There shouldn’t be a clear field of vision down here-unless he has a nightvision device. She flattened herself even harder against the ground. He would be on the edge of the trees, just inside their cover, looking down the hill. Don’t move.
Don’t even twitch.
He was moving again. She tried her eyes; she thought she could see something now, the outline of her right hand, holding the gun. She very slowly turned her head, individual blades of grass tickling her nose, and looked up the hill.
There, a darker shadow among the black tree shapes. Everything was still outlined in a purple halo, but her vision was coming back, although she had to loo* just to the side of objects to see them.”Me shadow moved again, going left across her field of vision, obscured now by the mound behind which she was hiding. He was staying in the trees, crossing a dozen yards of ground, until suddenly the buzz of a rattler erupted near him. The deadly sound made Karen jump. She closed her eyes and fought for control. She had never heard a rattlesnake before tonight, but there had been no mistaking it. She opened her eyes, then raised her head again to look. The shadow had stopped at the snake sound.
Then, making no more effort to be stealthy, the figure crunched back up the hill and disappeared into the darkness surrounding the ruined house.
Train couldn’t believe what Galantz was doing. He had ordered Sherman to move back, to crawl back over toward Train’ Then, staying in front of the strobe light, he had recounted in a cold, clinical manner how Elizabeth Walsh had died. It’s easy if you know how, Sherman. Not my first one, of course, Turn the head Sideways, then pull straight back.
You can actually hear it. It’s like a rattlesnake: an unmistakable sound Sherman’s hands had dropped as Galantz told his story.
Train could not read hiseyes in the strobe light, but everything in Sherman’s posture spelled total defeat.
And her only crime was to have been your girlfriend Just like the old man: He was really your only friend, wasn’t he, Sherman? Did I get that right? Ifelt a twinge about killing the woman, but the old man-well, he was on borrowed time. I think he actually had a heart attack, when he saw my face. Not the first guy to do tffat, either. The face you gave me, Sherman. You remember, don’t you?
The rhythm of Galantz’s voice was almost hypnotic-die strong inhalation, the stream of words through the voice box, with that wheezy harmonic.
Sherman was shaking his head slowly, as if unwilling to hear any more of this. There was a rattle of boards above, and then the trapdoor opened and Jack came back down the steps.
“The yard area’s clear,” he said. “Can’t tell what’s out there on the hillside. If they’re out there like you think, they haven’t moved -any closer.”
Galantz moved to the other side of the strobe, passing directly in front of it. Train got a glimpse of his face in the reflected light. He definitely had some kind of mask on.
Train wished he could fire a disrupter right about then. The light amplifier of a nightvision mask would really do a number on him.
That woman is out there somewhere, Jack Your father here isn’t brave enough to come alone. Get me the flip phone. Jack went to the desk, sorted through some things, and then brought Galantz a small flat object. Train chose that moment to begin creeping very slowly along the wall, an inch at a time, toward Sherman. He didn’t have a plan, but he couldn’t bear just standing there anymore. He had gone about two inches when he sensed Galantz looking at him, and then there was a bellowing blast from the .45 and something hit the wall next to his head, stinging his face with stone splinters, followed by the sounds of a bullet ricocheting around the stone walls. Everyone in the room except Galantz ducked down instinctively, including Jack.
Train straightened tip and put a hand up to the right side of his face.
It was wet, the blood making a black smear in -the red light.
“Is that like”Don’t move’?” he asked.
“Sit still, you crazy bastard,” Jack hissed, rising from his own crouch, his tone of voice clearly intimating that Train wasn , t the only crazy bastard in the basement. Sherman had ducked his bead almost down to the concrete floor, and he was only now raising it. Galantz was talking into the phone as if nothing had happened.
Karen waited ten minutes before moving, keeping her eyes closed to let them rest, listening hard while fighting back the urge just to get up and run full tilt down the hill. She was almost sick with worry about Train. He had to be up there, too, which gave them two hostages. But was down there on the road, with a car and a phone. Finally, she put her head up and looked: across the hillside. But there was nothing moving out there, just the stationary shapes of trees and bushes couched among the’sounds of the night insects. The rain had petered out for the moment, although the diurhp and rumble of thunder in the distance was getting more frequent. She thought about going up the hill, then quickly discarded that idea. The best thing she could do was get help, and help lay at the end of that car phone down the dirt road.
Staying on her hands and knees, she crawled carefully down the hill, trying to remember where that damned wire was, with all its venomous voices. Another ten minutes and the undergrowth thinned out as she crept closer to the huge downed tree blocking the top of the dirt road, near Jack’s trailer. And then she froze, her skin crawling, when she heard a low, rumbling growl.
Animal there. Big animal. Dog. Huge dog.
She raised the gun. She couldn’t see the dog, but there was no mistaking that noise.
Familiar noise.
“Gutter?” she called. The rumbling stopped immediately, replaced with an eager whining noise.
“Gutter, come,” she called, trying not to say it too loudly. The dog bounded out from behind the downed tree and ran straight to her, a hundred-pound mass of sleek, wriggling canine. She hugged the dog with more than just a little relief. She stood up and walked straight down the hill, around the fallen tree, and discovered her Explorer parked to one side. Train. She looked inside, then hurried down the path toward the trailer.
She was pretty sure that she had heard Galantz tell someone-most likely, Jack-to bring Sherman in. So Jack’s trailer should be empty. She had to find out if Train was in there, although she was pretty sure she knew where Train really was. With the dog at her side, she wasn’t worried anymore about what might be lurking in the bushes.
She went to the trailer and found the front door open.
Gutter bounded inside and made a quick sweep, then started whining excitedly. So Train had been here. She followed the dog back out, but then she called him back, her heart sinking, when he started up the hill. All right. So Galantz had them both. Now, get to a phone.
It took her five minutes to get down the hill, with only one delay when she twisted her ankle in a rut she failed to see. The darkened sedan was parked across the entrance to the dirt road, pointed uphill on the edge of Cherry Hill Road.
But the car was empty when she peered inside. When she looked up, Hiroshi was standing up across Cherry Hill Road,
where he had been hiding in some bushes. He cradled what looked like a sawed-off shotgun in his arms. Gutter ran across the road, wiggling a greeting to his old friend.
“Hiroshi, thank God,” she said. “I need to get on the phone. They’ve taken Admiral Sherman. And I’m sure Train’s up there, at the top of the.hill. There’s an old ruined house up there.”
Hiroshi trotted over, unlocking the car doors with the remote key set.
Karen jumped in on the passenger side and powered up the phone while Hiroshi waited outside with the dog, scanning the dirt road. Now, who to call? Mcnair was the obvious choice, but she hesitated. Mcnair already knew that Galantz was probably up on this hill. He had sent a message for Sherman to stay out of here. So why in the hell weren’t the woods full of cops?