Double Blind (40 page)

Sam stepped toward him, her gun never wavering from his chest. “To talk with Morgan. See if I can resolve this without anyone getting killed.”

“If he hurts Conner, I’ll kill him.”

“That’s what I’m trying to prevent.”

“What about the CBI?” Wade asked.

“That’s between you, Burt, and them. And Morgan. But, I would suspect cooperation would be better than digging yourself a deeper hole by killing someone.”

Wade glanced at Burt, and then back to her. “I don’t see any harm in you talking with him. Maybe he’ll give this up.”

“Maybe,” Sam said. She motioned to Billy. “Let’s go.”

“He stays here,” Burt said.

Sam looked at him. “I don’t think so. He goes with me.”

They walked past Burt to the mine entrance. Sam peered inside, but saw only an impenetrable blackness.

“Morgan,” Sam shouted. “It’s me, Sam. Billy and I are coming in.”

“OK.” Morgan’s voice, deep and gravely, rumbled from the mine. “Walk straight ahead. Stay along the right side. Near the wall.”

Sam stepped into the mine; Billy followed. The air was cool and thick with the musty scent of damp rock. Her boots scraped against the gritty floor and she heard the plink of dripping water somewhere in the darkness ahead. She jumped when a drop fell against her cheek.

Billy touched her shoulder. “There,” he said.

She squinted and then saw a dim glow, interrupting the darkness along the right wall a hundred feet ahead. “Morgan?” Sam said.

“You’re doing fine,” Morgan said. “Keep coming.”

She saw a shadow move within the faint patch of light, and then Morgan stepped out in front of them.

“In here,” he said and directed them into the side shaft where he had lived for two months. A gas lantern sat in the middle of the floor and cast a feeble light. Conner lay on the tarp in one corner, his hands tied behind his back.

“You OK?” Sam asked.

“I will be,” Conner said. “If you can get me out of here.”

Sam turned to Morgan. His square jaw, thick brows, and unruly black beard, contrasted with his deeply blue, sad eyes. His foul breath burned her nose.

“Are the State Patrol guys coming?” Morgan asked.

“Should be here in half an hour. More or less.”

Sam noticed two pairs of boots lying near the wall. Both had tears down the sides where the leather had ripped loose from the soles. One had windows cut through the toe box. She nodded toward them. “Those the boots you took from Varney’s?”

“Yeah,” Morgan said. “I kept outgrowing them. The process...this process...” He spread his hands open. “It’s accelerating. In the past few weeks, the changes have been more dramatic than the previous three months combined.”

Sam took his hand. The skin over his palms and fingers was thick and calloused. The hair wiry and stiff. “We’re here to help,” she said.

“What’s your plan?” Billy asked.

“I want to trade Conner for Burt.”

Sam released Morgan’s hand. “You can’t harm Burt. I won’t be a part of that.”

“I’m not going to do anything to him. God knows I’d love to, but all I want is to force him to tell the truth.”

“And you’ll turn yourself over to the CBI?” Sam asked.

“Yes. I’ll take my punishment, whatever a jury decides that might be. But I won’t let Burt walk free. No way.”

Sam looked into Morgan’s eyes. “We have a problem here.”

“What’s that?” Morgan asked.

“It’s like this, you believe you’re dying. Why would you fear a judge and jury? Why wouldn’t you kill Burt?”

“I don’t want his life. I want his freedom. I want him to live in a box the rest of his life. Like here.” He waved his arm. “Like the lab I was confined to for over a year.”

Sam sighed. “OK. I’ll see if he’ll swap places with Conner.”

“Tell him he’d better. I will kill Conner if I have to. As you said, I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“Dr. Locke said you could be helped with a surgical procedure,” Billy said.

Morgan smiled, revealing yellowed teeth. “No, I can’t.”

“But...”

“They can remove my pituitary, maybe stop the process, but this is how I’ll be.” He opened his arms and shrugged. “I can’t live like this. I’m a freak.”

“But, you’ll be alive,” Sam said.

“Sam, there are things worse than death.”

*

Burt paced back and forth, his gaze focused on the mouth of the mine. He had to get Conner out of there. Once his son was safe, he would think of some way to end this. Some way to win. He always did and this situation would be no different.

“What the hell are they doing in there?” he said.

“Relax,” Wade said. “Maybe they’re talking him into giving up. He doesn’t really have much choice.”

Burt whirled on him. “Really? I don’t see it that way. All he has to do is stall until the State Patrol officers arrive. What happens then?”

Wade stared at him, but said nothing.

Burt stepped close to Wade and spoke softly. “We have to end this before they get here.”

“Maybe we should just give it up,” Wade said.

Burt’s jaw tightened and he spoke between clenched teeth. “If Morgan lives, we’re fucked. Big time fucked.” He looked at Eloy, and then Hollis. “All of us.” He turned toward the mine as Sam stepped out.

“Here’s the deal, Burt,” she said. “Morgan wants to trade Conner for you.”

Thank you, Morgan, he thought. For solving the first part of my problem. “He’ll kill me,” Burt said.

“No, he won’t. Not that I’d blame him if he did.”

“Why do you say that? He’s the killer.”

“Burt, give it up. I know the whole story. The secret research. Your little hunting party.” She looked at Wade. “And the evidence you faked.”

Burt glared at her and jerked his head toward the mine. “And you believe him? Can’t you see his brain is fried from what he did to himself.”

“A judge and jury can decide that. Right now, I’m trying to save your son.”

“And me? Let Morgan do what he wants to me, I suppose?”

“I doubt he wants to kill his ‘Get Out of Jail’ card.”

Burt dropped his gaze to his feet and arranged his face into a look that he hoped portrayed deep thought. Had he played it up enough? Had he convinced her that he was afraid of Morgan? That he didn’t really want to go into the mine?  He looked back up at Sam. “OK.”

She walked to the mouth of the mine and shouted. “We’re coming in.”

Burt turned his back to her and spoke softly to Hollis. “When Conner comes out, take him out of here. Get down to the truck and go home.” He nodded toward Wade and Eloy. “We’ll take care of everything up here.”

“What about the state boys?” Hollis whispered.

Burt offered a grim smile. “Maybe there won’t be anyone for them to talk to. And no bodies to find.” He turned and walked toward Sam. “Let’s go.”

Sam stood at the entrance to the mine, motioned for Burt to turn around, and then patted him down. “No funny business. OK?”

He nodded. “I just want Conner out of there.”

She stepped aside and waved her hand. “After you.”

Burt stepped past her; she fell in behind. They moved deeper into the pitch-black mine until she said, “Just ahead. Turn right where you see the light.”

They entered the side shaft where Morgan stood behind Conner, one hand on the back of the boy’s neck. Billy leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Sam moved to his side.

Morgan let go of Conner and gave him a gentle shove toward his father. Burt and Conner embraced.

“Thank God, you’re all right,” Burt said.

“I am now.”

Burt released his embrace. “Now get out of here.” He nudged Conner toward the exit.

“What about you?” Conner asked, rubbing his wrists.

“I’ll be OK. Hollis is outside. He’ll take you home.”

Conner shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere until I’m sure you’re OK.”

Burt cradled his son’s face in his hands. “You go home. I’ll be there soon.”

“But...”

“But, nothing. Get going. It’ll be fine.”

Conner took several steps, hesitated, turned and looked back at his father. He started to say something, but fell silent.

“Go ahead,” Burt said.

Conner nodded, stepped into the main shaft, and turned toward the entrance.

Morgan moved closer to Burt, his massive fists clenched at his side. Sam tensed, half expecting Morgan to attack, but he stopped, glaring at Burt from ten feet away. The gas lantern sat on the floor between them. Its dim glow emphasized the hostility etched on each man’s face. Sam could see the pulsating tension in Morgan’s jaw and could almost feel his anger, expanding with each heave of his chest.

“Still making promises you can’t keep, I see,” Morgan said.

“What do you mean?”

“Everything will be OK?” Morgan laughed. “I don’t think so. You can’t buy your way out of this one, Burt.”

Burt looked up at Morgan. “Now what?”

“None of your Goddamn business. This is one show you aren’t running. I am.”

Burt looked from Morgan to Billy to Sam. “Isn’t this cozy? The three co-conspirators here in one place.”

“Co-conspirators?” Sam said. “I think you and Hollis and Wade would fit that description. Maybe Eloy, too.”

“Who do you think the State Patrol will believe?” Burt said.

“I guess we’ll find out soon.”

“We will indeed.”

Sam looked at Burt. “Why, Burt? Is the money worth all this?”

“What money?”

Sam glared at him. “I told you, I know everything, so don’t play games.”

Burt shrugged. “A couple of billion dollars is a fairly strong motivator, don’t you think?”

Sam shook her head. “You’re amazing.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment, Burt. It’s your greed and complete lack of morals that’s amazing.”

“But I usually win.”

“Maybe not this time.”

Burt shrugged. “Or, maybe I already have.”

Suddenly, Burt reached down and grasped the lantern’s wire handle and hurled it against Morgan’s chest. Its glass chimney shattered and liquid fuel spewed over Morgan’s clothes, beard, and face. An explosion of fire enveloped the huge man.

Morgan screamed and swatted at the flames, spinning as the fire embraced him. Billy snatched up the tarp that lay in the corner and hurled it over Morgan. Sam caught one edge of the canvas and wrapped it around Morgan’s thick chest. The flames leapt from beneath the tarp, blistering his face, He coughed and wheezed with each breath as the fire attacked his lungs.

“Get down,” Sam shouted, dragging Morgan to the floor.

Billy grabbed the sleeping bag and joined in Sam’s efforts to extinguish the flames. Acrid smoke filled the room.

The flames diminished, then died, plunging the room into darkness. With the last flicker of light, Sam saw Burt move toward the exit. Don’t let him get away, she thought. If he did, they had no leverage. They would be trapped.

She tried to lock on the sound of his footsteps and lunged forward as would a linebacker after a runner. Her arms closed on nothingness and she slammed into the rocky floor. She heard Burt scurrying away, toward the mine’s exit.

Sam crawled across the floor, sweeping her hand before her. “Where’s that flashlight I saw?” She collided with a wall, and then worked her way along it. She could hear Morgan moaning and Billy attempting to comfort him. Her hand bumped against the flashlight. She grabbed it, turned it on, and moved to where Morgan lay.

His beard and hair were reduced to dark, smoldering stubble. The flesh of his face, neck, and chest was red and raw. Large charred patches of skin hung from his jaws and arms. His breathing was wet, raspy and his tongue protruded between blackened lips. He spoke in a whisper. “Get out…now.”

“Not without you,” Sam said.

Morgan coughed, deep, wet. “I’m not…going to…make it,” he said, his voice weak, each breath a rattling wheeze. “The fire…my lungs.” His words came out like coarse sighs. He raised an arm and pointed toward the main mine shaft. “That way. Deeper…into…mine. Three…lefts. Then…straight. Old Watkin’s…Mine.”

“Come on,” Billy said, tugging at Morgan.

“Leave me,” Morgan said.

“But…” Sam began.

“No,” Morgan gasped. “Go…now. If you…don’t…make it…all was…for…nothing.”

They heard footsteps approaching. Sam pulled her gun, pointed it out toward the main shaft, and fired twice. “That’ll give them something to think about.”

An object flew past her head and landed at Billy’s feet. The footsteps retreated toward the mine’s entrance. They looked down, stunned, momentarily frozen. Dynamite. The fuse hissed and spit as its fire crept toward the stick. Billy snatched it up and yanked the fuse out.

“Run,” Morgan said. “You…won’t get…another chance.”

Billy took the flashlight from her hand. “Follow me.”

They stepped from the alcove and looked toward the entrance. Two silhouettes stood in the mouth of the mine. A match flared.

Sam turned and ran, following Billy into the black depths. The beam from the flashlight Billy held danced wildly ahead of them. The uneven floor caused her to trip and stumble, but fear pushed her forward.

The explosion hit her without warning. A blast of hot air and rock and dust propelled her off her feet. The sound was deafening and her ears screamed a high-pitched whine in protest. Momentarily airborne, she slammed to the hard rock floor with such force that air erupted from her lungs. Her gun flew from her hand. Billy landed near her. Hard. The flashlight shattered, dropping them once again into complete darkness. Chunks of rock fell from the walls and roof and slammed into the floor around them.

Buried alive. We’re going to die right here under tons of rock.

But no more rocks fell.

She struggled to her feet, hacking and coughing. “Billy?” she gasped. “You OK?” Her own voice sounded distant, tinny.

“Yeah. Get going.”

Sam could see nothing. Not Billy, not the floor, not even the wall she flattened her hand against. It was like being blindfolded in a dark room.

“Follow the wall,” Billy said. “Left side. Go. Go.”

His chest pressed against her, urging her forward.

She trailed her hand along the wall and stumbled ahead, her feet tripping over the rocks that now littered the floor. The dust and grit filled air tore at her lungs. The ringing in her ears intensified and a sharp pain lanced into her left ear. She coughed and sputtered, but kept moving.