Disturbance Page 26

“Come here,” Parrish said.

  Reluctantly, I moved closer.

  “Hold out your hands.”

  I did, and he holstered his gun and removed a knife—a strange knife with a thin, long blade—from his pack. He swiftly cut through the tape between my wrists, then held the tip of the knife under my jaw, just shy of the soft skin there.

  “You are going to take this pack off him. You are going to care for his wounds, and you are going to help me get him to shelter. If you try to fuck with me or Kai in any way, I will make you incredibly sorry for it.”

  He didn’t wait for or want a reply from me. He moved out of reach, nodded toward Kai, and said, “Get him into a condition that will allow us to move out of here, and quickly.”

  A tall order, but I did as he asked. I found myself willing to ignore almost all the first aid training I’d ever had. I found a water bottle, didn’t check to see if the water in it was sterilized, and told Kai to drink from it. I used water from the stream to rinse off the cuts on his forehead. I dried his face and taped a big pad of gauze on the worst cut, the only one still bleeding. I paid no heed to concerns about sterile conditions, hand washing, hypothermia, head injuries, blisters, or even athlete’s foot. Let him suffer.

  While I worked on Kai, Parrish looked toward the stream, walked to its edge, stared, then walked back. He paced this distance several times, then suddenly seemed resigned. I wasn’t sure what that was about.

  Parrish walked back over to us, and together we helped Kai to his feet. Kai leaned on me while Parrish carried Kai’s pack in his free hand—the shovel had been lost out of it, and God knew I wasn’t going to point that out or go looking for it.

  We hadn’t gone far before it was apparent that Kai was more bruised and shaken than seriously hurt. Foreheads can produce dramatic bleeding, but he didn’t show any signs of concussion, although those might appear later.

  His skin was blue, though, and he shivered.

  “Do you have a change of clothes in your pack?” I asked.

  “He’ll be able to change his clothes not far from here,” Parrish said. “He’ll warm up as we move. Or maybe I should have you strip and give him your clothes.”

  I ignored him. As we walked, Kai clung to me, in a way that both unsettled me and at first made it difficult to move. He seemed to figure out fairly quickly that he needed to loosen his hold at least a little, and he did so, but he kept his uninjured left arm around my shoulders.

  We walked upstream, past a place where we could have stayed dry by crossing on a fallen log, a fact that made Kai shoot Parrish a dirty look. Not long after that, Kai played with my hair. I stepped away from him. He smiled but didn’t try to put his arm around me again. I felt queasy.

  We reached a point where trees hid the sheer rock face from view. We left the stream and walked along the foot of this cliff. Moving was good—I warmed up a little.

  Not much farther in, Parrish called a halt and told me to give Kai a boost up the rock face to a ledge. It was about ten feet above us.

  “How is he supposed to reach that ledge with an injured arm?”

  He sighed. “Do not try my patience. Give him a boost.”

  For his part, Kai obeyed without hesitation. He struggled to pull himself up, but other than giving a grunt of pain as he rolled onto the ledge, he didn’t complain. He peered over the edge, his face pale, awaiting orders.

  “Get the ladder,” Parrish said. “Anchor it the way I showed you at the lodge. And while you’re back there, get one of the other guns. Try not to lose this one. Tomorrow I’m going to send you in after the one you dropped into the water, and the shovel, too.”

  So—that explained Parrish’s unhappy pacing near the stream.

  Kai’s eyes widened at Parrish’s threat, but he scrambled to his feet. I heard scraping sounds, and a few minutes later, he dropped the ladder down. It was a fire escape ladder, the kind people keep in the bedrooms of two-story homes. Parrish tested it, then began calling more instructions up to Kai.

  “I’m going to change,” Kai said. “I’m freezing.”

  Parrish scowled up toward the ledge, but Kai had already retreated from view.

  I was on the ground but knew I would soon be asked to climb into God knew what kind of lair Parrish had set up. He and his son had made it clear that they planned to torture me, sexually assault me, and kill me. If not there, at whatever other hideout he had in mind.

  My hands and feet were free. Donovan was nowhere nearby. Kai was above me and injured and not in view.

  I had one opponent, and he was reaching for me.

  I made my move, a technique known in Kenpo as Covering the Flame. Rachel had been convinced—given who might be after me—that I needed to know this one, and she’d made me practice it again and again.

  That practice allowed my next series of movements to go by in seconds. As Parrish stepped forward, I evaded his reaching left hand and continued moving, stepping with my left foot to his right side—his semiautomatic was held in his right hand.

  Now facing his right side, I used my left hand to immediately take hold of the back of his right wrist in an iron grip. He began pulling the trigger, firing wildly, but I was outside his range, controlling his aim with control of his wrist. I used that grip to move him off balance even as I rapidly raised my own right hand to my shoulder. I pivoted on my left foot as I stepped forward with my right, landing my right foot behind his right leg, never letting go of his wrist. I brought my right arm in hard to bend his hand in, so that I now pinned the wrist of his gun hand with the bones of my right wrist and used my forearm to force his hand toward his shoulder. Soon my elbow was lodged against his shoulder.

  With my hold on his wrist and the way my body was positioned, I completely controlled his movement and balance as I pivoted—twisting his wrist and shoulder and using my momentum. He followed where his wrist was being taken, but his leg encountered the back of mine, and he lost his balance. The motion pulled him down to the ground, so that he landed flat on his back with an “oof” at about the place I had been standing a moment before.

  He had lost his grip on the gun, but I still had not lost mine on him. I kept hold of his wrist while I used my right foot to stomp hard on his right arm, his chest, his left arm, then jabbed the knuckles of my right hand into his eyes. He turned his head just before I made prime contact, but I still hit him hard enough to hurt him.

  I knew I had taken him by surprise, I knew he had been underestimating me all along. But this was no time to gloat. I didn’t wait to see if I could take him in round two. I picked up the gun and ran like hell into the trees.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  Donovan heard shots and screams. He moved quickly toward the cave, then slowed and approached cautiously when he realized the screams belonged to Nick Parrish. Parrish was yelling something about his eyes and screeching, “Shoot her!”

  He was on the ground, curled on his side, rubbing his chest and pressing one hand over his eyes.

  By then Donovan was near enough to catch a glimpse of Kai before he turned back in to the cave. He noticed that Kai wore a bandage, looked unhappy—and, oddly enough, had most of his clothes off. Donovan thought over his options, waited until Parrish seemed to have himself under better control, then approached.

  “Well, that ought to bring the rangers down on us in no time,” he said.

  “Donovan?” Parrish said, peering out from between his fingers, wincing. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Exactly where I told you I’d be. I hid the car and then hiked back here.” He looked up at Kai. “What happened here?”

  “He tripped over his own two feet and landed on his ass in the stream,” Parrish said.

  Kai frowned, then said, “He got his ass kicked by a woman.”

  They squabbled and denied and embellished, but out of all that mix, Donovan was able to roughly piece together what had happened.

  “Why didn’t you shoot her?” Parrish demanded.

  “The guns up
here aren’t loaded,” Kai said. “I’ve never been here before, so I don’t know where the fuck you put the ammo.”

  “Let’s deal with your wounds—and change your clothes,” Donovan said, hoping to stall long enough to give Irene the chance she needed to get away. He was concerned about the fact that she had no water with her, and he hoped she’d stay away from the stream, since Parrish would undoubtedly hunt for her there.

  “Are you going to chase her?” Kai said.

  “I’ll do that if you prefer,” Donovan said to Parrish.

  But almost as quickly as he answered, Parrish said, “No!”

  Kai gave him a puzzled look.

  “We need to stay together,” Parrish said.

  “I’m getting a crick in my neck staring up at Kai,” Donovan said. “You want him to come down, even though he’s turning blue, or do you want to go up?”

  Parrish decided he could climb the ladder. He made slow progress. Soon after they reached the cave, Donovan set up a couple of cots with sleeping bags on them, then brought out two propane camping heaters while Kai dressed. The contents of Kai’s backpack were strewn about, creating tripping hazards.

  Parrish seemed glad to have a warm, soft place to lie down. Donovan got each of them to let him look at their injuries.

  Parrish was bruised, and his left eye was swollen shut. His right wrist appeared to be sprained. Donovan put cold packs on the eye and wrist, and wrapped the wrist. He did his best to make Parrish believe he was concerned about more complicated injuries without overdoing it. He wanted Parrish to be thinking about his vulnerability, his aches and pains, the possibility of worse outcomes.

  He had almost no admiration for Parrish, other than in one regard: his determination in recovering from his spinal injury. Although Parrish had been luckier than most in the nature of the injury itself, Donovan didn’t fool himself that coming back from it had been an easy process. But Parrish’s determination to survive and recover could not outweigh all the attributes that made him worse than a monster, or make up for what he had done to his victims. Donovan felt no compunction in using a little psychological warfare on a man whose greatest fears had to include the possibility of suffering paralysis again.

  So as he looked over the places on Parrish’s upper arms and chest that were red and swollen and would undoubtedly show bruises soon, Donovan said, “I’m glad you weren’t lying on your stomach when this happened. She could have permanently injured your back.” And a little later, “I don’t think the ribs are broken, but I’m really not certain.” And after gently studying his left eye and looking at what was probably going to be a shiner and not much worse, he injected just a little worry in his voice as he said, “I don’t know. Hard to tell.”

  He went no further than that, and did the rest of his work in silence. There was a balance to be found, especially with someone experienced with abuse. He knew, from Quinn’s long lectures on the Legend of the Glorious and All-Powerful Nick Parrish, that Parrish had suffered torture and sexual abuse as a child—as had Quinn and Kai although Kai’s and Quinn’s had been at the hands of their stepfathers, with their mothers turning a blind eye. Parrish’s mother had been actively involved, a partner in the abuse.

  Donovan reminded himself that all three had long-standing acquaintanceships with pain, providing fuel for their rage.

  “Donovan,” Parrish said, “I have a question for you.”

  Donovan waited.

  “Do you have my cell phone?”

  “You didn’t leave it back at the warehouse?” Donovan asked, letting a mixture of suppressed anger and a little anxiousness creep into his voice. “You know those things can be traced by the police, don’t you? It’s like having a locator button on you.”

  “No, I didn’t leave it in the warehouse. I had it with me this morning. As for the locator—how would anyone know its number has anything to do with me?”

  “For starters, Quinn—”

  “Knows nothing about this particular phone.”

  “Well, that’s a relief. But what about the man I spoke to—”

  “The Moth who guards your child? Utterly loyal to me.” He paused. “I do hope you find it. If I’m not in contact with him within a certain time frame, well, I’m sure you understand what might happen.”

  Donovan shrugged. “Whatever. At this point I’m more interested in staying out of prison.”

  To emphasize his supposed lack of concern, he moved toward Kai. “How’s the head?”

  “Hurts.”

  Donovan looked at the wound, put some antibiotic on it, and bandaged it again. He changed the bandage on Kai’s arm as well. “So far, no sign of a bad infection. You’re lucky. But we’ll have to keep an eye on it—streams up here can have some nasty bacteria in them.”

  Kai shook his head. “I hate it here. I want to go home.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Parrish said. “But we’ll find a better place to live.”

  “You like it up here,” Kai said, making it an accusation.

  “I know you want to live in a city. We’ll do that.”

  “What about my mom?”

  “I told you, I sent someone to take care of her. He’ll take her to live with Donovan’s little girl. There will be people there to take care of her until we can all be together.”

  “One big happy family?” Donovan asked.

  “The idea doesn’t appeal?”

  “Not something I’ve ever tried. As you know, I prefer solitude.”

  “What about when you were a kid?” Kai asked.

  “It was usually just me and my mom,” Donovan said, trying to figure out what Kai was really asking. Did he still think of himself as a child who needed Violet? Or was he curious about Donovan’s own childhood, comparing notes?

  “How is she these days?” Parrish asked.

  “Why ask a question you already know the answer to? It can’t be because you think I don’t know the answer.”

  “That’s right. She’s dead. Questionable circumstances, as I recall.”

  Donovan said nothing.

  “Was she mean to you?” Kai asked, frowning.

  “She did say something terrible to me once. She told me I reminded her of my father.”

  Parrish gave a crack of laughter, then groaned. “Oh, that hurt.” He slowly rose to his feet. “Let’s get going. First order of business is to find that bitch and kill her.”

  Donovan turned off the heaters and said, “Why bother with her? Why not just get out of here, then go after her again later?”

  “Yeah!” Kai said.

  “No,” Parrish said. “I’ve waited too long already. She’s not going to leave here alive.”

  Every backpack—each fitted for the person who would carry it—had a name stenciled on it, and Donovan picked up his and put it on. It was the backpack that he had especially prepared when he and Quinn were gathering supplies. Now he was the only one who donned a pack.

  Parrish, who had been pocketing extra ammunition for his rifle, raised his brows. “A tent and bedroll?”

  “If we don’t find her by nightfall, are you going to want to drive off, taking a chance that she’ll find help? She knows the stream comes to the road, she knows any road up here will eventually take her to other people, rangers if no one else. She may not have food, but there’s plenty of water.”

  “If we haven’t found her by dusk, we will come back here.”

  “Seriously? You think she’s going to stay close to this cave? Because otherwise, you’re talking about tracking her and then doubling back and losing ground.”

  Parrish stared at him so coldly and for so long, Donovan knew he had pushed him too far.

  “Suit yourself,” Parrish said finally and smiled. It was not a comforting smile. “Kai and I will be warm and comfortable. Did you know that there’s a good chance of rain, Kai?”

  Kai nodded. “You had me check the weather before we left the lodge.”

  “You see, Donovan? I’m not as unprepared as
you may think I am.”

  “Are we going to be out in the rain?” Kai asked.

  “Not if I can help it,” Parrish said. “Let’s get going.”

  Donovan said nothing more. He made an effort, after that, not to openly question Parrish’s judgment.

  “So, Donovan,” Parrish said when they had climbed down from the cave, “you have tracking experience. Where did she go?”

  He had expected this, and answered honestly, pointing out trampled foliage that would have been obvious to anyone. He was not especially comfortable having Parrish and Kai at his back, but as he suspected would happen, after about half an hour of following him, Parrish insisted on taking the lead.

  “Kai, you’ll be behind Donovan. Keep your weapon out. Don’t take your eyes off him.”

  Donovan watched Kai for the slightest sign of rebellion. He had been encouraged by Kai’s earlier anger with Parrish, but now he saw a look come into his eyes that put an end to any hope that his half brother might be turned away from worshiping Parrish.

  “And Donovan,” Parrish said, “give your gun to Kai.”

  If this was going to escalate to a pat-down, Donovan thought, now would be the moment to go for broke. He didn’t hide his wariness but handed over the automatic. Parrish watched him, then said, “I think I’ll also ask you to leave the backpack here. I don’t want to take the time to search it now, but I also don’t want to find out you’ve provided yourself with an extra weapon.”

  Donovan opened his mouth as if to protest, then closed it. He shrugged and took off the pack, leaning it against a tree.

  Parrish smiled. “All right, let’s get going. She can’t be too much farther ahead of us.”

  FORTY-EIGHT

  Frank had the maps with him.

  Topo maps, creased and worn, maps he had thought of throwing away a dozen times or more. But once they had guided him to where he had found Irene, Ben, and Bingle, and brought them home.

  Travis and Jack and Frank’s own dogs had been with him then, too. Along with Stinger Dalton, a pilot who had later taught Travis to fly. Stinger was in Hawaii this week and would undoubtedly be pissed off that he had missed being part of this second hunt.