“Which makes it even more dangerous, Sam. He’s touched Nessa’s mind, controlled her. If he senses you’re trying to make contact through Jonah, he could try to kill you both.”
“Then what, Luke? Spend the day trying to figure out why it’s important that these particular people whose lives Jonah saved are so important? I’m willing to bet he could add others to that list, other lives he’s saved.” She looked at Jonah fiercely. “Couldn’t you?”
“I guess. Probably. I’m a cop.” It was, really, the first time Jonah had seen the intensity lurking beneath Samantha’s seemingly quiet, urchinlike exterior, and now he had a fair idea of how these two matched so well.
“Then there are more potential victims, Luke. He abducted Nessa yesterday. He murdered Annie Duncan last night. He has five other people he’s probably holding captive. I say any shortcut we can try that might lead us to this bastard is worth taking.” She looked at Jonah, again fiercely. “How about you?”
“Yeah. Of course.” He had no idea what he’d just agreed to but had a hunch it was not going to be pleasant.
Thunder rumbled distantly.
“Shit,” Jonah said. “If we get another gully washer, even knowing which way to head in looking for them might leave us with nothing but a simple direction.”
“Then we don’t have any time to waste.” Sam got up and came to stand behind Jonah—who felt profoundly uneasy.
“Uh—”
“Don’t worry,” Luke said as he got up and stood near his wife, presumably to catch her if she collapsed again. “If this thing works at all, you’ll be a conduit. Best case, you might get some idea of where Nessa is being held, and maybe a mild headache.”
“And worst case?”
“You’ll feel at least some of what she’s feeling.”
“Oh, great,” he muttered.
Sam was briskly matter-of-fact. “Close your eyes, Jonah. And think about Nessa.”
“Think about her how?”
“Think of her riding horses, carrying her schoolbooks, standing in that kitchen while some monster took hold of her mind. Make her come alive in your mind.”
Jonah had no idea if he could do it, but he closed his eyes and thought about Nessa. He had a lot of memories of her, now that he allowed himself to think of them.
Nessa on a pony and then a horse. Nessa grinning at him and waving when he passed by in his Jeep. Lying so still and white and silent in the hospital bed while his blood helped her hold on to life. That chilling video of her in her kitchen, moving like some remote-controlled doll to do the bidding of another.
Nessa . . .
“My feet are cold,” Jonah said.
—
HER FEET WERE cold. She was a little surprised she could feel anything, because she thought they were numb. She’d looked down at them once only to look hastily away, because there were scratches from thorns and sticks, most of them bleeding, and one split toenail where she’d tripped on a root.
A root. They always gave her trouble. Always.
She knew the only reason her feet weren’t hurting horribly was because they were cold and mostly numb. But the coldness made it harder for her to feel the sharp edge of a stone, or briars, or everything else that could injure the bare feet of a little girl.
It was growing darker as the storm neared, but Nessa was doing her best. She had a sharp stone in her hand, and every few yards, she dug a short scratch in a tree trunk, just barely visible. She did it for two reasons: because she hoped it would keep her from walking in a circle as she’d read lost people often did, and because she hoped it would help Chief Riggs and his people find where the others were being held.
She knew it was a risk. If that snake thing, if he followed her and saw the marks, then he could catch up to her. She was sure he could travel faster than she could. So she tried to move faster, but paused to dig into a tree with the rock, her fingers hurting, her feet cold and stinging from the thorns and sticks and hard, cold ground . . .
—
“WHERE IS SHE, Jonah?” Sam asked calmly. She was holding one hand on each side of his head, a few inches from him, and her eyes were closed.
“Don’t know. Woods. Woods all around. My feet are cold. I can hear it thundering, louder now. I’m afraid . . . he might be somewhere behind me . . . but I have to . . . mark the trees. Like Chief Riggs taught us to do. A sharp stone. A slash across the bark. Not deep enough to hurt the tree. Just deep enough to see so we don’t get lost.”
“Nessa, did you escape?”
“I knew I could.” Jonah’s voice was oddly his own, and yet there was a musing quality to it. “I don’t know why I didn’t sleep like the others. They’re still back there. In that place that smells of dirt and mushrooms and . . .”
“And what, Nessa?”
“. . . and he has needles in their arms, with IV bags. I remember those from the hospital. There was one in my arm too, but I pulled it out. So I could get away. And then . . . I had to be so careful. So quiet. Because I knew he would look for me if he knew I was gone. I found the wall, and kept one hand on it, because I knew I could find my way out like that.”
“Did you see anything, Nessa?”
“It’s dark. It’s so dark. I can’t see anything. I can hear the others breathing sometimes, but . . . I can’t see. I can’t help them. Unless I get out. Get away. If I get away, then I can help them. Then I can show people where he kept us.”
“Nessa—”
“I’m outside again.”
“How did you come out? What did the doorway look like?”
“Not a doorway. Just . . . a hole in the ground. I think I’ve walked for miles and miles. But I haven’t, of course, I know that. Only I’m so tired. And the storm is coming. I still don’t see anything that looks familiar. Except . . . there’s a rock, taller than I am. And I remember people talking about it. Because it looks like it should fall over and it never does.”
“Nessa,” Jonah said suddenly. “Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you in my head. Why can I do that, Chief Riggs?”
“We’ll talk about it later. Nessa, just beyond the funny rock there are two different paths. Do you see them?”
“Um . . . yeah. One’s clearer than the other. I can hardly see the other.”
“That’s the trail you have to take.”
“Are you sure?”
“Just get on that trail and keep walking, Nessa. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Oh—okay, Chief Riggs.”
Lucas had heard only one side of that last bit of conversation, when Jonah spoke. But he watched Sam’s lips move whenever Nessa answered.
Sam stepped to one side as Jonah rose, and she seemed more grateful than anything else that Luke’s arm was around her.
“Wow,” she said. “That was different.”
Jonah shook his head the way a man did when he was dismissing something for the moment. “It’s not a mild headache, just so you know. I have to go after Nessa. If she’s where I hope she is, I can get there in less than thirty minutes. I’ll grab a couple of my officers who ride; Clyde stables a few horses several blocks back from his diner. You two stay here.”
“What about the captor?” Lucas asked.
“Nessa may be able to help us find him. If not, the marks I taught her to make on trees should at least get us near there. No matter how hard it rains, it won’t wash away those marks.”
Luke eased Sam down into the closest chair as Jonah hurried from the building.
“Are you all right?”