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Putting the point of the pen to the paper, Tina said, “Okay, Billy. Do your stuff.”

Elliot was not sure when Tina slipped under the hypnotist’s spell, and he had no idea how this smooth mesmerism was accomplished. All Sandstone did was move one hand slowly back and forth in front of Tina’s face, simultaneously speaking to her in a quiet, rhythmic voice, frequently using her name.

Elliot almost fell into a trance himself. He blinked his eyes and tuned out Sandstone’s melodious voice when he realized that he was succumbing to it.

Tina stared vacantly into space.

The hypnotist lowered his hand and turned his ring around as it belonged. “You’re in a deep sleep, Tina.”

“Yes.”

“Your eyes are open, but you are in a deep, deep sleep.”

“Yes.”

“You will stay in that deep sleep until I tell you to wake up. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“You will remain relaxed and receptive.”

“Yes.”

“Nothing will startle you.”

“No.”

“You aren’t really involved in this. You’re just the method of transmission — like a telephone.”

“Telephone,” she said thickly.

“You will remain totally passive until you feel the urge to use the pen in your hand.”

“All right.”

“When you feel the urge to use the pen, you will not resist it. You will flow with it. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“You will not be bothered by anything Elliot and I say to each other. You will respond to me only when I speak directly to you. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Now… open yourself to whoever wants to speak through you.”

They waited.

A minute passed, then another.

Billy Sandstone watched Tina intently for a while, but at last he shifted impatiently in his chair. He looked at Elliot and said, “I don’t think this spirit writing stuff is—”

The map rustled, drawing their attention. The corners curled and uncurled, curled and uncurled, again and again, like the pulse of a living thing.

The air was colder.

The map stopped curling. The rustling ceased.

Tina lowered her gaze from the empty air to the map, and her hand began to move. It didn’t swoop and dart uncontrollably this time; it crept carefully, hesitantly across the paper, leaving a thin red line of ink like a thread of blood.

Sandstone was rubbing his hands up and down his arms to ward off the steadily deepening chill that had gripped the room. Frowning, glancing up at the heating vents, he started to get out of his chair.

Elliot said, “Don’t bother checking the air-conditioning. It isn’t on. And the heat hasn’t failed either.”

“What?”

“The cold comes from the… spirit,” Elliot said, deciding to stick with the occult terminology, not wanting to get bogged down in the real story about Danny.

“Spirit?”

“Yes.”

“Whose spirit?”

“Could be anyone’s.”

“Are you serious?”

“Pretty much.”

Sandstone stared at him as if to say, You’re nuts, but are you dangerous?

Elliot pointed to the map. “See?”

As Tina’s hand moved slowly over the paper, the corners of the map began to curl and uncurl again.

“How is she doing that?” Sandstone asked.

“She isn’t.”

“The ghost, I suppose.”

“That’s right.”

An expression of pain settled over Billy’s face, as if he were suffering genuine physical discomfort because of Elliot’s belief in ghosts. Apparently Billy liked his view of the world to be as neat and uncluttered as everything else about him; if he started believing in ghosts, he’d have to reconsider his opinions about a lot of other things too, and then life would become intolerably messy.

Elliot sympathized with the hypnotist. Right now he longed for the rigidly structured routine of the law office, the neatly ordered paragraphs of legal casebooks, and the timeless rules of the courtroom.

Tina let the pen drop from her fingers. She lifted her gaze from the map. Her eyes remained unfocused.

“Are you finished?” Billy asked her.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

With a few simple sentences and a sharp clap of his hands, the hypnotist brought her out of the trance.

She blinked in confusion, then glanced down at the route that she had marked on the map. She smiled at Elliot. “It worked. By God, it worked!”

“Apparently it did.”

She pointed to the terminus of the red line. “That’s where he is, Elliot. That’s where they’re keeping him.”

“It’s not going to be easy getting into country like that,” Elliot said.

“We can do it. We’ll need good, insulated outdoor clothes. Boots. Snowshoes in case we have to walk very far in open country. Do you know how to use snowshoes? It can’t be that hard.”

“Hold on,” Elliot said. “I’m still not convinced your dream meant what you think it did. Based on what you said happened in it, I don’t see how you reach the conclusion that Danny’s going to help us get into the installation. We might get to this place and find we can’t slip around its defenses.”

Billy Sandstone looked from Tina to Elliot, baffled. “Danny? Your Danny, Tina? But isn’t he—”

Tina said, “Elliot, it wasn’t only what happened in the dream that led me to this conclusion. What I felt in it was far more important. I can’t explain that part of it. The only way you could understand is if you had the dream yourself. I’m sure he was telling me that he could help us get to him.”

Elliot turned the map to be able to study it more closely.

From the head of the table, Billy said, “But isn’t Danny—”

Tina said, “Elliot, listen, I told you he would show us where he’s being kept, and he drew that route for us. So far I’m batting a thousand. I also feel he’s going to help us get into the place, and I don’t see any reason why I should strike out on that one.”

“It’s just… we’d be walking into their arms,” Elliot said.

“Whose arms?” Billy Sandstone asked.

Tina said, “Elliot, what happens if we stay here, hiding out until we can think of an alternative? How much time do we have? Not much. They’re going to find us sooner or later, and when they get their hands on us, they’ll kill us.”

“Kill?” Billy Sandstone asked. “There’s a word I don’t like. It’s right up there on the bad-word list beside broccoli.”

“We’ve gotten this far because we’ve kept moving and we’ve been aggressive,” Tina said. “If we change our approach, if we suddenly get too cautious, that’ll be our downfall, not our salvation.”

“You two sound like you’re in a war,” Billy Sandstone said uneasily.

“You’re probably right,” Elliot told Tina. “One thing I learned in the military was you have to stop and regroup your forces once in a while, but if you stop too long, the tide will turn and wash right over you.”

“Should I maybe go listen to the news?” Billy Sandstone asked. “Is there a war on? Have we invaded France?”

To Tina, Elliot said, “What else will we need besides thermal clothing, boots, and snowshoes?”

“A Jeep,” she said.

“That’s a tall order.”

“What about a tank?” Billy Sandstone asked. “Going to war, you might prefer a tank.”

Tina said, “Don’t be silly, Billy. A Jeep is all we need.”

“Just trying to be helpful, love. And thanks for remembering I exist.”