“They’re down!” Josh yelled. “The Red-ops are down!”
Everyone cheered but Duncan. He cried, softly stroking the belly of his friend, Mathison, limp in his lap.
He did it,” Wiley said. “Duncan did it.” The words came out more like a rasp, and then he fell to his knees and onto his side.
“Josh!” Ace yelled. “Something happened to my brother!”
Wiley heard people walk over, saw them bringing candles. Josh crouched next to him, pressed his fingers to his carotid.
“Talk to me, Warren,” Josh said. “What happened? Were you shot?”
“No,” Wiley said. It was tough to breathe. And it hurt. He forgot how much it hurt.
“Help me look for wounds. Let’s get his shirt off.”
Josh and Fran tugged at his clothes and Josh said, “Oh … Warren.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, you old bastard?” Streng asked.
“We weren’t … we weren’t exactly on speaking terms, Ace.”
“How long ago?”
Wiley touched the scar on his breastbone. “Ten years. Went to the ER in Madison. They put in the pacemaker.” He winked at his brother. “Runs on a microchip.”
“Fran told me about the film,” Ace said. “That’s why you didn’t stay in touch.”
“People after me. Too dangerous. Didn’t want them to go after you or our parents.”
Someone grabbed his hand. He stared, saw it was Fran. She squeezed it tight, and he tried to squeeze it back.
“Wiley!” Duncan ran over, knelt next to him. He was still holding the monkey, and he set its dead body down on the sofa. “What’s wrong, Wiley?”
Wiley coughed. “Bad heart, son. Couldn’t take all the excitement.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
Wiley shook his head. “No. I’m sorry, Duncan. I really would have liked to go fishing with you.”
Duncan hugged him, and for the second time in far too long, Wiley smiled.
“Do you like apples?” he asked his grandson.
“Yeah, Grandpa. I like apples.”
Wiley cleared his throat, and then he felt his heart beat for the last time.
“I like apples, too.”
• • •
Streng closed his eyes. An hour ago, he’d wanted to kick Wiley’s ass. But now he felt a loss even greater than his missing leg.
Though Streng hadn’t followed his brother’s footsteps into seclusion, he did live alone. He had a job, yes, and buddies, and even a small circle of lady friends to help keep warm on chilly winter nights. But Streng had never married, never had children. Wiley was the last of his family. And just as they were rebuilding their relationship after half a lifetime apart, he was taken away.
“How are you doing?” Josh placed his hand on Streng’s shoulder. “Your leg, I mean.”
“I’m managing.”
“The front entrance won’t open. It runs on electricity. But there’s a secret exit. It’s going to be hard on you. We’ll have to pull you up with rope.”
Streng shook his head. “I think I’ll stay here a while. I’ve got food, medicine. Even if you get me out, we can’t get to a hospital.”
“I’ve got a plan for that. And we won’t leave you behind.”
Streng saw the seriousness in Josh’s expression and gave in.
“Okay. Wiley’s desk chair has wheels on it. Let’s roll that bad boy over here and get me mobile.”
Streng tucked the Taurus into his belt and allowed Fran and Josh to manhandle him into the chair. It took every speck of effort he had left not to scream when they set him down too fast and three of the clamps knocked against the floor, but he managed to contain it.
“What about Grandpa and Mathison?” Duncan said. “Are we leaving them here?”
“We’ll come back for them, Duncan. We have to get the sheriff to a hospital first.”
Duncan patted Mathison on the head and reluctantly followed.
“Come, Woof.”
Woof sat next to Wiley and didn’t move.
“Woof, come!” Duncan said again.
Woof licked Wiley’s face, then howled. Then he moved to Mathison and nudged the monkey with his nose.
“Woof!” Fran yelled. “Come, now!”
Woof picked up Mathison in his mouth, ever so gently, and trotted after them.
“Woof! Put that down!”
“It’s okay, Fran,” Streng said. “Woof just isn’t ready to say good-bye yet.”
Duncan joined Josh behind Streng’s chair, helping him push. They moved slowly, no hurry, no speaking, everyone holding candles. It reminded Streng of a funeral vigil.
They gave a wide berth to the dead bodies of Santiago and Taylor and rolled Streng into the dark hallway, maintaining silence. Streng remembered how angry he’d been with Wiley when he shipped all of his black-market stolen goods to their parents’ house after the war, telling their father to hide it all, implicating them in his crimes. Then he remembered a time many years earlier, when he’d twisted an ankle playing in the woods, and Wiley carried him home on his back.
Wiley had known there was a chip in his pacemaker. He told Duncan to press the EMP anyway, to save their lives. That was the Wiley that Streng swore he would remember.
Their procession moved into the kitchen, quiet and solemn. Streng almost felt it sacrilegious to speak.
“Josh, there should be rope in the storage room. Fran will go up first, then Duncan, then you, and the three of you can pull me up.”
“What about Woof?” Duncan asked.
Streng turned to Josh. “Is it too steep for Woof?”
“It’s a plastic pipe. His paws will slip.”
“Then he can go up before me.”
“What if you get stuck?” Fran said. “One of us should go up behind you, if we have to push.”
Streng sighed. “Okay, I’ll go up third, then Josh.”
“Josh can’t use his hand,” Fran said. “He can’t push. I’ll go up last.”
“Fran—” Streng and Josh said it at the same time.
“It will be okay. Let’s find some rope.”
Josh went off to the storage room. Streng stared at Fran and Duncan, and the realization hit him. Wiley hadn’t been the last of his family. Fran was his niece, and Duncan his great-nephew. The thought warmed him.
“I found rope,” Josh said. “And some Demoral, Fran, for your toes.”
“How about your fingers?” she said.
“Are you kidding? I’m so numb I could play tennis.”
Josh attended to Fran, giving her a shot in the foot. Then Fran tied one end of the rope under Streng’s armpits and the other to Josh’s belt.
“Be careful,” she said to Josh.
“I will.”
They looked deep into each other’s eyes for so long that Streng finally said, “You going to kiss, or stare at each other all day?”
Josh kissed her. Duncan giggled. Then Josh went into the closet and up the hole.
They waited, listening to Josh’s progress, every grunt and wheeze getting farther. After two minutes he yelled down, “I made it!”
“Can you do this, Duncan?” Streng asked.
“No problem. I bet I’m faster than Josh.”
“I bet you are, too.”
And then something chirped. Streng looked around, wondering where the sound came from. Another chirp, and Streng determined the sound was coming from Woof.
The dog gingerly set Mathison onto the floor.
The monkey chirped again.
“Mathison!” Duncan exclaimed. He scooped the primate up and rubbed his belly. “Josh! Mathison’s alive!”
Streng’s smile died on his face.
“Fran, you and Duncan up the pipe, now.”
“Sheriff—”
“If Mathison didn’t die, the others might still be alive, too.”
Fran nodded, hurrying Duncan to the hole. He began to climb, Mathison perched on his shoulder. Fran got in after him.