“Yes. It’s kind of long and skinny.”

“Could Kit fit through it?”

“I think so.”

“Try to break it out.”

Kit was cutting him loose now, supporting his weight in much the same way he had supported Kit’s in the woods. The relief to Alex was immediate-although there was still strain on his ankles, they were no longer bearing all his weight.

“I’m sorry I had to let him do this to you,” Kit said, “but-”

“No, it was smart. I understand.”

He knew that Kit didn’t want to reveal his presence until he had some idea of what had become of Meghan. Neither of them said what Alex knew they both feared-that the gunshot they had all heard was Meghan’s execution.

Just as Kit lowered him to the concrete, they heard a chime.

“Shit,” Alex said.