The hand belonged to Jake Wallace. He lay sprawled, very dead, beside the bed. A bullet hole made a very messy third eye in the center of his forehead.
Ty stood up and brushed his hands on his pants. "He hasn't been dead long. I'd guess he bought it just before we drove up here."
"I don't want to sound callous," I said, "but screw him. Where's my Mom?"
"Search everywhere. Look for anything that might give us a clue. Stanton didn't take her with him so she must be somewhere in the area."
The simplest explanation filled me with dread. They might have killed her and dumped her in the woods. Oh, God, please let her be okay.
Ty began searching Jake's body, a task he was welcome to, while I made a circuit of the room. There was more here than I'd seen at first glance. Some sturdy cabinets held a few chipped plates and old pans. A dark blue Igloo cooler sat in the corner. The cooler held some ice, sandwich materials, and some bottled soda. Nothing useful.
There had to be something more. There
had
to be! I slowly scanned the room, looking for anything. I even examined the floor for a concealed trapdoor. Nada.
Ty stood up, holding several things in his hand. "Jake had his wallet, a baggie of what looks like weed, a bong, his car keys, and a padlock key. Did you find anything?"
I shook my head. "Nothing," I said, frustrated. "I even looked for a trapdoor."
"I'll start a search around the perimeter. Call for the Sheriff's department. It's far too late for them to screw anything up and we can use the extra eyes. Make sure they bring an ambulance. Just in case."
"Give me your phone. I dropped mine."
He handed it over and dumped Jake's things on the table. "Someone will have to wait here for them. Since you have the phone, you're tagged."
"You had the phone before," I groused. "The damned thing probably won't have any reception anyway. And I don't want to stay in here with a dead body so just accept that I'm going out to look around, too."
The corners of his mouth inched up. "Which direction is that gorge? Can you find it again?"
I frowned and waved my hand in the general direction I thought it was. "Somewhere over there, I think. What has that got to do with anything?"
He pointed almost behind me. "It's that direction and if you can't find it, the odds are that you'll be lost in the woods inside ten minutes."
"Then it's a good thing I have your phone because I'm going anyway."
He shook his head. "I can see I need to get you a GPS tracking collar to keep a handle on you. Hell. I can't keep you here anyway so at least
try
to keep some kind of trail marked." He opened his backpack and pulled out a sheathed bowie knife and handed it over. "Strap this on and cut a small wedge in the trees every once in a while." He made chopping motions with his hand.
"What do I do if I find something?"
"Do what you do best: scream."
I mimicked what he said silently, sarcastically at his back as he went back out the door. I didn't scream all the time. Not even most of the time.
The cell phone had no connection so I slid it into my pocket to try again in a few minutes. Right now I needed to figure out how best to start searching the woods. Jake's scattered possessions caught my attention as I turned toward the door. I bit my lip and clenched my fist. I didn't want to lay myself open from anything connected with Jake but one of them might have a vision linked to my mother. I had to try.
I gingerly picked the objects up one at a time. One by one, I got nothing until I got to the padlock key. As soon as I touched it I was plunged into the past.
My... I really needed a word for people I occupied during these visions, especially if I was going to keep doing this. Subjects? Hosts? Hosts. That worked. My host was walking down a tunnel cut through the dirt and stone. One hand held a flashlight and the other held a revolver. In front of him, awash in the pale hand held light walked my mother and Josh Cavanaugh, their hands cupped behind their heads.
"You don't have to do this," my mother said. She was trying to sound calm, but an undercurrent of fear tinged her words.
"Quiet," my host - Jake - said. "You'll be fine once your daughter comes through. I suggest you pray real hard she doesn't try to screw me. It might be a long time in the dark if she stalls."
A bolt of pure rage shot through me. The bastard left my mother in the dark? I was suddenly glad he was dead. If he hadn't been, I might have shot him myself.
Josh whirled and his hands shot out to grab Jake, but he was too far away. Jake's revolver went off like the trumpet of doom, the gunshot magnified by the enclosed space. Josh grabbed his leg and fell backward onto the ground. Mom screamed and knelt quickly beside her injured lover.
"You bastard," she forced out between her gritted teeth. That looked to be directed at Jake, not Josh. Josh clamped his hands around a spreading blood stain on his upper left leg. Jake stepped back and aimed the light down on them. That let me see something new. A pair of metal rails in the center of the tunnel. Or, rather, I guess it was a mine.
"Naughty boy, no supper for you," Jake smirked. "Get up. Your new home is right around the corner."
"I'm not going anywhere until I put something on this," Mom said defiantly.
"Move or I shoot him again and you can wait alone in the dark."
The look she shot Jake was undiluted hatred. She helped Josh to his feet and draped his arm across her shoulders. "I need bandages, alcohol."
"You'll get what I give you and be happy to get it. Move."
With grunts of pain from Josh, the two of them hobbled forward. Jake followed them around a gentle curve in the tunnel. The shaft widened and a dark opening appeared off to the left. A side tunnel. The rails continued on down the main shaft and the new opening was closed off by an old, rusted metal grate.
"Inside," Jake said.
With the hinges groaning like a damned soul, Josh pulled the door open. The side shaft only went a couple of dozen feet before it ended in a blank wall. That created a large room that had a few old wooden crates a filthy pile of blankets lined against the rear wall. The front wall had a couple of new card tables and the model of Lake Tahoe I'd seen in Jake's house before he fled.
Jake forced them to the back of the room and pushed the door shut. He pulled a key on a string out from under his shirt and locked the lock that had been laying open in the hasp, sealing them in. He tucked the key back into his shirt. He gestured toward the tables.
"There's a duffel under the tables. There's a first aid kit inside it. There's some bottled water and old army C rations, too. I'd ration if I were you. No telling how long little Candy will take to come through."
He turned the flashlight off, plunging the mine into pitch darkness. "There's a penlight in the duffel. If you use it sparingly it might last you quite a while. If not, get used to this."
"You can't do this to us," Mom pleaded.
"Keep me," Josh said. "Let Linda go. At least take her out of here."
