The Edge of Ruin (31 page)

“Where do they sleep?” Dagmar asked.

“Air mattresses,” Cross answered.

I shook my head. “No, bunk beds. We might be able to house more people that way. If it comes to that. I’m still hopeful that Eddie and the other scientists are going to find a way to free Kenntnis,” I said while Dagmar scribbled in her Palm.

“The rest of the floors are pretty much the same, so we can skip them,” Cross said and led us back to the elevators. When we reached the lobby, Joseph was waiting. He nodded a greeting.

“Show Richard the security setup,” Cross ordered.

The chief of security crossed to the circular reception desk, murmured an apology to Paulette, and reached down by her right leg. “Sorry, not getting fresh,” Joseph said.

“Oh, please, get fresh,” Paulette replied. She had a lilting French accent. The long lashes brushed the tops of her high cheekbones, and the tip of her tongue lightly touched her lower lip.

Joseph grinned at me. “Does that count as sexual harassment?”

“Do you want me to stop her?” I asked.

“Hell, no,” Joseph said, and we all shared a laugh.

There was a loud click followed by the quiet hum of motors, and heavy steel panels came rolling up out of the floors and sealed the windows. Within seconds the lobby was plunged into darkness. Halogen spots in the ceiling switched on.

“These can be keyed from a number of locations in the building,” Joseph said. “Your office, my office, the penthouse, and on the third floor.”

Cross piped up. “You know how we’re tucked in among the boulders. Well, anyplace we don’t have big rocks to protect us, steel and concrete barricades have come up to keep any mad bombers away.”

“Every window is sealed?” I asked.

“Yes,” Joseph said. “But there are pumps and scrubbers to pull in outside air.”

“And what happens if someone cuts the power? It’s going to get pretty dark and hot or cold, depending,” I said. The thought of being sealed in here, away from the touch and sight of the sun, had my claustrophobia jumping.

“The roof, the south wall, and the west wall are covered with solar panels. We also have battery storage for night and during cloudy weather as well as diesel generators,” Joseph concluded.

“So we should go down there now,” Cross said.

Back in the elevator Cross touched the button for the swimming pool. One level below the garage. The elevator doors opened, and the light from the halogen spots danced on the gently swaying surface of the pool.

“Not just a swimming pool … water storage. There used to be big cisterns down here,” Cross said. “But Kenntnis knew you liked to swim, so he had this built. He figured we could store the water this way.”

I was stunned and oddly warmed by the thought that Kenntnis had put such effort into my comfort. “When did this get built? I’ve only known you people for three months.”

“Right after Thanksgiving. It only took a couple of weeks. Enough money and you can get anything done.”

Dagmar walked to the edge of the pool, leaned down, and trailed her fingers in the water. She stood up and shook the droplets of water off her fingers. “I have to ask, if this is meant to be a water source, aren’t the chemicals going to be a problem?”

“The water purification system is in the next room.”

“How do we replenish the water if the city’s water system goes down?” I asked.

“We’ll get to that. Let’s finish the building first,” Cross said.

He led us through the room holding the purification system. The next room housed the backup generators. Cross pointed at another door. “That room has stockpiles of diesel, gasoline, and replacement solar panels. Do you want to see it?”

“I better. Let’s make sure they’re actually there.”

“Taking that definition of assumption a little too much to heart, aren’t you?” Cross asked.

“No,” I said.

The room did indeed contain the promised fuel and panels. We traipsed back past the pool, and through a door at the opposite end. The rooms held vast stockpiles of food.

“Okay, now the cafeteria and industrial kitchen make sense,” I mused.

“Okay, next level.”

Cross fished a key out of the front of his sweatshirt, inserted it in the lock in the elevator, and sent us down another floor. “Kenntnis didn’t want any kids wandering in here.” He looped the chain and key over my head. “Here, it’s yours now.”

We stepped out into an armory. The collection of weapons ranged from TOW missiles and M-16s and grenades to spears and bows and arrows and swords. The accompanying ammunition, both low and high tech, was also present.

“
Mein Gott
,” Dagmar whispered.

The room to the left was a training gym stocked with weights, aerobic machines, and the accouterments necessary for gymnastics. Fencing masks and padded vests hung on one wall. On the other side of the armory there was an indoor laser shooting range.

“So we don’t waste ammo,” I murmured as I picked up the pistol and sighted down the barrel. “Damn, he thought of everything. Is that it?”

“Nope. Now we go outside.”

We rode the elevator up to the lobby, and Cross led us out the back door. We walked past his packing-box shelter, squatting like a wart against the clean steel and glass lines of the building. Boulders and concrete retaining walls were only a few feet away. Cross turned and looked like he was walking directly toward the rocks, and then he disappeared. When I got close enough I spotted the narrow opening between boulders. The passageway extended about six hundred feet, and the rocks towered ten feet above my head.

Suddenly the terrain opened up into a narrow box canyon. Buffalo grass, brown now from winter’s grip, crackled under the soles of my shoes. At the far end of the canyon was a small grove of cottonwood trees: five aspens swayed softly in the wind. With their smooth white bark the aspens were like slender dancers swaying among the hoary gray of the cottonwoods. The trees signaled the presence of water.

We walked the length of the canyon. The rock walls to either side had deep overhangs, and I saw score marks that indicated the rocks had been cut away to make a deeper cleft. Livestock sheds were tucked in underneath on one side, and a huge stack of hay was protected by the rock on the other. In one area there was a riding arena complete with a few jumps.

I started counting my steps, and my best guess was that we had walked almost a mile before we passed out of the bright sunlight into the barred shadows of the winter-bare limbs of the trees. I heard the tinkle of water falling into water. I hurried forward and found an artesian spring in the center of the grove. Water, silver bright, welled up from a cairn of rocks and spilled into a large metal cistern. There was a capped pipe in the bottom.

Bending down, I cupped a hand beneath the water, and gasped as the intense cold stung my palm. I braved a sip and felt a sharp pain behind my eyes from the chill. It tasted sharp and wonderful.

“We pop off the cap and replenish the swimming pool,” Cross said.

“Is there enough water here for crops?” Dagmar asked. She looked around the canyon. “Not that we could grow much here.”

“Not crops, just livestock, and that includes the human variety,” Cross said. He showed his teeth in a smile. “Just joking.”

I made a slow 360-degree turn, evaluating the canyon. “Dagmar, I think I know why, aside from your obvious brilliance, you’re Lumina’s COO.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“You were a dressage rider. Dressage arose out of mounted warfare.” I pointed at the shed row. “I’m betting these are here for horses. You probably ought to buy us some.”

“Horses,” Dagmar murmured as if the word were alien.

“Look, if things get real nuts, gasoline is going to get scarce,” Cross said. “And a car won’t work when there’s powerful magic or a powerful Old One around. We’ll only be able to keep one running—the one
he’s
riding in.” Cross pointed at me. “And that’s only if he’s got the sword drawn. Let’s just hedge our bets, okay? Any more questions?” Cross asked, and I realized that blue-gray shadows were creeping across the grass. Beyond the rock walls of the canyon the sun was almost down.

“Yeah, one. Where do we park the planes and how do we keep them flying?” I asked.

“We own a big hunk of mesa to the north. The runways are dirt ’cause we didn’t want to raise too many flags by starting a big permitting fight. And there are cisterns of jet fuel buried on the property.”

We returned to the office and watched while New Mexico treated us to one of its spectacular sunsets. The rounded cones of the Three Sisters, extinct volcanoes, looked like the backs of broaching blue whales silhouetted against a riot of gold, crimson, purple, and blue. Well, at least the two humans stared in silent appreciation. Cross ate through a jar of mixed nuts that he found in the bar. Pamela walked in.

“Hey, she didn’t get announced,” Cross said in a tone that was both triumphant and accusing.

My sister gave him a puzzled, irritated look. “What?”

I waved it away. “Never mind. Hey, guess what, I’m Bruce Wayne.” This time I got the look. “Batman,” I amplified.

“Nah,” Cross said. “You’re that wimpy Peter Parker.”

“Who?” Pamela asked.

“Spider-Man,” Cross and I said in chorus.

She rolled her eyes. “Dinner is almost ready.” Cross jumped up and tossed the empty jar into the trash with a long throw like a basketball player giving a “score” pump with his arm. “Oh, I invited Weber,” she added casually.

I stopped midstep and looked at her erect back.
Well, that was interesting.
I tried to picture them as a couple. I tried not to be depressed. I told myself I was just trying to protect her.

“He’s married. Separated, but they haven’t gotten a divorce,” I said.

“Good God, Richard, must you try to make everything into a romance?” she said. “He called, wanting to see you. He said he tried you on your cell, but you didn’t answer.”

I pulled out my cell phone and found his message as we rode up to the penthouse. “Guess there was no reception in the canyon,” I said lamely, but I felt absurdly pleased.

Eddie was slumped on the sofa with his laptop and headphones. We walked past him and into the kitchen, where Grenier was inspecting a bottle of wine. “Ah, good, someone to open this. I think a Malbec with pork loin.” Dagmar went to help him.

Amazing aromas were issuing from beneath the silver tops of the chafing dishes. I hadn’t realized I was starving until that moment. And then Weber came in. I moved forward with my hand out, but he ignored the handshake, grabbed me in a rough hug, and then pounded me on the back.

“So, you couldn’t set ’em straight?” he said.

“Nope. Looks like it’s back to us, but I’ve got some ideas.”

Eddie wandered in. “Is it dinner yet?”

Grenier was handing out glasses of wine. I was feeling expansive. I took one. Weber and Eddie were introduced. Weber took a sip of his wine, then looked around with a questioning expression.

“Where’s Angela?”

The buzz of conversation died. Pamela answered, “She came home. Three days before we did.”

“Then why didn’t she call me?” Weber asked.

I dropped my eyes. “We …” I coughed and continued. “We had a little … disagreement.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why she wouldn’t call me,” Weber said. “And she hasn’t been in the office. I know because I watched an autopsy yesterday. Jeff was still handling things.”

I set down the wineglass, and was startled when the stem snapped. Wine flowed across the granite countertop and began to drip onto the floor. Pulling out my phone, I dialed her home number. It rang and voice mail picked up.

“Angela, it’s Richard. Are you there?” Silence. Next I tried her mobile. It went to voice mail on the first ring. “Her cell’s been turned off.”

We all just looked at each other.

And deep inside me a murmur of fear and guilt became a shout.
I sent her away. I sent her away, I sent her away. And I didn’t arrange to protect her.

R
ICHARD

“
W
e better hope she’s
not
in there,” Syd said.

We were back at Bob Franklin’s house. This time the warm smell of roasting turkey and garlic mashed potatoes had replaced the smoky bite of gumbo, and this time there were no spouses and kids. Just agents. The only additions were Grenier and Damon. There was no way Weber would have stayed behind. Grenier hadn’t wanted to come, but I’d threatened him.
I wonder if he still likes the man I’ve become
, I thought.

My gut told me they had taken Angela to Grenier’s compound, so I wanted him here to give us advice about entering the place. Danny had been running through satellite images to try to turn my hunch into a certainty.

“They’ve set up a perimeter of marines called in from Quantico. Nobody gets in,” Franklin amplified.

I shook my head. “Not true. There’s one group they’re sure as hell going to let in. There’s a team arriving from the Vatican. They’re going to perform an exorcism.”

Grenier paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “Are you seriously suggesting that we put on dog collars and traipse out in fancy dress to confront monsters and rescue the damsel?” His tone held a sneer. I guessed I hadn’t been forgiven.

“Hey, those dress thingies can hide a boatload of guns,” Sam broke in with delight.

She was the only woman present, and she stood out like a lily in the middle of a redwood forest. All the agents were
big
. The only other woman in the house was Franklin’s wife, Michelle, who had set out the food and disappeared. She didn’t seem real happy to have us back. I couldn’t blame her.

“Uh, Sam, I think this is going to have to be a stag party,” Weber said.

“And remember, guns won’t work,” Franklin reminded her.

Sam’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she finally said, “Well, crap.”

Cross mopped up gravy and cranberry sauce with a crescent roll, and then stuffed the entire dripping mess into his mouth. He mumbled around the doughy glob, “Well, that might not be strictly true. They might work if the sword was nearby and drawn.”