Deadly Powers (Tapped In Book 2) (23 page)

* * *

Lori was well aware of the ill-disguised camera in her room. From being in the security room with all its monitors, when bringing that fat fuck Dolan his food, or having to service him in any number of humiliating ways, she knew that all cameras in the dorms were totally blind once the lights were turned off. Doc had told her to run—that he’d run himself if he were in her shoes. He couldn’t guarantee her safety any longer. From what he’d mentioned, there were armed security teams always on patrol on the outskirts of town, so she’d need to be extra careful—stay out of sight and keep quiet. He told her once back again at the lodge to find someone named Carmen there, who would know what to do to get her to safety. Doc also mentioned, if all else failed, to head into the town of Guffy and find the sheriff there, someone named Corki.

Lori left as soon as she’d turned off the bedside lamp in her room. There wasn’t time to change or pack a duffle bag; the only saving grace—exchanging high heels for flats. Taking advantage of the time she’d spent in the security room, she moved between the buildings in obscurity. She knew where to go to avoid the night-vision cameras. Hearing approaching footfalls, she held up in an alcove and watched as the mortician hurried down the middle of Main Street toward the saloon.

Her heart pounded in her chest—it was now do or die time. She could make it back to her room unnoticed, if she went back now. She looked back the way she’d come and bit her lower lip.
God!
How did I get myself into this mess?
Who was she kidding … she knew exactly how. Desperate, a single mother of a ten-year-old boy, in debt up to her eyeballs because of her ex-husband’s gambling losses, now hers, she wasn’t making it on her measly, corporate administrative assistant’s salary. So she borrowed money from the petty-cash bin; then did it again, and then again. When caught red-handed, her boss was more than willing to work out some kind of
arrangement
. Lori was well aware of the effect she had on men—the good ol’ boy nudges between the gawking assholes in the break room. Going to jail wasn’t ever an option. Thus, an arrangement with her boss was made that seemed to be never-ending, until an opportunity arose that would wipe her slate clean—one last, final, humiliating deed. He promised her.

She heard the saloon’s doors swing open and closed—Colman was back inside. She darted across the street and disappeared into the dark space between the Guns and Ammo shop and the building next door. She slowed, coming to the end of the alleyway. Beyond was an open field that stretched toward distant foothills. She thought back to the bank of monitors and couldn’t recall ever seeing that particular vista in any of them. Was it the right direction to the lodge? Yes, she was fairly certain it was. She thought briefly of the man called Doc Holliday and wondered if she’d ever see him again. Then, she thought of Ben, her boy, and ran for the hills.

I wasn’t just conflicted, I was furious with myself. Had I actually done that, told that poor woman with the alabaster skin and fiery-auburn hair to head out on her own, in the dead of night, and try to escape this treacherous town? What chance could she have against highly trained, roving, special ops teams? I flashed back mentally to the sounds of gunfire, and Butch Cassidy’s bulk hitting the hard saloon floor. Another misjudgment, on my part. And now Lori’s body, I feared, would soon be added to the stacks of other dead bodies at the undertaker’s. Christ! I made a move to stand and go after her, then saw Billy the Kid entering the saloon, heading toward the bar. Out of the corner of my eye I watched him and entered into his mind.

Billy had suspicions about me, but for now, at least, that was as far as they went. He wanted what Troy McAlister—I—could bring to the Order. Jordan entered the bar and joined Billy the Kid’s side. I mentally listened in on their conversation—heard Billy the Kid tell Jordan to go to her room and shoot her in the head. Suddenly, I was very glad I’d told her to run.
Run Lori … run like hell!

I brought my attention back to the Faro table and the men around me. Apparently, I’d missed the last round and let everything ride. I lost and, subsequently, so did all the others—the players sitting around the table, and the ones standing around us and making side bets.

“Nobody wins every hand, that’s why it’s called gambling,” I said, offering up a shrug and a crooked smile.

The game resumed and Jude, playing banker, said, “Place or remove your bets.”

His palm, hidden beneath the table, rested on his gun. Apparently, I’d been winning to the point he was ready to call me out. I wondered how Billy the Kid would react to one of his potential indoctrinates being gunned down by one of his subordinates. Jude glanced at me, then toward his boss, still standing at the bar. It was time for me to cash in my chips.

I stood, and like before, gestured toward the small mountain of chips in front of me. “That’s it for me, all you swindlers and shysters. You can have my chips. Play nice now, boys.” I rose, hearing more than a few groans and grunts spewed, some insults about my manhood, then something about a goat that I didn’t quite catch. I headed for the exit; I needed to check in at the jail.

* * *

“Where the fuck have you been?” Johnny Ringo blared, his white-knuckled fists wrapped tightly around the bars of his cell.

I crinkled my nose—the smell in here was even worse than before. “What, nobody’s come in here … since—”

I cut myself short, seeing his crazed expression. “What? What is it?”

“You mean besides the fact that the shit bucket needs emptying and I haven’t eaten since morning? Oh, and how about the fact they’re going to fucking string me up first thing tomorrow?”

I shook my head: “No, Calamity Jane’s no longer—”

Ringo, on the verge of hysterics, spat, “I know, you shot her between the eyes. Old news and that makes … no … fucking … difference!”

“What do you mean?”

“Jude or Jordan … I don’t know who the hell is which, was in here less than an hour ago. As soon as they get back tomorrow from the silver mine, I’m to be taken to the top of the saloon. Then it’s all over for me!” He made a hanging gesture—one hand clutching an invisible rope above his head, letting his tongue extend outside his mouth.

I shook my head. “You think they’re going to hang you? Without a trial?” Then I remembered Billy’s recent words to Jordan:
Shoot her in the head
. No, he was right. Any thought of a trial actually taking place here was quite ludicrous.

Ringo’s anger quickly dissipated and he just looked beaten. “Come on, man,” he said. “This isn’t a real town … this isn’t Tombstone, and I doubt I was ever supposed to leave this hellhole alive.”

What he was saying was probably true. “Tell me, who are you, really? And how did you get involved with Palmolive?”

Ringo looked at me as if considering how much to share. “Guess it doesn’t matter at this point. I’m Bobby Roper, a Washington lobbyist.”

“For whom, what industry?”

“The gun lobby … NRA.”

“How did you help Palmolive—the Order?”

He shook his head. “Palmolive wasn’t sitting at the table then. All correspondence went through a woman, a Mrs. Gulliver. I never met her in person.”

“What did you do for her?”

Again, Ringo hesitated: “I greased the wheels. I influenced, as much as any lobbyist could, that certain bills were fast-tracked—those dealing with legal procurement, and the use, if necessary, of automatic weapons for private security firms, other than the U.S.’s military personnel.”

“You mean firms such as the Order? Shit, you helped arm the same organization that is now poised to overthrow the U.S. government.”

“I didn’t know the scope of things then. Hey, there was a lot of positive buzz behind the scenes about the Order. It was the answer to government gridlock … the huge U.S. debt, and America quickly becoming China’s bitch amongst the world powers.”

“So what happened? Why are you here?”

“Look, I may look like a dirty guttersnipe now, standing next to a bucket of shit, but I’m Harvard educated, pulled down a solid two mil a year, and lived in a three-story D.C. brownstone. I got greedy—crossed the line. I started to realize what the Order was really about. I complained to too many people—the wrong people. When I got the invitation to bring the family here, I thought it was their way to make amends, maybe hash out my concerns.”

“Tell me about this trip to a silver mine. What’s that all about?” I asked.

“It’s like … um … a field trip. Everyone’s been talking about it ever since yesterday. Rumor has it Billy the Kid is going to assemble the lot of us inside the mine to announce key new positions within the Order. It’s what everyone is fucking here for. It’s the big reveal.”

More like a one-way ticket to an early grave, I thought. But, there again, not everyone here was to be killed—so something didn’t add up. I said, “You sure everyone’s to be included in the mine trip?”

“Yeah. Well, it’s supposedly a small space. There’ll be two groups, one before the other.”

“Let me guess, your invitation was for the first group.”

Ringo nodded, as realization reached his face. “Yeah … until I was arrested and thrown in here. You’re thinking the early group will be killed in an accident or something … maybe a cave-in?”

I nodded. That was exactly what I was thinking.

“Then why hang me? Why not simply include me in the first group to the mine? Be done with me right there.”

“My guess, provide an example to those left alive—the ones chosen to be indoctrinated into the Order. Another opportunity for Palmolive to show what disloyalty looks like.”

“So I’m fucked either way?”

I didn’t answer him, instead musing that I hadn’t received an invitation to the mine for either time. I reached into my pocket and came out with the master key to both jail cells. Ringo instinctively took a step back while I unlocked the door, swinging its metal bars open. Ringo’s eyes flashed toward the jailhouse door behind me.

“You don’t have to make a run for it, at least not from me. I’m letting you go, but with one condition.”

“What? Anything! Just ask. I’ll be in your debt—”

I cut him off, “Shut up and listen to me. Lori, the one bringing you your food—”

“You mean June?”

“Just listen to me. June, as you call her, is on the run. They were going to kill her. She’s heading for the lodge, then to the sheriff in Guffy.”

“There are patrols. Palmolive’s armed security is out there.”

“That’s right. She chose to take a chance, make a run for it rather than sit around and wait for Jordan or Jude to shoot her here. I’m giving you the same opportunity. But I want your word you’ll help the girl if you see her. Help her get back to her son.” I weighed Ringo’s thoughts carefully. Even the slightest indication of deceit and I was prepared to shoot him where he stood.

“I promise. She seemed okay. And, by the way, I’d have helped her without your fucking ultimatum,” he said angrily.

He was telling the truth. “I believe you. If you find her, you’ll both need to stay out of sight … long term. The Order isn’t going to forgive and forget.”

“I’ve got some relatives in Denver …”

I stepped outside the entrance into the street and looked in both directions. “It’s clear. Best you head on out. Stay in the shadows, close to the buildings.”

Without another word, Ringo sped away from the jail.

Out of breath and scared, Lori ran to the tree line and entered a forest of dense, tall evergreens. For the tenth time she chided herself for her hasty decision not to change out of her dress.
Damn!
How much time could it take to slip on a pair of jeans and grab a sweatshirt? A couple of minutes?
Now, even with her arms wrapped tightly around her, her shivering became uncontrollable. She knew that maintaining a quick pace would keep her from freezing her ass off. She cupped her fingers to her mouth and breathed hard to warm them. As her steamy breath quickly dissipated in the chill, her fingers still felt as if they were going numb.

Thirty minutes earlier, she’d made it safely across the open grassy expanse, between the rear of town and the lower foothills. She’d always been a fast runner—in high school she’d preferred sports, such as track and field, to other activities like cheerleading. Not that she’d been pretty enough for that then, anyway. She thought back to those times, when life was so much simpler. Boys hadn’t known what to make of her then—with freckles and flaming red hair and rather shapeless—a thin, boyish body better suited for unisex gym shorts than short cheerleading outfits. That was until things started to change her mid-senior year. Her flaming red hair mellowed to a more attractive auburn, and her boyish body gave way to more feminine curves. She well fit the epitome of the term
late bloomer
. From then on, like now, men pursued her in one way or another.

Lori stumbled over a low tree stump, stifled a scream, and caught herself just in time from falling to the ground. Before becoming engulfed in the forest’s thick growth, she was able to keep her bearings by sighting on Pikes Peak, off in the far distance. She knew it was the highest summit of the Colorado Mountains around her and roughly in the direction of the lodge. But the further into the trees she went, the taller and denser the trees became. She was afraid she’d come so far off course that she’d bypassed the lodge entirely. Her heart pounded in her chest and her lungs burned to the extent she feared she’d keel over from a heart attack.
I’m not remotely in shape for this kind of workout.
Then, thinking of her son and determined to see him again, hold him in her arms, she persevered on.

Seeing a small clearing up ahead, Lori allowed herself to slow down to a fast walk. From there, she hoped to reestablish her sightline. She stepped into the open glen and found herself standing in a bright swath of silver moonlight. Looking toward the horizon, she glimpsed Pikes Peak, off in the distance, left of where she’d thought. She realized she needed to substantially veer left to get back on course.
Shit, getting lost in this wilderness is not an option.
She picked up her pace, hoping and praying the tree growth would become less dense, helping her to not lose sight of the ridgeline completely.