JACK KILBORN ~ ENDURANCE (24 page)

Felix sank back in his seat. Of the countless nightmare scenarios he’d dreamed up to explain Maria’s disappearance, none were this bad.

The car hit a hump, bouncing Felix and Cam. If only Cam had been on his right side, maybe he could have reached Felix’s handcuff keys in his jeans pocket. But Cam was on the left—the wrong side—and he wouldn’t be able to dig them out, not with the Sheriff eyeballing them every few seconds. And Felix had been stretching since the moment he got into the car, and his hands hadn’t even come close.

Not that it mattered. Even if the cuffs were off, the Sheriff was still armed. Assuming he and Cam could somehow get out of the cruiser, they wouldn’t get far.

The police car stopped. Felix’s brain popped and sizzled, trying to figure some way out of this mess. He glanced at Cam. Incredibly, the kid appeared peaceful, like he was going for a ride in the country.

What the hell is wrong with him?

“
We’re here, fellas. Don’t give me no troubl
e. I get angry, I start breakin’ things on y’all. You hear?”

The Sheriff got out of the car, gun in hand, and opened the door. Felix got out first, staring into woods so dark he felt like her was being swallowed. There was nothing around, far as he could see. When Cam exited the vehicle, the Sheriff took out a flashlight and marched them forward.

Out of nowhere, a gigantic house appeared. Made of logs, surround by tall trees on all sides. Not a single light was on.

Is this the Rushmore Inn?

“
The forest rangers don’t even know this place exits,” the Sheriff said. “Got some trees on the roof, so it can’t be seen flyin’ overhead. Every so often, hunter’ll stumble on it. We take care of ‘em.”

He marched them inside the heavy front door, closed it
behind him, and yelled, “Ma! I’m home!”

Felix looked around the room, awed by the decor. U.S. Presidents were everywhere. He was so floored by how odd it was that he almost failed to notice the large old woman lumbering toward them.

“
Good evening. I’m Eleanor Roosevelt. Welcome, gentlemen, to the Rushmore Inn.” She fussed with her hair, held in place by a white hairnet, then turned to the Sheriff. “Dwight? Why didn’t you tell me you were bringing guests?”

“
Sorry, Ma. This was last minute.” Dwight took off his cowboy hat and held it by the brim, looking solemn. “I’m afraid I got some bad news. These fellas here killed John.”

Eleanor blinked her bulbous eyes. “John? My John?”

“’
Fraid so. These are the ones I told you about a while ago. The ones looking for the girl. They shot John in the head. Like a dog, Ma. Nuthin’ I could do.”

“
Better than he deserved,” Cam said. “You people are scum.”

Sheriff Dwight hit Cam in the stomach, dropping him to his knees.

“
Mind my momma, boy.”

Eleanor
placed a hand on her chest. She moaned, a low, keening sound that grew higher and higher in pitch, like a fog horn.

“
There there, Ma.” The Sheriff patted her shoulder.

Eleanor stopped howling long enough to pull a handkerchief out of her robe pocket. She dabbed her eyes, but as far as Felix could tell they were already dry.

“
Get me some water to calm my nerves, Dwight. There’s a pitcher on the table.”

Dwight nodded, heading for the pitcher. Felix flexed his legs.

If he turns his back on me, I’ll run at the old woman and...

The n
ext thing he knew, Felix was on his knees, teeth clenched in agony. It felt like a pick axe hit him in the stomach. He stared up at Eleanor, who was now holding a stick she must have had hidden in her robe.

She touched the stick to Felix’s arm, and it hurt worse than if she’d branded it with a hot iron.

It’s a cattle prod.
But Felix was much more interested in the hand that held it. On Eleanor’s pinky.

A yellow diamond ring. Pear shaped.

Maria’s engagement ring.

She’s here! Maria is here!

“
Shame on you,” Eleanor said. “Shame on both of you. John was a good boy. A special boy. He wasn’t the brightest bulb in the cha
ndelier, but he loved his momma, and I had big plans for him.”

“
He was a rapist and a murderer,” Cam said.

Eleanor juiced him with the prod, and Cam cried out.

“
Not another word out of you, boy. Dwight! Where’s my water?”

“
Here it is, Ma.”

The Sheriff handed her a glass of rust-colored liquid, and she drank the whole thing, smacking her lips at the end.

“
Not much in the taste department, but wonderful for the nerves. Get my blood kit, Dwight.”

“
Got it already, Ma.”

“
Test ‘em.”

The Sheriff knelt down, poking Felix in the hip with something that stung. He did the same thing to Cam. Then he opened up a leather satchel and pulled out some vials of fluid.

He just took our blood samples. He’s going to test if we...

Jesus, who’s that?

A giant had come down the stairs. A giant with a gaping split in his face. He walked up to them and stared at Felix, flicking his tongue out through the hole in his nasal cavity.

“
Did you take care of the reporter, Harry?” Eleanor asked.

The giant nodded.

“
Where is he?”

“
Immmby av imm.”

“
Jimmy has him?”

He nodded again.

“
Good boy. You done your m
omma proud. Have you heard from Teddy yet?”

Harry shook his head. Eleanor sighed. “He’s probably fooling around again. Teddy is a lot like your father. That man was a rascal, never satisfied. Sometimes, your father would mount me four, five times a day.” Eleanor fanned her face with her palm.

The Sheriff walked over, holding two test tubes.

“
The older one, no,” he said. “But the younger one’s a match.”

Eleanor pointed at Cam. “Harry, show that one to his new room.”

“
Shouldn’t he take them both down, Ma?” The Sheriff crouched down on his haunches, staring at Felix. “I thought my kin could have a bit of fun with this one.”

“
There ain’t any place for him, Dwight. We’re overbooked as it is. Past capacity.”

“
We could double-up.”

Eleanor shook her head. “Not safe. When the guests are allowed to mingle, they get ideas about escapin’.”

The Sheriff grinned, and it was an ugly thing. Felix hadn’t noticed before that he had the tiny, rounded teeth of a child.

“
I’ll cut out his tongue,” The Sheriff said. “He won’t be minglin’ with nobody.”

Eleanor waggled a finger. “Don’t you dare get any blood on my Richard Nixon rug.”

“
So what do we do with him? Should I just take him out back, put one in the back of his head?”

The Sheriff made his hand into a gun, and pointed his index finger at Felix.

“
No. Give him to Ronald. He ain’t been fed proper in a while.”

“
Yes, Ma.”

The Sheriff hooked a hand under Felix’s armpit, pulling him to his feet.

“
And when you’re finished up, Dwight, help Grover up in the Grant bedroom. The old woman in there is the only one left.”

The Sheriff made a pouty face. “Aw, c’mon, Ma. I gotta get back to the office. I’m working tonight. Can’t Ulysses do it?”

“
Ulysses is towing a guest’s car.”

“
How about Millard or George?”

“
Millard is cleaning up a mess in the transfusion room. One of our permanent guests is holed up in there. She’s with a dog that bit George, pretty bad. Millard’s going to take care of it, soon as he gets dressed.”

Permanent guests?

“
You’re talking about Maria,” Felix said.

Eleanor cocked her head at Felix, then zapped him with the prod. Felix fell onto his knees again.

“
I wasn’t speaking to you,” Eleanor said. “But yes, I was talking about Maria. Big disappointment, that one. I had hopes for grandchildren, but the girl is barren as the Sahara Desert. But don’t you get your hopes up, young man. Millard is going to put the poor girl out of my misery. He’s very good at that. And it’s no loss for us. We have enough new blood to last us for the year.”

“
You... monster,” Felix said, bracing himself for another jolt.

But Eleanor didn’t prod him again. She just smiled.

“
Sometimes, people in power have to do distasteful things for the greater good. Throughout our nation’s history, our Presidents have had to do many things that could be considered unsavory. And before them, the kings that passed on their sacred blood line, often made sacrifices for the greater good. Being born to rule is a huge responsibility, and royalty has no need for morality.”

Then Eleanor stuck the cattle prod on Felix’s chest, pressing him to the floor, holding him there until his entire world was reduced to a blazing, pinpoint of pain.

“
Get him off my rug and feed him to Ronald,” Eleanor said. “Then go help Grover with the old woman.”

The Sheriff scratched his head. “Shit, Ma, it’s just an old lady. Grover can handle—”

Eleanor’s hand shot out, fast as a rattlesnake, slapping Sheriff Dwight across the face.

“
Dwight D. Eisenhower Roosevelt, don’t you swear in this house.”

The Sheriff looked at his shoes. “Sorry, Ma.”

“
Besides, you should never underestimate women of later years. They’re a lot stronger than you think.”

“
Yes, Ma.” The Sheriff hauled Felix to his feet once again. “This is the one that did John. You want to give him a horse whippin’? I can fetch it for you.”

“
It’s been a frightfully busy day, Dwight. I’m too gosh darn tired to horse whip anyone right now. Besides, Ronald will deliver a right proper punishment without me.”

The Sheriff nodded. “As you wish, Ma. And remind me before I go I got somethin’ for you in the car.”

Eleanor beamed. “Is it the Reagan/Bush ’88 banner I’ve been asking for?”

“
It sure is. Found one on Craigslist. Practically brand new.”

She touched the Sheriff’s red cheek. “Y’all are such a dear boy. When you get off work tonight, come knock on Momma’s door. She’ll show you how grateful she is.”

Eleanor ran her liver-colored tongue over her lower lip.

Felix winced.
I didn’t think this could get any more repugnant, and it just did.

The Sheriff set his cowboy hat on a cabinet, opened a drawer, and took out a mining hat. He perched that on his head, turned on the light.

“
Move it, boy. Lest I horse whip you myself.”

He prodded Felix out the front door, walking him into the woods. After being inside the house, the forest seemed even darker. Felix eyed the treeline, wondering how far he’d get if he made a run for it.

Best case scenario, I escape, return, and save Maria and Cam.

Worst case, I get shot. W
hich sounds preferable to being eaten by Ronald, whoever that is.

Then Felix felt the Sheriff grab the chain linking his wrists. Escape was no longer an option.

“
Straight ahead. Keep a’moving.”

He marched Felix through the trees
. They walked for several minutes, not following any particular path Felix could make out. The Sheriff’s head lamp constantly scanned the foliage in all directions. Like he was afraid of something sneaking up on him. And maybe he was.

They eventually reached an open clearing. The Sheriff’s light focused on…

A cave. With a metal pole sticking into the ground in front of the entrance.

And
scattered around the pole...

“
Jesus Christ,” Felix said.

There were bones. Human bones. Dozens and dozens of them, littered about like the aftermath of a plane crash. Skulls and rib cages and pelvises. Femurs and spines. Some dark with age. Some still with strips of bloody flesh clinging to them.

“
Shh,” t
he Sheriff whispered. “If Ronald is sleeping, you don’t wanna to wake him up.”

The Sheriff tapped Felix on the back of the head with his gun, trying to get him to move forward. Felix didn’t budge.

“
Move it, boy.”

“
No fucking way.”

Then Felix felt the Sheriff’s hand on his, grabbing three of his mangled fingers.

Oh, please no...

Felix heard the bones break before he felt them.

Snap snap snap.

Then the pain hit, making everything Felix had experienced that night pale by comparison.

He opened his mouth to scream, and just as it was leaving his throat the Sheriff forced something into his mouth.