The Sword of God - John Milton #5 (John Milton Thrillers) (9 page)

“What do you mean, what do I mean? I’m coming, too.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am.”

Milton stared squarely at her. “I don’t need you to come with me, Mallory.”

“I have to come.”

“No, you don’t. You’ll slow me down, and the slower I am in getting up to your brother, the slower I’ll be in bringing him back to you.”

“I’m sorry. It’s not negotiable.”

“Well, that’s lucky, because I’m not negotiating.”

“Then I’ll just follow you. What are you going to do about that?”

“I’ll tie you to a tree.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. I’m not going to put myself in front of four armed men while I look after a child at the same time.”

“I am
not
a child,” she said indignantly.

“You are, and you’re staying here.”

She pouted at him, unbowed.

“Have you thought about this, Mallory? There are no hotels between here and wherever they are. There won’t be any warm beds and, tasty though it was, there will be no bacon and eggs on the table. I’m going to travel quickly, eat light, and what little sleep I get is going to be on the ground. And,” he said, looking up at the sky, “I don’t think it’s going to stay dry for very long.”

“I’ve slept on the ground before, Mr. Milton. I told you: my father used to take me and Arty out when we were little.”

“It’s not really the same thing.”

“I’ve shot whitetail deer before.”

“This isn’t going to be like shooting deer, Mallory.”

She refused to give up. “You’ve never met my brother. You don’t know what he looks like.”

“You can describe him to me.”

“He doesn’t know you, though. I told you, he’s simple. He gets frightened easily, especially when he doesn’t know someone. And if things don’t go the way you think they will, he’ll run. If he sees me, he won’t. If I tell him to come back with us, he will.”

Milton looked at her hard face and the determined frown that was visible below the bottom of her beanie and sighed. It would probably be easier to concede. There was some truth in what she was saying, too, he supposed. It probably would be useful to have her around if the boy got spooked. He would just have to make sure she knew to stay a safe distance behind him if it did get difficult. He wouldn’t be swayed on that much, at least. He had made mistakes before and people had paid the price for them. He had sworn to himself that there would never be a repeat.

“Fine,” he said. “You can come. But there are some rules and these are not open to debate. First, you do as I say at all times. I don’t want any lip. Second, you stay with me. Third, if we find them, you let me handle getting your brother. Are those all clear?”

“Crystal.”

“What equipment do you have?”

“Sleeping bag in the trunk.”

“Anything else? Ground sheet? Compass? Water filter? Flashlight? First-aid kit?”

She frowned. “Not with me. Just the bag.”

Milton sighed, doubting himself afresh.

“Is there an outdoor store in town?”

“Morrisons.” She reached down and started the engine. “Shall we go there now?”

“Why not.” Milton sighed, settling back into the seat and closing his eyes.

THE STORE was well stocked with everything they would need. Milton was already equipped, but he took the chance to replace some of his older gear and replenish his supplies. They took a shopping cart and worked through the aisles. Milton picked out a backpack and had Mallory try it on to make sure it fitted her comfortably. He dropped the things he thought they might need into the cart: water filter and purification tablets; a map and a compass; a headlamp; two fresh boxes of matches and a backup fire starter; a simple first-aid kit; sunscreen and insect repellent. Mallory already had decent boots that he thought would be up to the job, and she had a fleece jacket that looked like it would be warm enough. He picked out polypropylene underwear, a hooded rain jacket and pants, and a pair of Gore-Tex gloves.

He only had a one-man tent with him, but she was small, and he thought that there would be enough room for both of them. Her sleeping bag was old and primitive, so he bought a new one with a foam pad so that she would be as comfortable as possible.

He wheeled the cart to the checkout and waited as the clerk rang it all up. It cost three hundred dollars. He took out his money roll and counted it out. He had a thousand left. That ought to be enough to get him across the country if he was careful.

“I’ll pay for it,” Mallory said.

He doubted that she had the cash and, if she did, he guessed that she would need it more than he would. “Don’t worry. We can settle up when we get your brother back.”

Milton was arranging the gear in Mallory’s new pack when he noticed that the girl had walked away from him and had approached the woman who had just entered the store. He watched as the newcomer turned to her, the concentrated expression that Mallory had worn as she scouted the shelves changing into a smile that Milton thought bore a little awkwardness, too.

He hoisted the pack onto his shoulder and walked over to them.

“Ready?” he asked her. “We should get started.”

“Mr. Milton,” Mallory said, “this is Special Agent Flowers.”

The woman turned to him and extended a hand. “Ellie Flowers.”

She looked familiar.

“I’ve seen you in town, haven’t I?”

“In the bar last night.”

He remembered: she had been talking to Mallory. “Sorry about that,” he said.

“What’s your name?”

“John Milton.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Milton.”

“Likewise.”

“Mallory says you’re going to go up into the woods with her.”

“That’s right. She said the FBI wouldn’t.”

“My partner didn’t want to, no. There’s just the two of us and he’s not convinced that they’re out there.”

“But you are?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where’s your partner now?”

“Probably halfway back to Detroit by now.”

“And you’re staying here?”

“No,” she said. “I’m going into the woods.”

Milton fought the urge to let out a long, impatient sigh. “You know what you’re doing?”

“I’ve hiked before. Camped a few times when I was younger.”

“You got equipment?” He looked down at her feet, shod in plain leather flats.

She followed his gaze. “I’m not an idiot,” she said indignantly.

“I was just saying—”

“Well, don’t. I’m a federal agent. I know what I’m doing.”

He let it ride.

He had riled her up. “What’s your involvement in this, anyway?”

“Mallory asked me to go up north and look for her brother. I said that I would help.”

“I don’t know about that. This is a federal matter. I don’t need your help, and I’m not sure it’s even appropriate, especially after what you did last night.”

Milton snapped, “After what I did? You saw what happened just like everyone else. They went after me.”

She shrugged. “You have a temper. If Mallory’s right and those boys are up there, what’s to say you wouldn’t just make things worse?”

Milton started to snap back a retort, but caught himself, took a deep in-and-out breath, and managed a tight smile. “All right, then. Fair enough. Good luck.”

Mallory turned to him. “What do you mean?”

“Like she says, she’s a federal agent. You don’t need me. I’ll see you around. I’ve packed your gear for you. You’ve got everything you need.”

The girl’s face fell. “No. I want you to come.”

“I don’t think so.”

He started to leave, but the girl reached out and grabbed him by the wrist.

“Please,” she said. Still holding onto him, she turned back to Ellie. “Please, let’s all just relax and start over, okay? Agent Flowers, Mr. Milton is an experienced outdoorsman. You said to me yourself last night that’s not what you’re good at. Doesn’t it make more sense for him to come with us up there?”

“This is a federal—”

“Yes,” the girl said, interrupting her, “the thing with the men is a federal matter. But Mr. Milton is going to help me get my brother back. That’s a family thing. Totally different.”

The woman started to retort but stopped herself.

“And, Mr. Milton, if they are up there, isn’t it better that the FBI is involved?”

Milton drew another breath. He had already entertained doubts that this was a foolish idea, that agreeing to help the girl was pandering to his ego as much as thinking it was the right thing to do, but he relented. Grandiosity was not something that a drunk could afford. Humility was better. Healthier.

“I don’t take orders from anyone except myself,” he said. “And I’m not a tour guide.”

“I don’t need you to guide me, Milton.”

Humility was better. But not easy.

He picked up Mallory’s pack again and slung it across his shoulder. “Get the stuff you’re going to need and meet us outside. We’ve only got eight hours of daylight left before it starts to get dark. I want to get as far north as we can by the time we have to stop.”

SPECIAL AGENT Flowers had rented a Cadillac Escalade from the place in town, and Milton quickly decided that it made more sense for them to travel the short distance to the place where they would start to hike in that rather than in Mallory’s tired old Pontiac. He opened the rear door and found the button to fold down the third-row seats, the motors humming quietly as they doubled over into the floor. He transferred his gear into the SUV, laying his rifle down in the space between the pack and the back of the second-row seats, and then collected Mallory’s pack and slotted that alongside. Flowers was struggling with her own pack, catching the strap on the door as it closed behind her, and he crossed the sidewalk towards her with his hand out to help.

“I got it,” she said tetchily.

She freed the strap and hauled the pack to the back of the Cadillac. Milton watched her as she muscled the bag across a wide puddle. She was medium height and elfin, with brown shoulder-length hair and exquisitely delicate bones in her face. Her eyes were grey, and her lips, which were full, were set in a severe expression that matched her frown. She had bought more appropriate clothes in the store and had changed into them in the changing rooms out back. She had transferred her suit and work shoes into the car already. The waterproof jacket and leggings and the walking boots were much more suited to the terrain, although Milton was sure that her feet would blister as she broke the firm leather in. Knowing that, and not wanting her to slow them down, he had returned to the counter and bought zinc oxide tape, antibacterial ointment and a sterilised needle.

“This isn’t what I had in mind,” Milton said to Mallory when Flowers was out of earshot.

“Give her a break,” she said. “It makes most sense for us to go together, right?”

“We’ll see.”

The rear door slammed, and Flowers came around and opened the driver’s door.

“Ready?” she said.

Milton opened the rear door for Mallory and followed her inside.

MILTON OPENED out the map that he had bought in the store and spread it across his knees. Ellie turned around in her seat, and Mallory leaned in closer.

“Where did your brother say they were hiding?” he asked her.

She studied the map, gaining her bearings, and then pointed to the Lake of the Clouds, right up on the southern shore of Lake Superior. She pointed to a spot on the southern shore.

“Where?” Milton said. “I don’t see anything.”

“It’s not marked on the map,” she said.

“What isn’t?” Ellie said.

“There’s an old copper mine up there. It’s been abandoned for years. That’s where they are.”

“But you’re not sure where it is?”

“Not exactly. Up by the lake.”

“Mallory—” the agent began.

“It’s all right,” Milton interjected. “If they’re up there, I’ll find them.”

“You sure about that?” she said dubiously.

Milton ignored her. He studied the map. “It’s twenty miles from here. We follow this road out of town, go over the railroad, and then we can get into the forest from there. We’ll hike the rest of the way.”

Ellie turned back to the wheel and started the engine.

Milton leaned back in the comfortable leather seats and tried to dislodge the nagging doubt that this whole enterprise had the potential to be a big, expensive mistake.

THE RAINS came again as they drove out of town. The clouds had rolled in with startling speed, and the patchy blue that had been overhead after lunchtime was replaced by an angry churn of inky blacks and greys. As they drove along the narrow blacktop, pressed between the shoulders of fir trees that loomed close on both sides, a tremendous boom of thunder ripped down from the sky, and the rain hammered down. The light vanished and it was quickly almost as dark as it would be at night. The automatic lights flickered on, but the rain was so heavy that Ellie had to drop her speed right down.

He wondered whether it might not make more sense to turn around and go back to Truth, take another night in the hotel, and then start again early tomorrow morning. He was about to broach the suggestion, but when he looked across at Mallory she was so intent and so buried in concentration that he changed his mind. She wouldn’t want to take anything that might be construed as a backward step. She would have seen a delay as an opportunity for Ellie and himself to reconsider their involvement. He was sure that she would resist if he tried and, after a moment’s thought, he allowed the thought to pass.

They might get a little wet, but at least they would be on their way.

They turned north and kept driving for another mile, passing tiny one-track service roads and fire breaks that branched out to the left and right. They passed two other vehicles during the short drive: a truck laden with logs, so wide on the narrow road that Ellie had to drive halfway onto the shoulder to let it pass them, and another SUV, its lights glowing like golden bowls in the seemingly solid wall of water.

The northern boundary of the town was delineated by the railroad that ran from east to west. They crossed the track and reached a narrow road on the other side that skirted the southern boundary of a farmer’s field. Corn was growing in the field, stalks as tall as a man swaying in the strengthening breeze. The four-wheel drive kicked in as the wheels slipped across the slick surface, and Ellie switched to high beams to paint light in the gloom as far ahead as she could. She stopped and switched off the engine, the courtesy lights shining warm and cosy as a perverse counterpoint to the torrential deluge drumming against the roof and cascading down the windshield.