Marlin smiled down at Lacey, raised the .44 Magnum, and brought it down on the side of her head. She was hurled into blackness before she hit the ground.
“Now, I’ve got to do this just so,” Marlin said to his father as he leaned down over Hannah. “Yes, just so. I can’t wait to see her face when she finally comes to the center of the maze, when she finally comes to me.”
Four local police cars cruised in silently, all of them parked a good block from the warehouse. Men and women quietly emerged from the cars, Lewis Jacobs bringing them to where Savich had just arrived in a taxi, a tall middle-aged black man next to him.
“Jimmy Maitland will be here soon, along with about fifteen Special Agents,” Savich said quietly. “Now, here’s what we’re going to do.”
Lacey awoke slowly, nausea thick in the back of her throat, her head pounding. She tried to raise her head, just a bit, but the dizziness brought her down. She closed her eyes. Marlin had struck her with a gun over her left ear, the bastard. Harder this time than in Boston. He’d probably laughed when she was unconscious at his feet. She lay there silently, waiting, swallowing convulsively, praying that Dillon had found her message, but knowing in her gut that she had to depend on herself, not on some rescue. Where was Hannah?
It was deathly silent in the huge gloomy warehouse, except for the sound of an occasional scurrying rat. The air was thick and smelled faintly rotten, as if things had died here and just been left where they’d fallen. Her nausea increased. She swallowed, willing herself not to vomit. There was a small pool of light in front of her, thanks to Marlin.
There was also a ball of string.
Think, dammit, think. He had her gun, both her guns. She looked around very slowly, wondering if he or Erasmus could see her. There was nothing she could see to use as a weapon, nothing at all.
Except the string. She came up slowly onto her knees. She still felt light-headed, but the dizziness was better. Just a few more moments. At least he’d removed the ropes from her hands and feet. At least she was free.
She heard Marlin’s eerie voice coming from out of the darkness. “Hey, you’re awake. Good. It took you long enough, but my daddy said I was just too excited to be patient. Marty, listen to this.”
Hannah’s scream ripped through the silence.
“I’ve got her here, Marty, at the center of the maze. This was just a little demonstration. Don’t panic on me. I just hurt her a little bit. She must have a real low threshold of pain to scream when I just jerked her arm up. Now, if you don’t get here, she won’t be quite whole really soon. You start moving now or I’ll start cutting off her fingers, then her nose, then her toes. Hey, that rhymes. I’m good. Now, I’ll work up from there, Marty, and you’ll get to hear her scream every time I take my knife to her. I won’t cut her tongue out until last. You’ll hear everything I do to her. Too, if she just gargles when I cut her, that wouldn’t be any fun.”
She stood up, the string in her hand. “I’m coming, Marlin. Don’t hurt her. You promise?”
There was silence. She knew he was talking to Erasmus. Good, they were together. She didn’t have to worry about Erasmus watching her from a different vantage point.
“She’ll be fine as long as I know you’re on your way. Move, Marty. That’s right. I can see you now.”
But he couldn’t, at least not all of the time, just at those intervals where he’d managed to place mirrors. She began wrapping the string around her hand. No, this wouldn’t do it. She had to double the string and knot it every couple of inches. She redid it as she walked, clumsy at first, gaining in proficiency and speed as she tied it again and again. She was nearly to the beginning of the maze and the string would run out. She prayed she’d have enough.