The Tower Part 22

"Now whatever makes you think I would hurt Theodore?" Allander asked as he unwound the tape from the older boy's torso.

Ted stared blankly ahead. He stood and walked upstairs when Allander led him by the hand. As soon as Allander was out of view, Alex thrashed madly against his restraints, but could barely get the tape to stretch. He finally sank low in the chair and waited for Allander's return.

After what seemed like an eternity, Allander walked back into the kitchen. "Please pardon my absence," he said quietly.

He went over to the cupboard to get a gla.s.s, and as he lifted his arm, Alex saw the telltale splash of fresh blood. The young boy began to scream-long, drawn-out, blood-curdling shrieks of terror.

Allander glanced down at his shirt and noticed the blood. "Well. I'm sorry you had to see that. Horribly inconsiderate of me, but you see, it's important that it's just the two of us. We wouldn't want Theodore b.u.t.ting in and ruining all our fun, now would we?"

He drank his water, setting the empty gla.s.s on the counter when he was done. Turning swiftly, Allander yanked a knife from the cutting block. He crossed the room in a flash, pressing the point of the blade to Alex's throat. "WOULD WE?" he roared.

Alex tried to stop his sobs. He was drooling now, and he tasted the salty mucus running down the back of his throat. He tried to speak, but he couldn't get the words out because of his rapid breathing, so he just shook his head back and forth. No, no, we wouldn't, his actions said.

"Well, finally our tough little soldier has begun to crack under the pressure. But don't feel badly. You've put up an impressive showing for a boy who has just lost a parent before his eyes. You'll bless me for it one day. It's what you really want."

Allander bent down and began to unwrap the duct tape from around Alex, talking as he worked. "We're going to have a little wedding, you see. You'll need to find some white clothes to put on and a veil-yes, yes, we do need a veil-and we'll undergo a brief ceremony in which boy is wed to man." He looked up and smiled at Alex lovingly. "We'll be married in virgin splendor suitable to the Renaissance."

Allander worked at a particularly stubborn piece of tape that was stuck to Alex's side. It ripped free, and he continued. "We'll fuse before ourselves, before our own naked eyes, and we'll find truth. We'll find truth, not happiness, for the two rarely, if ever, coexist."

When his upper body was freed from the chair, Alex stood, the tape falling from his lap to the ground. Allander was still bent over, pulling the last pieces from the boy's legs. When he finished, he rose slowly, bringing his mouth to Alex's left ear.

"I want you to know you're going to die. For pulling that tough-soldier routine, for trying to intimidate me. Me." Allander pointed at himself sharply, stabbing his chest with a finger. "I'm going to kill you no matter what you do. If you act cute, if you act tough, if you act nice-you're going to die all the same. But if you cooperate, then I'll kill you swiftly. Painlessly."

Alex stood dumbly in Allander's grasp, and it took a moment for the words to sink in. Then, he suddenly seized Allander's shoulders and brought his knee up, squarely catching his captor's t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es. Allander grimaced, waiting for the wave of pain to hit him.

As he fell to the floor, the boy slipped from his hands and disappeared. The searing pain took hold in his groin and spread like wild-fire through his lower stomach, and Allander screamed in agony, clutching himself.

"YOU STUPID CHILD. I'LL CATCH YOU. I'LL CATCH YOU AND I'LL KEEP YOU FOR HOURS AND HOURS." As he screamed, he sprayed droplets of saliva on the wooden floor.

Alex raced to a rounded room off the hallway and leaped inside, swinging the thick wooden door shut behind him. He let the large two-by-four fall into place in its iron holdings, and his muscles relaxed once he knew he was safely locked in. The circular room was the earthquake emergency zone in the house.

The room was small and well-supported, so it had the stability of a door frame. Alex had practiced locking himself in during the earthquake drills that his mother ran from the small schoolroom downstairs.

He reached up and felt for the wire chain that dangled from the single naked lightbulb. He pulled it, and the small room was cast in a dim yellow light. Shelves of food surrounded him, dozens of boxes containing snacks and meals.

He sat back on a canvas bag of sugar and turned off the light. He noticed the knotted rope that extended through the small hole in the ceiling and he smiled. The school bell.

Still on the kitchen floor, Allander rolled over on his back, clutching his injured t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es. He heard a soft ringing float through the air as the clapper struck its first tentative blows, and then the full glory of the school bell burst forth. Allander pulled himself to his knees, swearing loudly.

He limped down the hallway, pausing at the door that he had heard swing shut. He pressed his ear to the door and whispered in. "Alex. I know you're in there. I'm leaving now, but I'll be back. You won't escape me. I'll find you. And we'll have even more fun then."

Alex felt the coolness of his sweat layer his body, the rope sliding through his hands. Allander waited until the break between strikes of the bell, and then leaned forward until his lips touched the thick door.

He whispered, his voice just audible to the boy inside. "I'm going to hurt you, Alex. Hurt you in ways you can't even imagine." He waited until after the next toll, then continued. "I don't think you understand. I'm really going to hurt you."

As Allander's words reached him through the dank air of the small room, Alex realized that he would never have another night of restful sleep. Dead or alive, Allander would haunt him in his dreams and visions, in the waking and sleeping moments of the rest of his life.

Alex sank down to a crouch and hugged his knees tightly. The trembling set in as he heard the front door open and close. He rang the bell again, then sat and waited for help.

40.

T H E first light of morning broke from over the mountains as Jade veered across four lanes to exit Highway 280 at Woodside. Travers kept a relaxed expression on her face, but Jade saw her hand gripping the side of the pa.s.senger seat. They'd gotten the call from headquarters less than five minutes before. Already there were dogs out combing the woods and hills.

He raced to the rural community, flying over dirt roads and potholes.

"Woodside? Why Woodside?" Travers asked.

Jade shook his head. "Don't know. Could be he wanted to get somewhere random to throw us. Widen the range of our search, make it less effective."

"We have forty minutes between here and the first crime scene," Travers said. "That's a lot of room. It'll be a pain in the a.s.s to cover an area that large."

"McGuire said they were teachers," Jade said, thinking aloud.

He always does that, Travers thought. Ignores whatever he considers a digression. Just moves right on to whatever he's thinking about. But it works, she reminded herself. That's how he does it.

"At a home school, whatever the f.u.c.k that is," Jade continued. "Educators. The second group Leah told you he talked about."

"I hope to G.o.d there weren't more children."

Jade swerved around a large pothole without slowing. "Yeah, well," he said.

When they arrived at the scene, the house was already swarming with FBI and press, among the latter the two men Jade had terrorized at the bar. The pack of reporters fought their way over to Jade, tripping through the tangle of cords and cameras.

Although they were still at least fifteen yards away, they started with the questions.

"The city's in a panic and-"

"Investigation dragging into the sixth day-"

"Are you sure it's Atlasia-"

Jade cleared his throat calmly. "NO COMMENT!"

The group of reporters halted and looked at each other, trying to decide whether or not to proceed. They decided on not.

Travers spoke out of the side of her mouth as they walked past the frozen flock of reporters to meet McGuire at the front door. "Excellent poise, Marlow. Just what we meant by handling the press tactfully."

"Thank you, Travers. That's how it's done."

"I was being sarcastic."

"I wasn't."

"h.e.l.lo, McGuire, what do you have for us inside?" Travers's tone changed from grumble to greeting without missing a beat.

"Similar scene. Parents, one boy dead. Another boy survived-ten years old. Atlasia was going to kill him, but he managed to lock himself in a closet. Alex, I think his name is."

"Let me guess," Jade said. "Ears cut off, 'H N E' written on the wall in blood."

McGuire looked at Jade for a moment. "Pretty close, Marlow. Tongues, and 'S N E' again."

Jade raised a finger to brush the scar on his left cheek. That made sense, he thought, in light of the fact that the ears had been cut out of the picture of him that Allander had left on his back counter.

"Huh," he said. "So the teachers are the speakers. That leaves us with the lawmakers who can't listen."

McGuire looked at Travers as Jade wandered trancelike into the house. "What the h.e.l.l does that mean?"

"It means," Travers replied, "that he's not as dumb as he looks."

Jade headed through the entranceway, staring into the mirror splattered with blood. He wasn't looking at the blood though. He was watching the reflection of Allander as he moved through the house.

The scent of Allander lingered about the bodies. I just missed him, Jade thought. He walked around this house less than an hour ago.

He squatted over the mother's body, on the floor. Linda Johnson. The name, like the woman, meant nothing to him. Looking at her lifeless form, Jade could not even imagine her as having once been alive. The battering she had received from the iron had left her somewhere outside of reality. She was grotesque now, something out of a fantasy.

Jade turned his gaze to the b.l.o.o.d.y letters, and his hand absently went to the woman's face, brushing her cheeks. He felt his fingers dip into the pool that filled her vacant mouth, and a sticky warmth spread over them.

Some of the agents turned and looked at each other with raised eyebrows, but Jade didn't notice them. He inhaled the heat rising off the body as he felt the moisture of Allander's making. Even the air seemed to hold its breath during the long pause before he rose from his haunches.

The fingers of Jade's left hand dripped blood as they lifted from the mouth. He held them up before his face as the blood made its way under his cuff. The last three fingers on his hand had been submerged in the woman's mouth, and the line of the gory sheath ended neatly before his thumb and index finger.

With this ring, I thee wed.

He wiped his hand on his jeans. More agents scurried in.

Jade paced around the family room, walking laps around the woman's body and the forensics team working on her. He would have killed for a cup of ice right now.

The mother and older boy both had had their tongues cut out. The boy was past p.u.b.erty, so Allander would have found him intimidating. He would have felt that any s.e.xually potent male posed a threat. But Alex was young, like the children from the first house. Why had Allander told him he was going to kill him? Why would he want to kill a prep.u.b.escent child now, but not earlier?

"The boy," he asked one of the other agents in the house. "What was he like?"

"See for yourself," she replied. "He's out back."

"He's still here?" Jade said in disbelief. "Why the h.e.l.l didn't you tell me?"

The agent shrugged, her eyebrows drawing together in a frown.

Jade stormed through the sliding gla.s.s doors that opened to the backyard. Rather than ending at a fence, the backyard sloped off into a grove of trees and the hills beyond. Jade felt as if he had just stepped into a forest; the lawn and a toolshed were the only indications that a home was nearby. He spotted a small huddle of adults on the far corner of the lawn by the toolshed. He a.s.sumed Alex was in the middle.

A woman turned and saw him coming, and she straightened up, blocking Alex with her body. She had bags under her eyes that Jade noticed even before he crossed the lawn. Brown curly hair, streaked with an occasional glimmer of white, fell randomly over her face. She did not look like she was familiar with a brush.

"Oh no, Mr. Marlow," she said. "I was warned about you. You absolutely cannot talk to him now."

Jade was almost impressed with himself. He was practically famous.

"Look, Ms."-he pulled the tag clipped to the front of her cheap suit so he could read it-"Perkins of the Emergency Children's Advocate State Agency." He stopped and whistled. "That's a lot of capitals."

"They told me you were charming," she said flatly. "You can't talk to him. I'm sorry." She waved some piece of paper at him. "He has his rights."

"Then why's he still here?" Jade asked, standing on his tiptoes to peek at the kid. Alex was sitting Indian style on the edge of the lawn with his arms crossed, refusing to be moved.

"Well . . . he doesn't want to go. We're talking things through."

"I need to speak with him."

"That's certainly possible, Mr. Marlow, just not now. We're trying to move him somewhere more neutral. After he settles down, if he's ready, you can speak to him then."

Jade groaned. "You'll dilute him. That does me no good."

"I'm sorry. Those are his rights."

What was it about this kid that made Allander want to kill him? Jade stared at the woman's determined face and considered busting past her. If he could just get the kid alone for a few seconds, he might see what Allander had seen.

"Then how come you're letting the agents interview the little girl in the house?" he asked.

"A little girl?" she asked dryly. "Inside?" She looked fairly hesitant, but she was worried despite herself.

Jade nodded.

"This better not be a game, Mr. Marlow." She walked vigorously across the lawn toward the house.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Jade walked through the group of adults gathered around Alex, hooked a hand under his arm, and hauled him toward the toolshed. It was only about five steps away, and the social workers and EMTs were so shocked they didn't even respond until he tossed Alex into the small room and swung the door shut behind them. Alex fell to his bottom and skidded toward the far wall.

Jade grabbed a hoe and slid it through the metal door handles. He turned back to Alex. Several hands thudded the door outside, rattling the hoe fiercely. It wouldn't hold very long.

"Open up immediately!"

"You open this f.u.c.king door, now!"

Jade stepped toward him and Alex bounced to his feet, backing against the far wall. His back struck a protruding shelf, and his arms went to it, groping for something to grab hold of. His right hand found an ax handle that had been leaned against the wall. Jade smiled as he saw his little fingers tighten around the wood. That's my boy, he thought. That's my boy.

"Okay," Jade said, holding his hands out to his sides pa.s.sively. "That's it. It's okay." Alex slowly lowered the ax handle, and Jade stepped forward and rested his hands on the boy's head. "It's okay."

The hoe broke, sending splinters of wood scattering across the floor, and a group of people rushed past Jade, almost knocking him over. They surrounded Alex protectively, as they had on the lawn. Ms. Perkins was back, leading the charge. Jade resisted a smile as he thought about the reception she must have received from the agency men inside. Trying to run into a crime scene after an imaginary girl.

Her nostrils flared angrily and her hands were clenched. For a moment, Jade thought she might strike him. "This is entirely unacceptable," she said. "You will hear from our legal department, Mr. Marlow."

"You keep me away from that a.s.shole," Alex yelled over her shoulder.

"You are not to see him again," she continued.

"That's fine," Jade said. "I don't need to." As Jade headed back to the house, the group remained huddled together in the shed as though they'd been caught in a storm.