Graverobbers Wanted (No Experience Necessary) (27 page)

   Screw the flashlight. I was going
uptherenow
.

   I gripped the ladder tightly and began to climb. It held my weight fine, and I made it to the top without breaking any bones. The attic was completely dark, except for a tiny bit of light streaming in from underneath some curtains. The window was only a couple of steps away from the ladder, so I carefully put my foot down on the attic floor. It seemed like it would hold me. I walked the two paces to the window, and pulled the curtains, filling the attic with light.

   It wasn't difficult to figure out what I was here to find.

   The attic looked like a zoo hitting hard times, loaded with cages but not enough animals to fill them. There were at least a dozen cages up here, but only four of them were occupied. And the inhabitants of these cages weren't animals—they were people. None of them were Theresa or Kyle.

   Bound and wrist and ankle by thick chains, the four prisoners suffered in cages barely large enough for a human. The captives seemed to be in their street clothes, except that their heads were completely covered with black leather masks, as if they were executioners who found themselves on the wrong side of the chopping block. The masks had openings over the nose, but no eye holes, and only a closed zipper over the mouth.

   I took a step forward. "Can you hear me?" I asked in a loud voice.

   There was an immediate reaction of writhing and muffled groans. I knelt down next to the first cage, which held a dangerously thin woman whose blouse was covered with dirt and mostly unbuttoned. I rattled the door of the cage, but a padlock held it shut. There were padlocks around her chains as well. Fortunately, the bars of the cage were far enough apart that I could squeeze my hand through. I put my hand on her shoulder, and the woman flinched as if my hand was an ice pick jabbing into her flesh.

   "It's okay," I whispered. "I'm here to help."

   A zipper ran up the back of her mask. I twisted my arm into a good position, and then slowly, so as not to startle her, I unzipped it all the way and slid the mask off her face. The zipper caught on her tangled, dirty blonde hair, but I removed it gently and let the mask fall to the floor.

   The woman squinted and let out a whimper as the light struck her eyes. There was an ugly bruise on her chin, but otherwise she seemed physically unharmed.

   "Who are you?" she asked.

   "My name is Andrew Mayhem. I'm going to get you out of here, I promise. But I need your help. Do you know who did this to you?"

   She shook her head. "There was more than one. I never saw any of them." Her voice grew frantic. "Please, you have to get me out of this place before they come back! They've come and taken away most of the others already! Please! I can't stand it anymore!"

   "I need you to calm down for me," I said, not raising my voice. "What's your name?"

   "Tracy."

   "Tracy, you'll be free before you know it. Now, what about the keys? Do you have any idea where they are?"

   She shook her head rapidly.

   "How long have you been here?"

   "I don't know...days...weeks...the mask never comes off. It was so hard to breathe. I thought I was going to die. They take us out of the cages sometimes, once a day, I don't know, and let us walk around for a few minutes. They shove some food down our throats, give us some water, yank down our pants and shove us on a bedpan, but then we're locked up again."

   "Would you recognize any of the voices?" I asked.

   "No. They never talk in front of us."

   "Okay, look, I don't have anything to cut the padlocks with, but I'm going to..."

   I stopped in mid-sentence as I looked across the attic and saw a wood-chopping axe lying on the floor. Either a forgetful lumberjack had been in the vicinity, or that was what I was meant to use.

   It seemed a little too easy. The killer had to have a surprise waiting.

   But I certainly couldn't leave these people here, so I made my way across the attic and retrieved the axe. It was a nice, solid tool, which I was happy to note was not covered with blood. I stopped at the nearest cage, which held a man who sat pressed against the corner.

   "I'm not going to hurt you," I said. "I'm going to take that mask
off
,then
I'm going to set you free."

   The man nodded. I reached inside, unzipped the mask from the back, and pulled it off him. The man's face was a bruised and bloody mess. I wondered if he'd put up a struggle when he was kidnapped, or if they'd done it afterward.

   "Thank you," he whispered.

   I removed the masks of the other two people. Their faces were in about the same condition
asTracy
's
—a bruise or two, but nothing serious. All four of them were from the coming attractions segment of the first video.

   I returned
toTracy
's
cage, lifted the
axe,then
brought it down as hard as I could upon the padlock on the cage door. The cage shook with a loud clatter, but the padlock remained in place. With the second swing, however, the padlock dropped to the ground and I pulled the door open.

   The locks on the chains were going to be more difficult because I could only raise the axe as far as the top of the cage. And since they were right next
toTracy
's
ankles and wrists, there was always the chance of a nasty accident.

   "Don't move," I told her.

   "I couldn't if I wanted to," she said.

   I slammed the axe down on the padlock binding her ankles, but it didn't break. I was too concerned about accidentally chopping off one
ofTracy
's
feet to hit it with full force. In theory, much worse things than losing a foot would happen if I didn't get the prisoners out of here in time, but I couldn't help trying to be careful.

   "Andrew?"

   I froze at the sound of the voice.

   "Andrew, are you here? It's me, Rachel!"

   For a few seconds I allowed myself to feel relief that I now had somebody to help me free the prisoners, but that was soon replaced with a sense of unease. After all, who had given me the location of the "taping" in the first place? Very possibly, I'd put my trust in the wrong person.

   "C'mon, Andrew, I know you're here! I saw your car out front!"

   How would she recognize Helen's car? I cautiously stepped away
fromTracy
's
cage, still holding the axe.

   "Andrew, talk to me! Are you here or what?"

   Her voice was closer. She was on the second floor now.

   There was silence for almost a full minute except for Rachel's footsteps. I eased my way over to the ladder, gripping the axe handle tightly with both hands, making sure I couldn't be seen from below. Then a flashlight beam shone on the ceiling.

   "What, are you hiding up in the attic? C'mon, I'm
notgonna
hurt you, for God's sake!"

   They'd done well so far, and I prayed the prisoners would continue to remain silent.

   "Okay, I'm coming up. Don't shoot me or anything, please."

   The ladder creaked as Rachel began to climb. I stood by the entrance, just out of sight, axe poised and ready to strike.

Chapter 21

    RACHEL'S LEFT hand came into view, and then her right hand, which was holding the flashlight as well as gripping the ladder. Then her head rose up above the entrance. Her eyes widened as she saw me holding the axe. "Whoa! Settle!"

   "What do you want?" I demanded.

   "Could you maybe put the axe down?"

   "I could, but I'm choosing not to."

   
"Fine, but could you promise not to hit me with it as long as I don't make any sudden moves?"

   "Sure."

   "Can I come up?"

   "I'd rather you didn't."

   "Suit yourself." She glanced over her shoulder and for the first time noticed the prisoners in the cages. "Oh my God..." she gasped
. "
Are these the people you were telling me about? Sorry, dumb question, but Andrew, we've got to get them out of here!"

   "That was my plan."

   Rachel sighed. "Okay, look, it's pretty obvious what you're thinking. But listen to me, Andrew—I had nothing to do with this! Nothing! And every second you waste not believing me is time that we should be using to set these people free!"

   "Why did you come here?" I asked.

   "To check the place out before the
taping.Nobody
lives here, so I figured I could look around beforehand."

   "Uh-huh. And how did you know it was my car?"

   "There were toys in the backseat. Nobody in Ghoulish Delights has kids, and it certainly wasn't out of the question that you'd show up here, so I took a guess. C'mon, Andrew, let's not risk the lives of these people just because you're being paranoid."

   "Okay," I said, stepping back as my stomach tightened at the mention of my kids. "You can come up."

   She climbed all the way into the attic. "So what's the situation?"

   "They're chained to the floor and I don't have the key. I'm going to have to use the axe to break them free."

   "Why don't you let me try it?"

   "Thanks, but no."

   "Oh, for God's sake, Andrew, are you saying you can't trust me with the axe?"

   "At this point I'm not really up to trusting anyone."

   
"
Goddammit
!"
shoutedTracy
from her cage.
"Give her the fucking axe so we can get out of here!"

   "Nobody asked your opinion," I informed her.

   "Okay, how about this?" Rachel pointed to the far end of the attic. "You walk over there and set the axe on one of the
cages
,then
you climb down the ladder to safety. That way I won't have a chance to chop your head off before I start bashing padlocks."

   I stared at her for a long moment. "Ah, screw it," I said, and handed her the axe.

   "Thank you." Rachel tested the axe's weight with both hands as she walked over
toTracy
's
cage. "I could have taken this from you in about two seconds, but I wanted to give you a chance to cooperate nicely."

   
"If you say so."

   "Don't move," Rachel
toldTracy
.
She took a practice swing in slow motion to make sure the axe was positioned
correctly
,then
brought it down hard, breaking the lock that held her ankles.

   "Oh, God, thank you!"
saidTracy
,
as Rachel positioned the axe to break the lock binding her wrists.

   "So did I miss any other developments?" asked Rachel.

   "The killer has my children."

   "What?"

   She finished
settingTracy
free, and I told her everything that happened since we'd last
met.Tracy
could barely walk, so I helped her move around the floor, working her arms and legs to get the blood flowing again. By the time I'd finished
thestory
,
two more prisoners were free, leaving only the man with the battered face.

   "One after the creation of the other," muttered Rachel. "What could that possibly mean?"

   "I have no idea," I admitted.

   "What kind of condom was it?"

   
"Trojan, I
think.Trojan
after the creation of the
mail.Mail
after the creation of the Trojan."
I
shrugged."
Doesn't
help."

   Or did it? What did the Trojans create? I only remembered about .007% of what I'd learned in history class, but I did recall the story of the Trojan horse.