I’d been so sidetracked by Zoe’s injury that I’d forgotten my commitment to the rest of the townspeople. And I’d certainly forgotten about Randall.
His memory came flooding back into my head now, though, and I added another reason to the list of motivations for getting the people to shelter.
Randall was out there, somewhere, possibly searching for us. Possibly already following us, and possibly right on our tail. My eyes flew instinctively to the forest our group had just come out of, and I scanned the trees, looking for something—anything—that indicated the presence of men who wanted to do us harm.
I didn’t see anything. But that didn’t mean they weren’t there. And it didn’t change my mind about getting these people to the buildings on Marlon’s compound.
“Let’s go,” I muttered to Angie. “The sooner everyone is inside, getting warm and resting, the sooner I can stop worrying about Randall catching us out here in the wilderness and taking advantage of the fact that we’re unprepared.”
24
The moment we arrived at Marlon’s house, we started assigning housing. I sent Angie into the main house with Rhonda and Danny so they could see Zoe, and then turned to Marlon.
“Right, so where are we putting people?” I asked bluntly. “I want them inside, out of the cold, and resting. We worry about food after we’ve got everyone assigned. You said you had room for everyone. Now’s the time to prove it.”
I looked around, trying to remember what I knew of the place. He’d mentioned several outbuildings, and I remembered that there was in fact a barn—where I’d found the sleds we’d used to get Angie on the road when she was injured. But I didn’t remember anything else.
I also hadn’t gone that far out into the property. I’d been in a bit of a hurry at the time.
“Everyone can come into the house,” Marlon answered, his tone far more casual than mine.
That stopped me in my tracks, and I stared at him. “Marlon, there are around two hundred people who need shelter. Some of them are couples, but some aren’t. And there are an awful lot of kids who need space as well.”
He never even looked away from me. Didn’t even have to take time to think about it or do any quick math in his head.
“And I’m telling you, there’s room for all of them in the house,” he replied. “I’ll be at the top of the stairs into the basement. Send them in, and make sure they’re in family groups. I’ll forward them to their assigned spots.”
He turned and left without adding anything else, and I actually stood there and stared, caught too much by surprise to think of anything to say. Yeah, I’d known there were a ton of extra rooms in that place. I’d seen all the extra beds and wondered what they were for—wondered if Marlon was running some sort of hotel or something. I’d thought it more likely that he’d had a very large family at some point, and something had happened to them.
The idea that there was room for a full two hundred people in that building, though… That had never occurred to me. Because it was bordering on unbelievable. Bordering on being outright fantastical.
I glanced up, trying to figure out how it could possibly be true. The house was three stories tall, yes, and wasn’t pretty. It was economical more than anything else. Just a sort of off-white box in the snow, with a peaked roof to keep the snow from sitting too heavy on the top and causing a cave-in. A purely efficient use of space, without any decorations whatsoever.
But even with how large the inside was, three stories didn’t give us enough space for two hundred people, I didn’t think.
Then I remembered the operating theatre in the basement. And I remembered that there were other staircases down there—ones I hadn’t gone into. They had to lead further downward. There had to be other levels underneath the one I’d seen.
What the hell was he doing living in a building that could house so many people? Why did this building even exist? And why out here in the middle of nowhere?
All questions that I was going to be asking him this afternoon, when we had our little chat.
“I can’t believe we have everyone settled in a room,” Bob said in surprise, looking around at the rest of us.
Bob, Marlon, Angie, and I were sitting in the kitchen. The townspeople were all settled into rooms and resting before we started worrying about dinner, and I didn’t think that was a bad idea. Most of the people were frozen half to death and too tired to even speak properly, and that particularly went for the older and younger sets.
Honestly, I was surprised we’d managed to get through that forced march with only one casualty. We’d discussed it and decided that it was best to give them all an hour to recover before we made them gather for food.
Which gave us an hour to wring information out of Marlon. He’d promised me answers. I wanted them. Because I needed to know who and what he was before we decided on our next step.
I turned to him and saw that he already knew what was coming. His face was carefully blank, his lips turned up in the start of a smile, his eyes on my own. He tipped his head as if in question—in invitation—and the smile grew.
“What are you two smiling at each other about?” Angie asked bluntly. “Is there something going on here? Do I need to be jealous?”
“We’re smiling,” Marlon said quietly, “because your husband has been waiting several days to be able to get me in a spot where he can ask me one or two very pointed questions about who I am and what I’m all about. How I managed to be in exactly the right place at exactly the right time in order to save you two from the cold—and further, why I have a fully supplied operating suite in what appears to be the basement of my house. He’s wondering how a doctor from the middle of Michigan got to be so good at weapons, and why that doctor happened to have an exoskeleton that is military-grade material. He wants to know how exactly I know Randall, and what my dealings have been with him. I’m absolutely positive he wants to ask about this house of mirrors, and why it has so many rooms.” He pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes a bit. “And I expect he wants to ask who and what I am to the Intelligence Community and military, and what that means for him. And for his future.”
“That about covers it,” I answered quietly. “And I suggest you answer those questions in the most efficient way possible. Because we only have an hour before people start wandering up here, expecting food.”
Marlon shook his head, his face deadly serious. “We have deadlines at hand, young grasshopper, but they’re a whole lot more serious than food. I do have a story to tell you. And once I’m done, I hope you’ll understand why it’s so vital that we start moving again immediately.”
25
I expected Marlon to settle back into his chair, ready to tell a story, but instead he leaned forward, his eyes burning, his voice tense. His entire face changed from the man I’d known up to this point—the relatively easy-going would-be vet—to a man I wouldn’t have been surprised to see on a battlefield.
A man who was in charge of other men. A man who was used to making hard decisions to make sure that those men survived the night. Survived the battle.
“The truth is,” he started out quickly, “you’re right about me, John. You’ve been right the entire time. I’m not a vet. I never even pretended to be one. But it’s a good cover for being out here. ‘Small-town doctor moves into the country for retirement, takes on animals for veterinary care as a hobby and service to the community.’ Hell, people have brought me animals, and I have treated them, but I’ve certainly never asked for that. It’s not why I’m here.”