Fight or Flight (18 page)

“Did you call them?”

He shook his head. “When could I have without you knowing?”

“You went to the bathroom in the plane and in the terminal.”

“So did you.”

She laughed. “That’s not the point. The point is we were away from each other then and you could have called them to say we were coming.”

“I could have, yes. But that would risk alerting someone on the inside of our location. Someone we don’t want to alert.”

“You said we’d get in with no problem,” she accused. He shrugged. “You think the mole will stop us.”

“Maybe. Depending on who it is, they could order the rest of security to stop us, without Ben and Jeanne even knowing.”

“Great.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll handle it. Then once we’re there, everything will be fine.”

Regan wished he hadn’t said that. Someone always said it just before everything went FUBAR.

Tom had been right. The key ring he found did have a key for the lock on the barn. But since it was already dark and they hadn’t found any flashlights in the house—Kelsey was totally going to ream Tyler out for leaving them without flashlights—she convinced him and Van to wait until morning to explore.

They slept late the next day, partly because they could, and partly because she and Tom and been awake until three, having sex. Kind of having sex. They didn’t have any condoms and she wasn’t going to risk getting pregnant now. Not only because of what a screw-up that would be, but because she didn’t want to repeat her mother’s history and negate everything she’d sacrificed for Kelsey.

Still, you didn’t need to have sex to have sex.

They were all in much better moods by the time they traipsed out to the barn. Kelsey wondered what had cheered Van up so much, but decided she didn’t want to know.

Once the barn doors were unlocked they opened wide, plenty far enough to let in tons of sunshine and let out the car, if it had been necessary to drive it. Which it wasn’t.

Tom and Van made beelines for the vehicle, carefully removing the tarp and unlocking the door. Kelsey wasn’t really interested, so she let Tom be macho about engine size and performance and Van get all squealy about seats and dials. She moved deeper into the barn and started exploring the stuff stored there.

She was wondering if the white things on the back of a workbench were bones, pieces of antlers, or very old wood when she heard the whirr of the car’s starter behind her.

She whirled. “Tom!”

“Don’t worry!” He stuck his head out the window, his expression rapturous. “I’m just putting the top down.”

“I’m surprised the battery still has a charge,” Kelsey said. Tom was too engrossed in the instruments to respond.

Once the top was all the way back Van stuck her arms in the air and “woo hooed” a few times. “Can you imagine taking this baby on the road?” She clicked on the radio and tried to tune it, but all she got was static.

Kelsey shook her head and walked along the back wall, identifying car parts and wondering if they were all for the Corvette or if Tyler liked working on cars in general. Some of this stuff looked too modern.

Her toe stubbed against something and she looked down. There was something metal on the floor. She kicked at it, but it didn’t move. That was weird. The floor was dirt. What was buried here?

She crouched and brushed away some leaves and dried grass that must have blown in under the door, and stared at what she’d uncovered.

“Guys! Look at this!”

“What?” Tom craned his neck to see over the side of the car.

“Come here.” Kelsey pried the iron ring away from the dirt and lifted it. It was attached to another iron piece she could only see the top of. “You know what this is?”

“What?” Van repeated, looking over her shoulder. “Another rusty piece of metal? Big deal.”

“It’s not rusty.” She pulled, but knew right away she wouldn’t be strong enough. She shifted to one side and motioned to Tom. “Help me.”

He braced his feet and stuck two fingers into the ring, then pulled hard. A crack appeared in the dirt, like three sides of a square. Kelsey brushed away more leaves and saw where the back of the trap door had to be. Tom shifted position to stand behind the hinges and heaved.

A wooden trap door slowly rotated open, exposing a large opening in the floor of the barn. Tom released it and it fell back onto the floor, showering their feet and jeans with dirt.

“Awesome,” breathed Van. “Let’s go down.”

“Wait.” Kelsey held her away from the opening. “We have no idea how deep it is, whether there’s a ladder to get out, or what’s in there. We need light.” She stood and went back to the tool shelves, where there was a spotlight-sized flash. She worried it wouldn’t work, but when she flipped the switch, it shone brightly.

“Damned good battery,” Van said. “Let’s go.”

They lay flat around the opening and stuck their heads into it. Kelsey shone the light around, first at the floor, then the sides. The floor was about eight feet down, the room probably the same size square. More of a chamber than a room. Off to one side, flat on the floor, was a wooden ladder. There didn’t seem to be anything else in there, but they couldn’t see all of the walls from where they lay.

“Look.” Tom fingered a couple of grooves worn into the wood forming the frame of the opening. “I bet this is where the ladder rests. When they come up they drop it back down inside.”

“I’m goin’ in.” Van swung her legs around and into the hole, then turned to balance on her stomach, grabbed the side, and dropped to the floor. “Give me the flashlight!” she called up. Kelsey held it over her friend’s hands and let it go. Van caught it deftly and shone it around. “Coooool,” she breathed. “You guys have got to see this.”

Kelsey used the same move Van had and landed lightly on the floor. “Wait!” she called up to Tom. “Let me make sure the ladder works before you come down, or we’ll be trapped down here.” She raised the wooden ladder and braced it against the opening. It extended a mere three inches above the lip, but when she tested the rungs, they seemed solid. “Okay.”

Tom ignored the ladder and swung down beside them.

Van ran the light over the walls. “Look!”

Tom let out a whistle Kelsey would have echoed if she’d known how. The bottom halves of the walls, the parts they could see from up top, were smooth dirt peppered with stones. But above the halfway point they were much more.

Racks and racks of weapons, at least a dozen guns, were sealed in clear plastic cases to protect them from the dirt. Goggles, sensors, trackers, and tons of gadgets Kelsey had never seen before lay on neighboring shelves. A doorless cabinet was full of canned foods. She pulled down a small box from next to a row of beans and tuna and opened it. Silverware, two can openers and a stack of napkins.

“It’s a panic room,” she said. “An old-fashioned one. But look.” She showed them the box. “Enough food to last a good long while.”

“And water.” Van pointed up at the corner behind Kelsey. A dozen gallon jugs hung from the ceiling.

Kelsey breathed the crisp, clean air smelling only of fresh earth and not of the musty staleness she would have expected. “Why does it feel like we’re outside?” she wondered. Her friends looked at her like she was insane.

“We’re in a box, Kels. Underground.”

“I know, Van. I mean, the air is fresh.” She took the flashlight from Van and aimed it at the upper corners. The rear corners on the left and right both looked darker than the rest of the walls. She moved closer, and discovered a tube embedded in the spot where two walls and ceiling met. “Circulation.”

“So no one would suffocate,” Tom figured. “And maybe to keep the other stuff from getting too damp or whatever?”

“Why didn’t Tyler tell us about this?” she wondered. “It’s the perfect place if someone finds us.”

“Because of the guns.” Tom was still studying them. “He probably thought it was a bad idea to let us know there were guns here.”

“I know how to handle a gun,” Kelsey protested.

“You do. But we don’t. My family doesn’t hunt or anything. And they could easily be turned against us.”

He was right. But it didn’t stop her from selecting a small pistol and a box of ammo before she went back up.

The rain pounding on the roof of the car was so loud Regan and Tyler couldn’t talk. So much for going in daylight—the storm clouds and sheets of water reduced visibility to “don’t be stupid enough to drive” levels.

They were going anyway. Regan didn’t think Tyler even considered suggesting otherwise. He knew she wouldn’t bother to argue; she’d just leave him behind.

Not that she knew where they were going.

Regan was glad for the noisy rain, at least for now. The upcoming confrontation and all the possible scenarios tied her stomach in knots until she had to put a halt to it, breathe deeply, and think about something totally innocuous. The difficulty of finding a topic like that distracted her enough to ease the tension until she realized it had eased, and the whole cycle started up again.

After far too long, yet oddly way too soon, Tyler pulled the car over and turned off the engine. The trees overhead muted the rain somewhat.

“We’re a mile away from the access road.” He half turned and stretched his arm across the gap between the seats. “There’s no security posted at the end of the road, but there is a trip sensor so they’ll know we’re coming and will have visual of both sides of the car.”

“I know this, Tyler. We went over the plan and layout last night.”

“I’m repeating it anyway. Protocol.”

Again, arguing was pointless, so she took up the recital from there.

“The access road ends at the main gate, where there’s a guard house with one guard. He’s likely to be one of your colleagues and should let you by fine. But—”

“Yeah, but.” He looked grim. “There’s a chance they’re not happy I went off the grid. Or they might have concerns about why I did. So we might have difficulty getting through. Follow my lead.”

“Inside the main gate we’ve got another quarter mile of driveway to another gate, where they’ll search the car and us.”

“Whatever happens, follow my lead,” Tyler repeated. “I know these people and how to handle them.”

“Let’s go. I’m tired of wasting time.”

“Regan.” He waited until she met his eyes. “Follow my lead.”

She sighed. “Fine. As long as it seems to be working.”

His jaw flexed. “Fine.”

“And Tyler?” She put her hand on his arm before he started the ignition. “Thank you. For everything so far. No matter what happens, I do appreciate your help.”

He scowled. “You sound like you expect me to betray you.”

She dropped her hand and looked away so he wouldn’t see the truth of her feelings for him, which by now were the opposite of what he thought. “I have no expectations. I’m keeping open to all possibilities.”

“Great,” he grumbled as he started the ignition. “Perfect.”

He pulled back onto the main road behind a tractor-trailer that seemed out of place way out here, then made a left turn onto a road she could barely see until the nose of the car entered it. She imagined this was beautiful countryside when it was visible. She had an impression of mountains, evergreens, and a variety of oaks. It was also likely inhospitable to someone on the run, on foot. Something she hoped to avoid.

Regan leaned toward the center of the car, unsure where the cameras would be mounted. She hoped they’d been mounted above the top of the vehicle so they’d be harder to locate and sabotage, and not at window level, which would give viewers a clearer shot at her face. She didn’t know why, but she wanted to have the element of surprise about her presence. Nothing else was in her favor.

A couple of minutes after turning onto the road, the white-sided, black-roofed guard shack came into view. It looked the same as the guard house of any resort or time-share community, and too innocuous for its purpose. A red-striped gate blocked the road.

Tyler slowed the vehicle as they approached, his ID out and friendly greeting already in place. Then, suddenly, he slammed on the brakes and lost the smile.

The guard came out of the shack and stood in front of them, gun drawn and aimed directly at the car.

***

If Van had ever stopped fretting about her mother’s infuriating tendency toward the dramatic, and if Tom hadn’t been staring morosely at the keys on the table for three hours, Kelsey never would have given in.

She also blamed exhaustion, worry, boredom, and the infuriating status of not knowing anything happening anywhere.

Tom started with a reasonable suggestion in a reasonable tone. “I can drive to town and get a paper, so we can at least see if anything’s happening. I can probably do it without being seen. It’ll take me an hour and if our parents have been talking to the media, we’ll know.”

Reasonable was easy to shoot down, but Van didn’t give her a chance. She pounced on the idea.

“I can go with him and call my folks! Then they’ll know everything’s fine.”

“What would you tell them about missing class, if they know?”

“I’ve been sick all week!” She gave a fake cough. “You know I had that terrible cold.”

“Yeah, weeks ago. What if Mom and Tyler get back before you do? They’d be furious.”

“They won’t,” Tom assured her, his attitude perking up now that she hadn’t said a flat-out no. He laid his hand over hers. “There’s no way they could get there and back so soon, even if they didn’t see your grandparents. Tyler told me how far they are from the airport and stuff. They won’t be here until tomorrow.”

“Someone will recognize the car. There can’t be any others like it out there.”

“They might, but they won’t think anything of it. None of them know what Tyler does or who we are.”

“C’mon, Kelsey, it’ll be fun. We can get out of this house and cure ourselves of the godawful monotony of this place. And then we’ll be in better moods and won’t fight.” Van folded her hands under her chin. “Please, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease let’s do this.”

Kelsey looked out the window toward the barn. All of her other arguments stalled in her brain. She knew Tom could get the car out of the barn and drive it without damage. She knew they’d be better off if Van could call her parents, and if they had some outside information. And the chances of any of them getting caught by someone who knew what was going on were very slim. If their enemy knew about this place, something would have happened by now.

“All right,” she finally said. Van cheered and Tom beamed, and they rushed around getting their things. Kelsey stayed where she was until Van skidded to a stop at the front door.

“You’re not coming?”

Kelsey shook her head. “It’s a two-seater. I can’t go with Tom because I can’t call your folks. If anyone is watching the town because they know this house is somewhere around here but not exactly where, they’ll be looking for me. So I’m safer actually being here.” She stood and walked over to them, realizing she couldn’t just let them go. They didn’t have the training she did.

“Watch cars to be sure you’re not followed, especially coming back. They might trade off two or more vehicles so it looks like different people are behind you. Try not to be seen together outside of the car. Keep the top up in town, don’t go anywhere except to get the paper, and come right back.” For a second she wished she was the one going, but strengthened her resolve and hugged them both. “Be careful.”

Tom held her tight and kissed the top of her head. “You, too. Here.” He twisted the key to the barn off the ring and handed it to her. “Get to the trap room if you get scared about anything.”

“I’m fine. I’m better equipped for this than you are.” She followed them outside to open the barn and watched while Tom expertly maneuvered the little car onto the gravel drive, then locked the barn before watching them go slowly up the driveway. She knew the slow speed was for her benefit and he’d open her up on the main road. She’d have done the same.

She stood on the porch for a while, the car getting smaller and smaller until she could only see it from its movement rather than its shape. Birds twittered, and a confused cicada buzzed once. Those were reassuring sounds, because they meant no one was hanging around out here who shouldn’t be.

But even more reassuring was the weight of the gun in the small of her back, and that wasn’t something she’d ever thought she’d say.

***

“So much for plan A,” Regan said wryly, watching the guard step slowly toward them, his aggressive posture muted a bit by the black slicker he wore over his head and body. “Take the lead, boss.”

“Shush.” He shoved the car into park and slowly opened his door, keeping his hands up so the guard could see them. He held his ID up between two fingers. Water poured into the car and plastered Tyler’s longish hair and loose oxford shirt to his body. He kept one foot in the car and stayed in the crook of the door.

“That you, Dyson?”

Regan couldn’t hear what the guard shouted. He didn’t change his stance, though, and her heart rate slowly increased. She schooled her breathing, trying to stay focused and ready to act. Adrenaline seemed to seep through her body.

“It’s me, Tyler Sloane.”

More shouting. The guard stopped about ten feet away, gun aimed at Tyler but his eyes on the windshield like he was trying to see who else was inside the car. Regan held still, letting the rain on the window obscure her features.

“Dyson, I need to see the Harrisons. Let me through.”

Feeling helpless only hearing one side of the conversation, Regan rolled down her window. Of course, a gust of wind blew water through the three-inch gap. So she was wet—at least she could hear.

“I’ve got orders to detain you, Sloane!”

“For what?”

“Not my job to know.”

“Who gave the order?”

“McCormick.”

Regan knew McCormick was head of security here. Tyler’s boss, though he’d said he reported directly to Ben Harrison while in Ohio. So was McCormick the leak? Or was Ben Harrison the bad guy?

Tyler kept his body loose and unthreatening while he pressed Dyson for information. Regan knew it was a mask, knew how fast he could move if attacked, but that wasn’t faster than a bullet. She tried to think rationally, to hold down the growing need to slam her foot on the accelerator and get past Dyson.

Being detained didn’t bode well for anything. They could turn around and regroup, but it wouldn’t do them any good. Harrison’s team would just come after them. They’d be back on the defensive, exactly where she didn’t want to be.

She reached for her door handle. Her presence might alter things, push through this standoff.

“Stay in the car.”

Tyler’s voice was low but reached her anyway, his urgency clear. Dyson edged closer, coming around the front of the car toward Tyler, who still stood casual and unthreatening behind his door. Regan squinted through the rain, trying to see if anyone was approaching from a different direction, but if they were, they were well hidden by the sheets of gray. She carefully opened the glove compartment and lifted the top tray, beneath which Tyler had stashed two pistols. She didn’t know where he’d gotten them, but relaxed as soon as the cold grip was in her hand. She shifted her weight away from the driver’s side and pulled her legs up so she could jump into the other seat and take off with the car, if necessary.

It wasn’t.

Dyson reached for Tyler’s upraised left hand. Tyler jerked it down and around, latching on to Dyson’s forearm and pulling him off balance as he shoved the door forward. Dyson’s forehead hit the edge of the door and he fell back onto the ground. Tyler grabbed his gun as he did, then jumped into the car and slammed the door. The car was moving before Dyson had rolled to his knees, never mind gotten to his feet. A moment later, they smashed through the wooden gate.

“I think they’re gonna know we’re here now,” Regan quipped.

“I think they already did.”

Tyler raced the car about halfway up the quarter mile between the first gate and the second. Then he whipped it around to a skidding stop, blocking the road, and turned it off.

“Forget Plan A completely,” he said, pulling the other gun out of the glove compartment, hesitating a second when he realized Regan already had one. “We need to be armed, we need to be ready, and we’re probably going to have to fight.”

Regan checked her clip and chamber and nodded.

He did the check routine of both guns in his hands. “There’s a curve up ahead, then a straight shot to the gate. If we approach by road, car or not, they’ll plow us down.”

“So we’re going through the woods.”

“Yep.” He grabbed her chin and kissed her hard. “Ready?”

If I die, there’s no one to protect Kelsey.

So don’t die then, idiot.

“Ready.”

They shot out opposite sides of the car and split the road, Tyler to one side, Regan to the other, without having planned it. For a second she panicked, but kept going. Hesitation was fatal. Then she decided it was better this way. Splitting up gave them two targets, potential confusion, and double the opportunity to get through.

Regan ran easily through the mature forest bordering the drive. The ground, shadowed by the tall, old trees, was clear of small plants and debris, and the trunks were spaced far enough apart so she could move at near-top speed. It also meant tripwires and other alerting devices or traps were more difficult to hide. She spotted and avoided two motion sensors but didn’t know how many more she’d set off. Not that it mattered. They knew they were coming.

As she ran, a calm she’d never felt before filled her. Finally, she was doing something real. She wasn’t a victim, or trying to prevent becoming one. She was going to put a stop to whatever was happening. She was going to get answers. And—

The epiphany blasted through her, a jolt to her system. Euphoria. She was going to get a life. It faded quickly—after all, she didn’t have it yet—but it left behind a conviction and sense of purpose that made her positive everything was going to work out.

A few minutes later she slowed. Several dark shapes moved around another white-painted guard enclosure, this one much less friendly looking. Instead of a bar gate, ten-foot-tall chain link topped with barbed wire blocked the entrance. Regan crouched just inside the tree line and studied the group. Five figures. In the rain she couldn’t tell if they were men or women. She also couldn’t see how they were armed, though she knew they had to be.