Tortured Spirits (35 page)

Then he saw the bandaged stump where the man's right foot should have been, and his stomach twisted.

“This is Father Alejandro from St. Anthony's,” Maria said. “He helped save my life.” Her tone made it clear she did not intend to leave him behind.

“Let me take him. We need your hands free.” Jake wrapped his right arm around Alejandro's back. “Father.”

Alejandro put an arm over Jake's shoulders, and Jake grasped his wrist.

“I've heard about you. I thought we'd never meet.”

They made their way to the stairs.

This isn't good,
Jake thought.

Andre held out his hand to Alejandro. “It's good to see you face-to-face.”

“Same here.”

Jake sighed. “Can we just get the hell out of here? Hopefully our men took out the guard towers, but according to our intel, there are still two soldiers left.”

A deafening alarm rang out, and Jake and Maria glanced at each other.

Maria touched down on the dimly lit station's floor first. Shining her flashlight up the shaft, she watched Andre descend with his box of books clutched under one arm, then Father Alejandro, who hopped down one rung to the other awkwardly, and finally Jake, with only one hand.

What a motley bunch,
she thought.

“Problem number one,” Jake said. “There are four of us and only three dollies.”

“That's not a problem. Father Alejandro and I are both small. We can share my dolly.”

Jake glanced at the dollies with a skeptical expression. “That will mean twice as much weight.”

“That's okay. We'll have four hands instead of two to push the bar.”

“Fine. You two go first.”

“Uh-uh. We'll go last. If anyone tries to follow us, I'll be able to use this.” Maria tapped her machine gun.
“You
go first. If there's any trouble at Jorge's end, you'll be able to deal with it a hell of a lot easier than Mr. Santiago.” She glanced up the shaft. “Hurry!”

Jake climbed on top of the first dolly.

Maria set her foot on the dolly's edge and shoved it forward, sending Jake into the dark tunnel. She gestured at the dolly. “Get the picture?” she said to Andre.

“Vividly.” Andre clambered onto the second dolly and grasped its bar.

Maria set the box containing Andre's journals on his thighs. “It's a quarter of a mile to the other end. You'll be there in no time.” She sent him on his way, then reached for the dolly leaning against the wall.

Up above, fists pounded on the supply closet door.

Maria set the last dolly on the tracks. “You first, Father.” She helped him onto the dolly. “Go on. Grab the bar.”

“What about you?”

Machine gun fire blasted the door above.

Jake arrived at the other end of the tunnel, and Jorge helped him to his feet.

“That was a hell of a smoother landing than the first one,” Jake said, grateful to be out of the narrower tunnel.

Jorge raised the lantern, which cast gloomy light around them. “Armand and Stephane took care of the guard tower sentries.”

“Yeah? Too bad they didn't get the patrol in the yard.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. For all we know, extra men were posted out there. There's no accounting for the unexpected.”

“Did you get Le Père?”

As if on cue, Andre emerged from the tunnel. Sitting up, he grabbed his box of books, and Jake and Jorge helped him out.

“Mr. Santiago, I'm Jorge De Jesus. I've looked forward to this day for a long time.”

“Not as long as I have.” Andre clasped Jorge's shoulder. “But thank you for everything.”

“Step away from that opening,” Jake said as he cleared the second dolly from the tracks.

They stared into the tunnel.

“What's taking them so long?” Jorge said.

Jake bit his lip. “Maria had to set the last dolly on the tracks, and we had an unanticipated complication.”

“Father Alejandro,” Andre said.

Jake didn't see Jorge's reaction because he was staring into the tunnel's darkness. A faint light appeared, like a firefly. “Here they come!”

Jorge held the lantern above the opening, and Jake waited for the last dolly to arrive. He heard the wheels on the tracks and the steady sound of pumping. The dolly rocketed out of the tunnel and ground to a halt in the dirt. Alejandro released his grip on the bar and sat up, shaking his head.

Jake felt numbness spreading through him. “Where the hell's Maria?”

Using the dolly's arm for leverage, Alejandro stood. “We didn't both fit. She told me to take the dolly and said she'd crawl behind me.”

“And you
listened
to her?”

“She's a very persuasive woman with a machine gun, and I'm a priest with one foot.”

“Help me get this dolly back on the tracks,” Jake said.

Andre set down his books, and he and Jorge lifted the dolly.

“Turn it around. I need to see where I'm going in case she really is crawling in there. If I crash into her I'll kill her.”

They positioned the dolly as Jake ordered, and Jorge switched the arm from one side to the other.

Jake climbed aboard. “Give me that machine gun. I can't pump and shoot at the same time, but maybe Maria will need it.”

Andre fit the machine gun under Jake's leg.

“You'll never both fit,” Alejandro said.

“We'll manage. Give me a headlight.”

Jorge wedged Jake's flashlight into the side of the arm. “I don't think this will help …”

“You guys get going. We'll catch up. Send me to El Miedo!”

Jorge set his foot behind the dolly and gave it a sharp kick, sending Jake back into danger. Jake pumped the bar with all his strength.

Stubborn. Fucking. Woman!

He promised never to allow Maria to use logic to sway him against his gut instincts again. Raising his head, he saw little but darkness. The flashlight made the tunnel on Jake's left-hand side gleam but provided no more illumination
than the spotlight on the arm.

I'll go as fast as I can, then slow way down when I reach the halfway point.

He saw something ahead: faint orange light, growing brighter.

Oh, shit!

He pulled the bar in reverse as hard as he could, braking the dolly, then grabbed the arm, jerked it out, and shoved it into the opposite hole. Throwing his head back, he pumped the bar. The orange light grew brighter, closer. He pumped faster and harder, but the fireball gained on him. In seconds, he felt the light and heat on his face. Then he shot through the tunnel's opening and slammed into the dirt.

“Get down!” Jake rolled off the dolly and over to the side wall, where he lay facedown in the dirt. A sheet of orange flames escaped the tunnel, followed by another and another. When the fire seemed to have abated, he jumped up and sprinted over to the cinder-block wall beside the tunnel's opening, where he felt safe. “Is everyone okay?”

“Oui!” Jorge called out. “Our feathers are just a little singed.”

Bending over, Jake stared into the tunnel. If Maria had been in there, the fire would have burned her to death. If she hadn't, there was no way he could safely travel the tunnel if the soldiers on the other end discharged another fireball.

Damn it!

Pounding the cinder-block wall, he wanted to call out for Maria, but under either of the scenarios he had envisioned, it was best that the soldiers considered the rest of them dead for as long as possible. With tears in his eyes,
he joined his companions.

“What the hell was that?” Alejandro said.

“A flamethrower.” Jake saw that Jorge and Andre supported the priest between them. “What about your precious books?”

“Fuck ‘em,” Andre said.

“I'm sorry about this, Mr. Helman,” Alejandro said. “So very, very sorry.”

“Maria's Catholic. I should have figured she'd take a chance like this. You boys run ahead. I'll catch up in a minute.”

As the three men hobbled off, Jake retraced his steps until the beam of his flashlight revealed Andre's box of journals. Jamming the flashlight under his left arm, he scooped up the box.

I really hope you're the real deal, Andre.

Making his way through the oppressive darkness, he rejoined the others.

“Thank you,” Andre said. “You didn't have to do that. I'm sorry about your friend.”

Jake didn't care if they noticed his tears in the glare of his flashlight. “You can thank me and honor Maria's wishes by moving faster.”

The sounds of their scuffling grew more urgent.

“Why are you doing this if you're not a mercenary, Mr. Helman?”

Jake pointed his flashlight at the ground ahead. “Your wife had a niece.”

“Ramera.”

“Among other names. She flooded New York City with
Black Magic and turned my best friend into a raven. My friend managed to kill her anyway. I'm told that because of their shared bloodline, Miriam is the only Mambo who can reverse the spell. Your freedom is the cost of her services.”

Silence hung in the air. Jake realized he had not discussed Edgar's condition with anyone on Pavot Island. Now he didn't care if they believed him or not.

“I'm sorry about your friend,” Andre said. “And I'm sorry my wife probably got Miss Vasquez killed on what amounted to a suicide mission. I'm afraid her devotion to the concept of my freedom has become an obsession.”

“Edgar was—
is
—Maria's friend, too. She wanted to come here. No one forced her. She knew what chances she was taking, and when she sent Alejandro into the tunnel alone she knew what sacrifice she was making.”

Jake needed to shut down his emotions. It was the only way he could survive this ordeal. He intended to send Andre to Miami without him. At least Edgar would be saved. He didn't care about Malvado, Andre, Father Alejandro, Mambo Catoute, Jorge, Armand, or Stephane. He didn't care about Russel or avenging Maria's death.

You can't get revenge against an entire army.

He didn't give a damn about Pavot Island or anywhere else for that matter. With Maria dead, he wanted only one thing: enough Black Magic to make his pain go away, regardless of the consequences. He felt dead already. And Pavot Island was the perfect place to find Magic.

“Jorge! Jorge!” Armand's voice came over Jorge's hand radio.

“I couldn't break radio silence to call him,” Jorge said as he unfastened the radio from his belt and raised it to his mouth. “Go ahead.”

“They're closing in on us. What the hell's going on down there?”

“We have Le Père. We're halfway through the main tunnel.”

“Hurry. We have to get out of here!”

“We're moving as fast as we can. We have an injured member of our party.”

“They have Maria.”

Jake jerked his head up. “What?”

“They're loading her into a helicopter in the prison right now.”

Jake's heart beat faster.

“Go ahead,” Andre said. “You're not doing anything now except hold that flashlight anyway.”

Jake glanced at the box of books in his hands, then at Andre.

“Like I said before: fuck ‘em.”

Jake looked at each man, then dumped the box and ran ahead.