“For someone who’s been doing that, you seem remarkably averse to pain yourself. So stop the silent treatment and tell me how this works.”
“It’s voice activated,” Luke said. “Isn’t it?”
She looked at him, surprised. “You’re TK, not TP. And not that strong in TK, at that.”
“Things have changed,” Luke said. “Thanks to the Stasi Lights. Activate the phone, Mrs. Sigsby.”
“Make a deal?” she said, and barked a laugh. “What deal could possibly do me any good? I’m dead no matter what. I failed.”
Tim leaned in the sliding door. “Wendy, hand me the gun.”
She did so without argument.
Tim put the muzzle of Deputy Faraday’s service automatic to the pantleg that was still there, just below the knee. “This is a Glock, ma’am. If I pull the trigger, you will never walk again.”
“The shock and blood loss will kill her!” Dr. Evans squawked.
“Five dead back there, and she’s responsible,” Tim said. “Do you think I really care? I’ve had it with you, Mrs. Sigsby. This is your last chance. You might lose consciousness at once, but I’m betting your lights will stay on for awhile. Before they go out, the pain you feel will make that bullet-groove in your other leg feel like a kiss goodnight.”
She said nothing.
Wendy said, “Don’t do it, Tim. You can’t, not in cold blood.”
“I can.” Tim wasn’t sure this was the truth. What he did know for sure was that he didn’t want to find out. “Help me, Mrs. Sigsby. Help yourself.”
Nothing. And time was short. Annie wouldn’t tell the State Police which way they went; neither would Drummer or Addie Goolsby. Doc Roper might. Norbert Hollister, who had kept prudently out of sight during the Main Street shoot-out, was an even more likely candidate.
“Okay. You’re a murderous bitch, but I’m still sorry I have to do this. No three-count.”
Luke put his hands over his ears to stifle the sound of the gunshot, and that was what convinced her. “Don’t.” She held out her hand. “Give me the phone.”
“I think not.”
“Then hold it up to my mouth.”
Tim did so. Mrs. Sigsby muttered something, and the phone spoke. “Activation rejected. You have two more tries.”
“You can do better,” Tim said.
Mrs. Sigsby cleared her throat and this time spoke in a tone that was almost normal. “Sigsby One. Kansas City Chiefs.”
The screen that appeared looked exactly like the one on Tim’s iPhone. He pushed the phone icon, then RECENTS. There, at the very top of the list, was STACKHOUSE.
He handed the phone to Luke. “You call. I want him to hear your voice. Then give it to me.”
“Because you’re the adult and he’ll listen to you.”
“I hope you’re right.”
41
Almost an hour after Julia’s last contact—much too long—Stackhouse’s box phone lit up and began to buzz. He grabbed it. “Have you got him, Julia?”
The voice that replied was so astounding that Stackhouse almost dropped the phone. “No,” Luke Ellis said, “you’ve got it backward.” Stackhouse could hear undeniable satisfaction in the little shit’s voice. “We’ve got her.”
“What… what…” At first he could think of nothing else to say. He didn’t like that we. What steadied him was the thought of the three passports locked in his office safe, and the carefully thought-out exit strategy that went with them.
“Not following that?” Luke asked. “Maybe you need a dunk in the immersion tank. It does wonders for your mental abilities. I’m living proof. I bet Avery is, too.”
Stackhouse felt a strong urge to end the call right there, to simply gather up his passports and get out of here, quickly and quietly. What stopped him was the fact that the kid was calling at all. That meant he had something to say. Maybe something to offer.
“Luke, where is Mrs. Sigsby?”
“Right here,” Luke said. “She unlocked her phone for us. Wasn’t that great of her?”
Us. Another bad pronoun. A dangerous pronoun.
“There’s been a misunderstanding,” Stackhouse said. “If there’s any chance we can put this right, it’s important that we do so. The stakes are higher than you know.”
“Maybe we can,” Luke said. “That would be good.”
“Terrific! If you could just put Mrs. Sigsby on for a minute or two, so I know she’s all right—”
“Why don’t you talk to my friend instead? His name is Tim.”
Stackhouse waited, sweat trickling down his cheeks. He was looking at his computer monitor. The kids in the tunnel who had started the revolt—Dixon and his friends—looked like they were asleep. The gorks weren’t. They were walking around aimlessly, gabbling away and sometimes running into each other like bumper cars in an amusement park. One had a crayon or something, and was writing on the wall. Stackhouse was surprised. He wouldn’t have thought any of them still capable of writing. Maybe it was just scribbling. The goddam camera wasn’t good enough to make it out. Fucking substandard equipment.
“Mr. Stackhouse?”
“Yes. Who am I speaking to?”
“Tim. That’s all you need right now.”
“I want to speak to Mrs. Sigsby.”
“Say something, but make it quick,” said the man calling himself Tim.
“I’m here, Trevor,” Julia said. “And I’m sorry. It just didn’t work out.”
“How—”
“Never mind how, Mr. Stackhouse,” said the man calling himself Tim, “and never mind the queen bitch here. We need to make a deal, and we need to do it fast. Can you shut up and listen?”
“Yes.” Stackhouse drew a notepad in front of him. Drops of sweat fell on it. He mopped his forehead with his sleeve, turned to a fresh page, and picked up a pen. “Go ahead.”
“Luke brought a flash drive out of this Institute place where you were holding him. A woman named Maureen Alvorson made it. She tells a fantastic story, one that would be hard to believe, except she also took video of what you call either Ward A or Gorky Park. With me so far?”
“Yes.”
“Luke says that you are holding a number of his friends hostage along with a number of children from Ward A.”
Until this moment, Stackhouse hadn’t thought of them as hostages, but he supposed that from Ellis’s point of view…
“Let’s say that’s the case, Tim.”
“Yes, let’s say that. Now here comes the important part. As of now, only two people know Luke’s story and what’s on that flash drive. I’m one. My friend Wendy is the other, and she’s with me and Luke. There were others who saw it, all cops, but thanks to the queen bitch here and the force she brought with her, they’re all dead. Most of hers are dead, too.”
“That’s impossible!” Stackhouse shouted. The idea that a bunch of small-town cops could have taken out Opal and Ruby Red combined was ludicrous.
“Boss lady was a little too eager, my friend, and they were blindsided in the bargain. But let’s stay on point, shall we? I have the flash drive. I also have your Mrs. Sigsby, and a Dr. James Evans. Both of them are wounded, but if they get out of this, they’ll mend. You have the children. Can we trade?”
Stackhouse was dumbfounded.
“Stackhouse? I need an answer.”
“It would depend on whether or not we can keep this facility secret,” Stackhouse said. “Without that assurance, no deal makes any sense.”
A pause, then Tim was back. “Luke says we might be able to work that out. For now, where am I going, Stackhouse? How did your pirate crew get here from Maine so fast?”
Stackhouse told him where the Challenger was waiting outside of Alcolu—he really had no choice. “Mrs. Sigsby can give you exact directions once you reach the town of Beaufort. Now I need to talk to Ellis again.”