“Thanks for all the help,” I said.
He laughed. There wasn’t an ounce of mirth in it. “I should ask you to shoot me. And you’d have every right to do it. No jury would convict you.”
“No, I’m not going to shoot you. I know you’ve tried to help me. Besides, there’s a little girl waiting for you somewhere, right?”
He looked away. “You remember that?”
“Yes, although I don’t remember all of it, at least not clearly.”
“Miranda. That’s her name. I may have just signed her death warrant. Parrish told me that if he didn’t make a call by a certain time, she would be killed.”
“I heard a helicopter. I’m sure they’re waiting out this storm just like we are. But as soon as it’s over, they’ll find us, we’ll get you to a hospital, and the police can do an all-out search for your daughter.”
“My daughter. With any luck, she’ll never know that. If she survives this, at least she won’t have to spend time around her grandfather or her father. One is dead, and the other’s going to prison.”
“Not if I can help it,” I said. “I mean, Parrish can stay dead-”
He did laugh at that.
“And I’ll do what I can to help you stay free. I know a great defense attorney.”
He was silent for a long time, then said, “You’re kind. And I-I’m glad you don’t think the worst of me, although I couldn’t blame you if you did. Which still makes me the son of that piece of shit out there.”
It occurred to me that, until that moment, I had never heard him use even so much as “damn” under the most trying of circumstances. Which confirmed me in an opinion I had been forming for some time now. “You aren’t like him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“No. You don’t.”
“Look, Donovan, you’re right. I don’t know your history. I don’t know your background. I don’t know a damned thing about your past. But I know that whatever may have been in the past doesn’t matter to me. Right here, right now, it brought you to do things for me at great risk to your own life-and your daughter’s. I wish I could tell you how it felt, when I was alone, trying to hide from Nicky out there, to suddenly realize that you were rooting for me to survive. Not just in favor of it but actively helping me. You thought everything out. If you hadn’t, I don’t think I would have made it this far.”
“You underrate yourself.”
“Likewise.”
We fell silent. I had insisted, over his strong objections, that he sit on his own sleeping bag, rather than give it to me. He lay down now but shifted, apparently unable to get comfortable.
“Donovan.”
“Yes.”
“Remember the physicist I interviewed about the Large Hadron Collider?”
He seemed startled by the change in subject. “Yes.”
“I did that interview because my boss, who was once a lowly underling at the Express, got on an astrophysics kick. He came across this sentence, ‘The universe is expanding.’ He fell in love with that. You know why?”
“Because it’s true.”
“It is true, but that’s not the only reason he has all but come up with a coat of arms to put it on. Do you know much about Ethan?”
“You were his mentor. He took over running the news at the radio station, and after the paper closed, he hired you. He rents a room from your friend Ben Sheridan and is learning to be a dog handler, although his new job has made it hard for him to keep up with that.”
I tried and failed not to look taken aback.
“I studied you,” he said in a tired, flat voice. “You and everyone around you.”
“So-you know that he was a cocky, lying little bastard who hid how shitfaced drunk he was getting every day, then fucked up big-time and brought so much shame on himself and on the paper that he nearly got fired, and probably would have found it easier if he hadn’t ever returned to the newsroom, where just about everyone hated him?”
There was a long silence before Donovan said, “No, I didn’t come across that information.”
“Yes, well, in a nutshell, he changed. He’s still cocky, but I kind of hope that never changes. So even though the astrophysicists don’t mean it in the same way, he believes we should all embrace the fact that the universe is expanding.”
“I don’t know what sins Ethan committed, but-it’s not that. It’s not what I’ve done. It’s who I am. Cold. My own mother knew I had inherited an evil streak.”
“What?”
“Parrish raped her. She decided not to get an abortion. But even from the time I was little, I remember her being afraid of me, of who I would become, of my nature. I’ve always known I’m… not like other people.”
“Well, thank God for that.”
He laughed then, a genuine laugh. He reached for his shoulder.
“Sure you don’t want that painkiller?”
“Sure. I need to stay awake. I’m fairly certain Kai would have found his way back here by now if he was going to, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“What happened to her?”
“My mother? My stepfather killed her. He’s in prison.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “I never felt close to either of them.”
After a moment I said, “The world would be a horrible place if all children believed everything their parents said about them.”
“It’s not just what they said. It’s what I know I’m capable of.”
“That can be tough. For example, I’ve learned I can kill a man with my bare hands. A little earlier today, I wondered if I could bring myself to garrote someone. Guess I answered that. I ran to have the chance to do it.”
“To save me. Besides, I killed him.”
“Grateful for that, but really, I’m not so sure he wasn’t already gone. And besides…” I drew a deep breath, let it out slowly. “He’s not the first person I’ve killed, and there are others whose deaths I probably could have prevented.”
“You aren’t God. And I know about the killings-you were defending yourself.”
I fell silent. My ghosts endure. I struggle to forgive myself, but they endure.
I felt weary and lay down, even though I knew I would not sleep.
“I’m sorry if I upset you,” he said.
“You didn’t. Just something I have to live with.”
“Believe me, I understand.”
He wanted to stay awake, to stand guard, but blood loss and physical exhaustion trumped even pain, and soon I heard him fall asleep. He was on top of, rather than in the sleeping bag, so I put the survival blanket over him, trying to make sure he stayed warm.
“The universe is expanding, Donovan,” I whispered. “However small any of our lives are at any given point, we can draw bigger lines around them.”
I lay back on my side of the tent and thought about ways to get the attention of a helicopter that might not also draw the attention of a young serial killer.
FIFTY-FOUR
Travis settled the helicopter on the road, not far from the SUV. Frank had wondered if he’d really be able to do it and reminded himself that Travis did contract work for the Forest Service in these mountains on a regular basis, but after seeing how close they had come to the trees, he still needed a minute before he trusted himself to speak.
“I don’t see anyone in the vehicle,” Jack said.
“Let’s go then,” Frank said, and they opened the cargo bay doors. Jack and Travis were going to help Ben get the dogs, but Ben shook his head.
“They won’t work well with all this wind. We may need them later, but right now I’d rather not expose them to the possibility of getting debris in their eyes.”
As agreed-after debate-the others waited while Frank walked to the Subaru.
Concerned that Parrish had set a trap with the SUV, Frank walked around the vehicle, then got down on his hands and knees and looked beneath it. He stood and peered inside it. Nothing bomblike, but there were some objects in the back. He pulled out the lock picks and went to work. In a matter of seconds, he had the Forester unlocked. He took a deep breath and opened the driver’s door. A dome light went on, and nothing more. He exhaled.