I quickly circled Conrad as he ambitiously but ineffectively sought to
disembowel me. Employing a technique sure to elicit the righteous
indignation of the American Dental Association, I gripped the butt of
the flashlight between my teeth, to free both hands for the shotgun, and
I slammed the stock of the gun into the back of his head.
He went down and stayed down.
Apparently, neither one-name Conrad nor the inimitable John Joseph
Randolph had realized that our goggles were part of infrared sets,
because Doogie was almost literally dancing around the most successful
serial killer of our time excluding politicians, who generally hire out
the wet work and beating the crap out of him with a natural-born
enthusiasm and with a skill honed as a bouncer in biker bars.
Perhaps because he had a greater concern for dental safety and oral
hygiene than I did, or perhaps just because he didn’t like the taste of
the flashlight handle, Doogie had simply placed the infrared light on
the card table and then herded Randolph into the primary path of the
beam with a relentless series of judiciously delivered pokes, punches,
and chops with his fists and with the barrel and butt of the Uzi.
Randolph went down twice and got up twice, as though he really believed
that he had a chance. Finally he dropped like a load from a dinosaur,
prepared to lie there until he fossilized. Doogie kicked him in the
ribs. When Randolph didn’t move, Doogie administered the traditional
Hell’s Angel first aid, kicking him again.
Unquestionably, Doogie Sassman was a Harley-riding maniac, a man of
surprising talents and accomplishments, a true mensch in many ways, a
source of valuable if arcane knowledge, perhaps even a font of
enlightenment. Nevertheless, no one was likely to structure a new
religion around him anytime soon.
Doogie said, “Snowman? ”
“Hey.”
“Handle some real light? ” Slipping off my goggles, I said, “Fade me
in.” He switched on the storm lamp, and the copper-lined room was filled
with rust-colored shadows and shiny-penny light.
The pre-cataclysmic rumbles, cracks, squeals, and groans that shook
through the vast building continued to be muffled here, more like the
embarrassing noises of digestive distress. But we didn’t need a
fifty-page directive from the Occupational Safety and Health
Administration to know that we should vacate the premises as soon as
possible.
We quickly determined that the children were not merely bound with rope
or shackled. Their wrists had been wired together, as had their ankles.
The wires were drawn cruelly tight, and I winced at the sight of bruised
skin and dried blood.
I checked Orson. He was breathing, but shallowly. His forepaws were
wired together, his hind legs, too. A makeshift muzzle of wire clamped
his jaws shut, so he was able to issue only a thin whine.
“Easy, bro, ” I said shakily, stroking his flank.
Doogie stepped to the gate valve and shouted along the tunnel to Sasha
and Roosevelt, “We got em. All alive! ” They whooped with delight, but
Sasha also urged us to hurry.
“We’re shakin’ and bakin’, ” Doogie assured her. “Keep your guard up.
” After all, there might be worse than Randolph and Conrad in this
labyrinth.
A couple of satchels, backpacks, and a Styrofoam cooler were stacked
near the card table. Under the assumption that this gear belonged to the
tandem killers, Doogie went in search of pliers or any other tool with
which we could free the kids, because the wires had been braided and
knotted with such obsessive care that we couldn’t easily unwind them.
I gently pulled the tape off Jimmy Wing’s mouth, and he said he needed
to pee-pee, and I told him that I did, too, but that we would both have
to hold it for a little while, which shouldn’t be any trouble because we
were both brave guys with the right stuff, and this earned his solemn
expression of agreement.
The six-year-old Stuart twinsaaron and Anson thanked me politely when I
untaped their mouths. Anson informed me that the two unconscious kooks
on the floor were bad men. Aaron was blunter and less clean-spoken than
his brother, calling them “shit heads, ” and Anson warned him that if he
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