RUNAWAY TWINS (Runaway Twins series #1) (6 page)

The girls kept to the
trees for the first mile or so after they left the lodge. They knew they had to stay off the road that led into the higher Bitterroots. With the snow abating, their footprints would be readily visible to the guards who would be driving the SUV carrying Justin to his doom.

The sky was clearing, but the temperature was falling; and the girls bent into the still howling wind as they left the tree cover and emerged on the powdery snow on the side of the road. They knew they were now making tracks, but they believed that this far above the camp, the guards would not be paying close attention. And besides, the wind was agitating the light powder, making close examination of footprints extremely difficult. They continued higher and higher, always listening carefully for the sound of the SUV that they knew would soon be close on their heels. They hoped that before long they would come to the sign Justin had described, the sign that would tell them to leave the road and head cross country toward the entrance to the mine.

Janie cried above the wind, “How far? How far have we come? How far did Justin say it was?”

“About six miles,” said Rachel. “I think we’ve come that far. Keep a sharp eye for a small tin sign nailed to a tree and for the trail through the woods.”

“Why isn’t there a road, if it’s a mine.”

“Maybe there was a road and it’s gone—covered with new growth. Or maybe a road goes to it from a different direction.”

The wind had let up and they were no longer shouting, but suddenly Janie screamed, “Look up ahead, on that tree. A sign, a tin sign. We’re there.” They raced toward the trail, but before they could reach the cutoff, they heard the sound of a large vehicle chugging up the road behind them.

“Off the road, Janie, quick—into the trees!” When they were safely out of sight, they saw the dark SUV creep slowly past them toward the sign. It then stopped and its lights went out.

“We’ve got to get to the mine before they do,” Rachel cried. “We can run through the trees on the side of the trail. They won’t be running, and Justin will be fighting them.”

“What do we do when we get there?” asked Janie.

“We go into the mine from the front corner so we don’t leave any obvious tracks and then make our way back to the pit. We’ve got the little flashlight.”

“What then?”

“I’ve got an idea. I don’t know if it’ll work. But we can try. I’ll tell you what I’ve got in mind when we get there. Let’s go!”

They ran desperately through the trees and brush, knowing they must arrive at the mine before Justin and the guards. Whatever slim chance they had of rescuing their friend lay in getting inside first.

As they ran, Janie called out breathlessly, “I hope your plan works.”

“It has to.”

The gaping mouth of the
mine was boarded over as Justin had told them, but the job had been done carelessly and there was enough room for Rachel and Janie to squeeze through the corner without disturbing the boards. And because the girls had approached from the side and had climbed over the stones piled high near the entrance, they were fairly certain they hadn’t left noticeable footprints.

Once inside, they halted and listened intently for indications that Justin and the two murderous security men were nearing the mine. There was silence outside, so they peeked through the spaces between the boards to see what they could see.

Nothing. No sights. No sounds.

“They’re taking their time,” said Janie. “We couldn’t have been that far ahead of them.”

“I’m sure Justin is slowing them down.”

“Let’s go,” said Rachel. “Get out the flashlight. Let’s head on back to the pit. I’ll explain what I have in mind.”

Even though his feet were
bound about ten inches apart, Justin dug his heels into the soft snow that covered the trail. He also twisted and squirmed and did everything else he could think of to slow his progress toward the mine’s entrance. He was determined to make the guards’ task as difficult as possible. He had no desire to be a cooperative victim, a willing participant in his own death. He wished he were bigger and stronger so he could put up more of a struggle.

“Fight all you want, kid,” said the bull-necked guard on Justin’s right. “It won’t do you any good. We’ll still get you into the mine, and we’ll still toss you into the hole.”

“Doesn’t it bother you that I’m just a boy?” Justin gasped, still battling with all his might.

“Why should it bother us?” said the second guard, an unshaven fat man with yellow teeth. “We do what the Prophet tells us. Flack wants you down the hole…down the hole you’ll go.”

Justin made an especially vigorous effort to break free and the bull-necked guard cuffed him across the back of the neck. “Cut it out, kid, or we’ll deal with you right here and carry you the rest of the way.” He chuckled at what he was considering and then added, “But I guess we won’t do anything premature. Flack wants you to go down that hole alive. He wants you to suffer—something about God’s will for bad boys….But Flack didn’t say anything about not causing you some extra pain before we get there. So keep it up, keep fighting us, see what happens.”

The yellow-toothed guard said, “Flack thinks you might survive the fall down the hole. That’s what he wants—worse for you down there if you’re still breathing. He likes the idea of you moaning and groaning down there. I think he’s wrong about the hole. I think you’ll die when you hit bottom, but we’ll see.”

“Some fine religion you’ve got,” said Justin.

“God’s ways aren’t our ways,” the guard said, laughing.

“I can believe it,” said Justin.

Deep inside the mine, near
the downshaft, Rachel had finished explaining her plan and now turned to Janie for her reaction.

“Everything will have to work perfectly,” said Janie. “One little hitch or hesitation on their part, or ours, and we’re dead.”

“I know.”

After kicking the boards away
from the entrance, the guards pushed Justin ahead of them into the long horizontal tunnel that led to the downshaft. Justin’s bound feet prevented him from maintaining his balance, and after the push he fell to his knees and refused to budge.

“Get up, kid, or else,” said the fat guard.

“Or else what?” Justin said. “Or else you’ll hurt me? We all know what’s in store for me, so do your worst.”

The men exchanged glances and then each reached down and grasped Justin under one of his arms. In this manner they scooped him to his feet and began to drag him forward toward his destruction. The flashlight that Yellow Tooth carried was not much larger than the one the twins had used, and the tunnel was, therefore, poorly lit as the trio trudged deeper into the mine. The shadows on the walls danced high and low in rhythm with the moving light.

Justin knew he was about to die an unpleasant death, a death the depraved J.J. Flack would find particularly satisfying when his minions reported back, but there was nothing Justin could do to prevent the inevitable. His life was over, and he now found himself thinking strange, mournful thoughts. He would never go to high school; he would never learn to drive a car; he would never have a girlfriend or a wife; he would never have children or grandchildren. Grandchildren? He stopped his thought processes abruptly. Grandchildren? Wasn’t that a bit over the top in the self-pity department? Imagine, feeling sorry for himself because he wouldn’t know his grandchildren. Ho! Ho! He forced his mind to disregard such thoughts, and he began to think about his father and his uncle and even the mother he couldn’t remember. Soon he would see all three of them. The thought calmed him, soothed him, gave him peace. He closed his eyes and went limp, essentially giving up his efforts to irritate and frustrate the guards. It was now time to concentrate on what lay ahead, not stubbornly cling to what remained behind. He cleared his mind and began to prepare for eternity.

A peculiar sound penetrated his thoughts. It was incongruous, a sound that didn’t belong in a dark mine deep in the Bitterroot Mountains. It was a low, soft cry—mournful, helpless, needy. It seemed to come from far away, from somewhere ahead of them, from below. There was a long silence, and then the sound began again, softer, farther away, mysterious.

“What was that?” the bull-necked guard said, pulling up abruptly. “Was that a human sound?”

“Could be an animal, wounded maybe,” said Yellow Tooth.

“Sounded human. Listen.”

But the sound had stopped, and when it didn’t resume after several minutes, Yellow Tooth shrugged. “Imagination.”

“No, it was something.”

“Let’s get on with it.”

But after they moved forward another twenty feet, the moaning began again. They were now within a hundred fifty feet of the pit, and both men halted and stared at each other in confusion. “The hole?” said Bull Neck. “Is it coming from the hole?”

Yellow Tooth flinched. “How could it? There’s no one alive down there…is there?”

“I don’t know. Listen.”

But again there was no sound.

Justin snapped to attention. What was happening? What had they all heard? What were the guards thinking? What were they so worried about? He raised his head and tried to pick up the sounds again, but there was nothing to hear—only silence.

“What’s going on?” asked Justin.

“Shut up, kid,” said Bull Neck.

They were now moving again, and they were getting closer and closer to the dark, black pit; but they still couldn’t see it, for it lay beyond a slight bend in the tunnel. Just before they reached the bend, they once again heard the crying, this time a plaintive plea, a supplication. “That’s human,” said Bull Neck. “And it’s coming from the hole.”

“Sounds like it,” said Yellow Tooth. “We’ll soon find out.”

They dragged Justin around the corner, and the three of them stood facing the foreboding downshaft that held so many evil secrets. There were now no more sounds. All was quiet, as if the person in agony had given up, at least for the time being. The men released Justin’s arms and pushed him aside. Then they advanced toward the pit, slowly, cautiously, until both stood on the lip of the hole, staring down into the inky blackness. “Nothing,” said Bull Neck.

“Shine the light over there,” Yellow Tooth instructed. The thin beam made little difference, and he shook his head. “Well, something or someone is down there…alive. Those cries didn’t come from the air. He leaned over the edge and called out, “Who’s there?”

Still no sound from the pit.

“Give me the flashlight,” Yellow Tooth said.

Bull Neck moved closer to his partner. “Just tell me where to point it. You see something?”

“There by the ledge, thirty, forty feet down. I might’ve seen something move. I’m not sure.”

“Where?”

Yellow Tooth pointed, and both men leaned forward to get a better view into the pit. At that instant, Rachel and Janie burst from their hiding place behind a long outcropping of rock along the wall to the rear of the guards. Janie raced straight toward Yellow Tooth on the left, and Rachel headed for Bull Neck on the right. Both men were balanced precariously over the edge, trying to figure out what was going on below. With arms outstretched and shoulders thrust forward, the twins rammed their targets simultaneously. The guards didn’t have a chance. The line of least resistance for them was forward and down, and they toppled over the edge like two sacks of flour on their way down the storage shoot. They didn’t go quietly. They screamed and cursed as if they couldn’t believe someone would do such a thing to them. And as their voices began to fade, they called on their God to rescue them. He didn’t respond.

“It worked,” Rachel shouted. As she spoke, she fell into Janie’s arms.

“I thought we were dead,” said Janie.

From the spot where he had fallen, Justin called out. “You will be if you don’t get over here and untie my hands and feet.”

“My uncle’s favorite word was
‘dumbfounded,’ and that’s the best word I can think of right now,” said Justin. “I’m dumbfounded by what you girls have done for me. Where did you come from? You’re like two angels sent to save me. What a wonderful, devious scheme. How’d you come up with it?”

“It was Rachel’s idea,” said Janie.

“Carried out to perfection by my terrific sister,” said Rachel.

“I thought you guys were still back at the camp. How’d you get away? How’d you get here first? I’ve got a million questions.”

They were still in the mine, sitting on the cold earth about twenty feet from the edge of the pit. For the next ten minutes Rachel and Janie explained how they had escaped from their room, journeyed up the mountain, run through the woods to stay ahead of Justin and the guards, and then lay in wait to execute their plan to lure the killers to their deaths.

“They deserved what they got,” said Justin.

“Maybe so,” said Janie, “but I hope I never have to do anything like that again.”

Rachel was holding the small flashlight, and she shone it on her own face to emphasize her expression. “I hated it, too. I still feel sick inside, but we had no choice.”

“I know one thing,” said Justin. “We’ve got to get out of here. It won’t be long till the other murderers come looking.”

The Prophet’s face was sweaty
and blotched and filled with hate and anger as he marched back and forth in front of his assembled believers. The failure of the twins to appear in the morning class session had at first irritated him; but as it became clear they were nowhere to be found, his irritation turned to fury. And he was now venting his rage on those who were supposed to watch over his brides-to-be.

Elder Mobly, who had been listening with his head down, now looked up and said, “I thought the girls were responding. I thought we were getting through to them.”

“Deception!” screamed the Prophet. “That boy ruined them. Deceit, disloyalty, deception—it’s all around me. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of you are working against me. Take my word that such traitorous actions will produce harsh punishments, very harsh punishments.”

Mobly said, “I don’t think anyone in this room would—”

The Prophet cut him off with a wave of his hand. “We shall see, believe me, we shall see. No one can interfere with God’s plan for our temple and escape punishment. God has personally come to me and revealed that from my loins will come two great world leaders—two boys, one from one twin and one from the other. These leaders will rule our congregation, then Montana, then the United States, and eventually the world. So now you can see why these girls are so vitally important to me. However, God said only that I would father these boys by a set of twins. He didn’t specify the girls’ names. So if Rachel and Janie Lemon aren’t the chosen ones, it means God has another set of twins in mind. Frankly, I hope this doesn’t turn out to be the case. But we shall see. Right now we’ve got to go out and find them.” He turned to his remaining security guards. “Call for help. Get the entire security staff up here. We’ve used people in Missoula before—get them up here, but only the ones we can trust.”

One of the guards said, “The twins’re probably on the road, trying to find a ride down the mountain.”

“Right,” said the Prophet. “Send out all the cars and vans. Find them.”

Mobly said, “They might stay off the road so we won’t see them. They might walk down through the trees.”

“Okay then,” the Prophet said nodding. “Scour the woods between here and the highway. Scour the road and the woods. Don’t let them make contact with outsiders. They’re on their way down the mountain, that much we know for sure.”

The back door had opened a few minutes earlier, and a squat man with a round face, oriental features, a small pointed chin, and the wisp of a scraggly beard stood listening to the Prophet’s harangue. His name was Chukchi Zeja. He was a Siberian whom everyone called Chuky, a friendly, happy name that in no way reflected his morose, dark personality. He’d joined the Sheba Hill Temple because he believed everything the Prophet said, and also because no one else in Montana would have anything to do with him. It was rumored he’d spent time in several Siberian prison camps for a wide variety of crimes, including murder, and had escaped to Alaska, Canada, and then the United States. He was the Prophet’s bodyguard and his enforcer. He carried out J.J. Flack’s blackest orders and always without question. Everyone in the congregation gave him the widest latitude, and besides Flack himself, Chuky had no friends.

“Not so,” he called out. “The twins don’t go down mountain. They go up.”

Flack motioned for his bodyguard to come join the group. Chuky complied, moving slowly across the room, his eyes darting left and right, as if he might be attacked at any moment.

Mobly spoke first. “Up? How could they go up? The only logical course is for them to go down the mountain—toward the highway.”

“They go up,” Chuky said.

Mobly and the rest of those assembled all looked doubtful, but the Prophet smiled patiently at the Siberian and said, “Please explain.”

Chuky pointed to the back door. “They go down the back stairs and up the logging road, except they go through woods so leave no tracks. I find. I follow.”

“How far?” asked Mobly. “Maybe they cut back somewhere in the trees and angled down toward the highway.”

“No cut back. Tracks go up, up, a mile through woods and then on logging road. Then up, up. I don’t follow. I come back here.”

Mobly said, “If they’re on the road then Karl and Brian will see them, pick them

up—” He stopped abruptly, apparently realizing not everyone in the room was aware of what Karl and Brian were doing high on the logging road.

The Prophet took over. “Yes, well, we’ll take a look at all of the possibilities. For now, we need to get our bearings.” He then dismissed most of the group and asked Mobly, another senior Elder, two guards, and Chuky to remain. When the main body had gone, he said, “The boy’s punishment doesn’t need to be advertised. He deserved everything he got, of course, but let’s keep it in this circle for now.”

Mobly nodded and stood silent.

“Now, Chuky,” said Flack, “Elder Mobly’s probably right, don’t you think? Karl and Brian should be heading down now. Won’t they find Rachel and Janie on the logging road?”

Chuky shrugged. “Maybe so, but why did twins go up in the first place?”

The large rock smashed through
the window of the SUV and landed in the driver’s side front seat. Justin reached through the jagged hole and unlocked the door. “I wish one of us could drive,” he said. “We’d take this truck down the mountain, roar past the camp and on down to the highway to Missoula.”

“We don’t know how to drive, and that’s that,” said Rachel.

“At least we can see what’s in here,” said Justin. “There’s got to be some stuff we can use. It’s tough and cold out here, and the higher we go, the tougher and colder it’ll get.”

“Couldn’t we go down?” Rachel asked, “if not on the road, then through the trees, away from the road.”

“That’s the first thing they’ll protect against,” said Justin. “They’ll expect us to go down. They’ll fan out and make it impossible for us. So we go up, not down, over the top and into Idaho.”

There wasn’t much of value inside the SUV, but they did find a small lightweight silver tarp, a bag of potato chips, and a partially eaten tuna sandwich.”

“Yech!” said Janie when she picked up the sandwich.”

“You’ll be glad we have it, believe me,” said Justin. He rubbed his face. “Not much help here. I was hoping for a cigarette lighter. But we’ll have to start our fires the old-fashioned way.”

They laid their stash on the hood of the SUV: Flashlight, sheathed hunting knife, chips, sandwich, silver tarp. The three young people stared at their treasures and exchanged smiles. “Lewis and Clark would think we’re crazy,” said Justin.

“Maybe we are,” said Janie.