Waking Lazarus (31 page)

Odum laughed. ‘‘Well, well, an amateur psychologist. Actually, if you’ll take a peek in the back, I think you’ll see I made a stop on the way here.’’

Yes, Kristina was quite a surprise. Jude still hadn’t figured out how or why she was involved in this whole mess, but he was quite sure the answer was about to be revealed to him. The answer, about to be revealed. Revelation. He smiled humorlessly. Those were nice, prophet-like words; Kristina would love them.

Jude reluctantly looked at Kristina in the rearview mirror. This time she returned his gaze, then slowly gave him a level shake of her head. She tilted her head to her right, indicating something on the seat next to her. Jude turned to look in the backseat, and saw what she was indicating: a shovel.

‘‘The shovel?’’ Jude asked, a bit bewildered. ‘‘You mean the shovel?’’

Odum snorted. ‘‘Of course I mean the shovel. Best they sell at Renton’s Hardware. It’s a little surprise for you, a lovely parting gift, as it were.’’

Jude focused his attention on the road ahead, watched the headlights tracing a path along the gravel roadway. ‘‘A parting gift?’’ he said.

‘‘I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to dig in these woods, Mr. Gress,’’ he said. ‘‘Difficult. Lots of roots.’’

Jude continued to watch the road and stayed silent.

‘‘I think you’re starting to see,’’ Odum said, ‘‘that I don’t really like to dig. And maybe you’re also starting to see why I haven’t shot you yet.’’

Jude could tell Odum was looking his way more and more now, getting excited as he talked.

‘‘How tall are you, Mr. Gress?’’

‘‘Just under six feet.’’

‘‘Then a six-foot hole is what you’ll be digging, if you get my drift.’’

Jude got the drift. Got it just fine.

Rachel let the memories of her CPR training take over. She checked Bradley’s airways, tilted his head back, put her mouth over his, and exhaled.

‘‘Mom? Is . . . is Bradley okay?’’ Nathan’s voice sounded pinched, strained. She could tell this was scaring him, but there was no way around it. She needed to get Bradley breathing again. Rachel did the chest compressions, then stopped and placed her ear over Bradley’s mouth again.

‘‘Mom? I’m—’’

‘‘Sweetie, Mommy needs to concentrate right now, okay?’’ Still no breathing from Bradley. Tilt the head, three breaths.
This is like Jude
, her mind told her. Jude Allman, the guy who was famous for dying. And wasn’t it ironic that it would all come to a scene like this?

Rachel moved to the chest compressions and, under her hands, suddenly pictured Jude. It was Bradley she was bringing back to life, of course, but her mind told her it was also Jude. That was her purpose, her reason.

Still no breathing. Nothing.

She exhaled more breaths into Bradley’s mouth. How long should she keep this up? How long could Bradley go without breathing before he had some brain damage?
Like his mother
, she thought quickly, then pushed the thought from her mind. Three minutes was the figure that came to her mind. Three minutes. Had it been that long?

She went to the compressions again, and now she could hear Nathan starting to sob and lose control. But when she looked at Nathan, she dimly realized he wasn’t the one sobbing. It was her; she was hearing herself bawling, losing control.

As she held her head over Bradley’s mouth, listening, watching, her body betrayed her. The sobs became huge, wracking gasps that made her convulse. It was as if, in willing Bradley to breathe, just breathe, her own body wanted to suck in more air. But her body also wanted to shut down.

She collapsed her head on Bradley’s chest. It couldn’t happen like this. It
couldn’t
. She couldn’t come all this way, do all this, only to lose Bradley. She had promised Nicole.

Rachel felt Nathan’s small hand on her back, rubbing. She turned and hugged him tightly again, letting herself cry. The image of Jude crying in Nathan’s arms came to her mind, and she realized now that she’d been lying to herself all along. She was disturbed that Jude hadn’t come to her and shared his problems, but she now saw that she wasn’t the strong one in her family. It was Nathan who was strong, Nathan who gave the comfort. Nathan who was the center.

‘‘It will be okay,’’ she heard Nathan say. But she heard another voice say it in unison—a deeper, more resonant voice. Her internal voice of God. She realized her son, like the voice, was a gift from God. Her son. Her center.

‘‘
Don’t be afraid
,’’ God’s voice and her son’s voice told her at the same time. And she wasn’t.

With that, Bradley’s mouth opened to draw in a deep, long breath.

‘‘I’m not getting much of a reaction out of you, Mr. Gress,’’ Odum intoned. And as Jude thought about it, he could see the chief was indeed getting a bit upset; Odum had obviously expected a blubbering idiot who would beg for his life. Of course, Odum had no way of knowing he sat next to a man who was quite familiar with death and who was now unafraid of it.

Jude shrugged. ‘‘Not sure what you expected,’’ he said as he looked across the seat. ‘‘But I’m more than willing to die for my son.’’ Odum’s coat, lying on the seat between them, caught his eye. Jude replayed a part of the vision in his head: the part where Odum slipped the bottle of chloroform and cloth inside a coat pocket.

Odum grinned while keeping his eyes on the road. ‘‘It’s a nice thought, but after you dig your hole and occupy it, I still get to go home, Mr. Gress. The Quarry—’’ Odum’s voice shifted. ‘‘Your son— is waiting at home for me.’’

Jude put his left hand on top of the steering wheel. With his right hand he started exploring Odum’s jacket on the seat between them, knowing the darkness of the forest night would hide his actions: the only light in the car was the soft glow of the dash displays. ‘‘Why do you think I asked you to come up here, ten miles away from your home?’’ Jude asked as he blindly slid his hand around the folds of the coat. He felt a bulge, then worked his way around the lining and found the pocket’s opening. Inside, he felt the chloroform and cloth.

Odum went still, quiet. ‘‘What do you mean?’’

Jude carefully grasped the bottle and cloth, slid them out of the coat and behind his back. ‘‘By this time, Chief Odum, my son is probably long gone from your house. My . . . his mother went there while we came here. She’s probably back at the police station now.
Your
police station. And I’ll bet what they find in your home will be much more interesting than anything they found in Sohler’s.’’

Odum’s eyes rolled to white for a brief second, then focused. They rolled again, focused. He let the gun drop to his side. ‘‘Well,’’ he said simply. And then, in a low whisper, he said something else Jude could barely hear: ‘‘Switch.’’

Jude felt his nerves kick up another notch. Careful, he had to be careful. In the backseat, Kristina stayed as eerily quiet as she had been for the whole ride.

‘‘I . . . I know about your childhood,’’ Jude said in a hushed tone.

‘‘Pull over here,’’ Odum growled.

Jude pulled to the side of the road but tried to keep the conversation going. ‘‘Your mom committed suicide when you were young, a horrible thing for you to go through. You blamed yourself for it, and maybe even your father blamed you for it.’’

Odum said nothing. Jude wasn’t sure if he should continue or not, but he felt like Odum was out on a ledge; he needed to talk Odum into backing off of it.

‘‘It’s not fair, I know,’’ Jude continued. ‘‘It kinda made your father a bit crazy, didn’t it? And he took it out on you. A horrible thing to live through, Chief Odum. But you did it. And believe it or not, I know what that’s like. I think you can get help. We can just turn around and go back now.’’

Odum smiled, a demented, twisted smile. ‘‘A fine lecture, Mr. Gress. You
should
really think about becoming a psychologist sometime.’’ Odum raised the barrel of the gun toward Jude again, and Jude swallowed hard.

‘‘However,’’ Odum said, ‘‘I think I’ll just stick with Plan A right now.’’ He reached over and twisted the key to shut off the car. ‘‘Howzabout you grab that shovel in back, Mr. Gress?’’

Odum opened his door, then slid out; Jude followed suit, cupping the hidden chloroform and cloth behind him. Jude opened the back door to the car to reach for the shovel. He exchanged a look with Kristina, then slowly shook his head. Jude glanced up at Odum, whose eyes were now wide and wild.

‘‘How about just you and me on this one?’’ Jude asked.

Odum smiled. ‘‘Of course just you and me, Mr. Gress. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Don’t even have to bring the shovel, if you’d rather dig with your hands.’’

Jude glared at Kristina as he grabbed the shovel; she reached out to touch his arm, but he pulled away.

‘‘Something wrong, Mr. Gress?’’ Odum boomed.

‘‘Nothing, nothing.’’

‘‘After you, then,’’ Odum said, giving a comical bow. They set out into the woods, stepping over low brush and downed timber as they moved. The air was cold, crisp, dark. The loamy ground beneath them crackled with leaves and larch needles.

‘‘You’ve heard of Extreme Measures, haven’t you, Mr. Gress?’’ Odum seemed almost jovial now, as if his whole world weren’t falling down around him. Jude certainly hadn’t expected this latest twist.

‘‘Extreme measures? Sure, yeah. I guess so.’’

‘‘Well, maybe you’ve heard of it, but I doubt you’ve ever experienced it before. This,’’ Odum said as he waved the gun at the forest around him, ‘‘is even a bit more than that. Let’s call it Beyond Extreme Measures, eh?’’

Odum was babbling now, but Jude wasn’t about to argue with him. No sense kicking a dog when it’s cornered.

‘‘Let’s just keep that shovel down at your side, in case you’re thinking of taking a swing,’’ Odum said. ‘‘It doesn’t matter how fast you can move, Mr. Gress. A .38 slug moves much faster.’’

Jude nodded and kept walking. He wasn’t really thinking of swinging the shovel. He had something else in mind.

‘‘I’d still like to know how you did it, Mr. Gress. How you figured it all out.’’

‘‘I’m not real sure of that myself.’’ That was the truth.

‘‘I mean, knowing about my childhood and—’’

Abruptly, Jude tripped and went facedown on the ground. He rolled onto his back, then clutched at his lower leg.

‘‘What?’’ Odum asked.

Jude spoke through clenched teeth. ‘‘Twisted my ankle on a big root, I think. I . . . I think I might have hurt it pretty bad.’’

Odum pointed the gun at Jude’s midsection. ‘‘Get up.’’

‘‘I’m not sure if I can.’’

Odum cocked his gun. ‘‘You can if you don’t want your guts ventilated,’’ he said.

Jude rolled over again and made a show of getting up slowly. At the same time he filled his left hand with dirt from the forest floor; he kept the chloroform cloth clutched in his right hand. After he got to his feet, he turned toward Odum.

He acted before he had a chance to think about the danger of the situation. He knew he’d only have one chance, and he took it. Shifting into high gear, he threw the dirt at Odum’s eyes and rushed him at the same time. The dirt worked: subconsciously Odum reached for his face, pulling the gun away from Jude.

Jude hit him hard and fast. Odum was larger, and at least twenty pounds heavier, but Jude had surprised him. He drove his shoulder into Odum’s stomach as hard as he could, and he heard Odum’s lungs reverse direction as his breath came out in one long
whoosh
. As they fell to the ground, Jude clamped the chloroform-soaked cloth over Odum’s mouth.

Odum struggled for a few moments, trying to buck off Jude’s body. But Jude held tight. Odum was strong, incredibly strong; Jude was glad he hadn’t tried anything with the shovel. Odum would have eaten him for lunch.

Before long, Odum’s body went limp, yet Jude kept the cloth over his face. He didn’t want to fall for a fake flop, then let up his guard and have Odum overpower him. So, after about thirty seconds, when he was certain Odum was out, Jude relaxed. He looked around for the dropped gun, found it, then grabbed Odum by the shoulders and started dragging him.

It took about twenty minutes for Jude to get Odum’s limp body back to the car. Odum had to be at least two hundred thirty pounds, and Jude wasn’t used to dragging around that kind of dead weight. A few times he thought of leaving Odum, but he was too scared. He didn’t want to let Odum out of his sight now. If he took his eyes off the monster, the monster might escape. And if the monster escaped, he might show up somewhere else.

Just before he reached the car, Jude set down Odum’s body and pulled out the gun. While he knew there was no way he could use it on Kristina, he hoped she wouldn’t know that.

He stalked toward the car and was surprised to see her still sitting in the back. He knocked on her door window with the barrel of the gun; she turned without seeming surprised, as if she had always expected him to be there. Quickly he opened the front door and stared at her through the metal partition.

‘‘Can’t really believe you’re still here,’’ he said.

She turned to look at him. ‘‘I’m not going anywhere,’’ she said. ‘‘It’s not my time yet.’’

Whatever that meant. No matter; now he remembered the cruiser’s doors and windows were only operable by the driver so she wouldn’t have escaped if she even wanted to. This made things easier: with the locked doors and partition, he didn’t have to worry about Kristina doing anything in the backseat while he drove. The big question was, what should he do with Odum? He could maybe put Odum in the back with Kristina, but he didn’t like that idea. This was Odum’s car, and he was sure the chief knew how to retract the screen or unlock the doors. Plus, he was sure he didn’t want both of them sitting together—behind him, no less—as he drove back to town.

Then an idea hit him: the handcuffs. He could handcuff Odum, put him in the front seat, and keep the gun on him.

Jude went back to retrieve Odum’s unconscious body. He cuffed Odum, then dragged him to the car and struggled to push him into the front seat. Odum stirred in Jude’s arms, waking from his chloroform-induced slumber.

Jude realized he’d left the cloth and the bottle out in the forest somewhere; there wasn’t any way he was going to put Odum back to sleep, and there was even less chance of him winning a physical struggle. He patted down the officer, wanting to make sure he didn’t have any other weapons.