“Ah.” Carl offered up a half-smile as he reached the floor. “You’re a rather brash young woman, aren’t you.”
“And you’re a miserable knucklehead,” she replied. “Anybody can see that.”
“So they can,” Carl agreed.
“I want you to get Shane Ryan down here now,” she barked and took a menacing step forward.
“No,” Carl shook his head. “I am afraid that such an option is not available to you. In fact, I must insist that you leave the house. Some of the others who reside here are sure to take umbrage with your presence.”
“Others?” she laughed. “I saw one kid who took off running.”
“Yes. One child, who ran off to tell the others what was going on,” Carl assured her. Then, switching to German, he smiled and stated, “I’m going to destroy you, you know.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What the hell did you just yap about?”
Carl launched himself at her, striking her in the chest and seeking to gain some purchase upon her. She screamed at him and took hold of his left ear, pulling on it. Carl ignored the strange, ethereal pain inflicted by her efforts, and grabbed hold of her left thumb, bending it as far back as he could.
Her agonized screech was well worth the pain. She dropped her hold on his ear and tried to pull away from him. Carl only tightened his grip, pushing the digit as far back as he could. She lashed out with her free hand and her feet, the blows painful despite him being dead.
With a snarl of triumph, Carl tore the thumb off of the woman and cast it aside.
She tried to step away and into another room, but the Davis sisters emerged. As they swarmed around her, some of the dark ones appeared in the hallway. They were little more than small shapes that appeared to be wayward shadows. But when they found Miriam Shaw and sank their teeth into her, she screamed and fear filled her face.
For the first time, it appeared as though she understood she could be destroyed.
She swatted the dark ones away as Thaddeus and Eloise assaulted her from the side. Once more, Carl stepped forward, striking at her with all the force he could muster. The others continued to assail her as well, and for a brief moment, it seemed as though they might destroy her in the hallway.
But she broke free and fled the house, vanishing through the front door.
The others went to follow, but Carl called them back.
“Wait,” he told them as they gathered around him. “She is injured, and she is frustrated, but she is by no means cowed. Miriam is not half as dangerous as she believed herself to be, but we should not be sloppy. We have driven her from our home, and we will not let her get away. Thaddeus and Eloise, follow her, be quick, and stay together. I do not think she can do much to either of you.
“More of us should go,” a voice declared from beneath the floor.
Carl shook his head. “Only two. Thaddeus and Eloise are far more adept than even me when it comes to chasing people.” Carl turned to the two children, both of whom nodded and raced from the house.
“Even if they cannot track her to her item,” Carl continued, “we can rest in the assurance that Shane knows where she is. He will want to know she sought him out here.”
There was more disagreement, but Carl paid it no mind. Instead, he walked to the front door, and then through it. He looked out over the yard, trying to see either of the children, but they were already out of sight.
Chapter 42: Marty’s Place
Tuesday, 4:00 PM
Shane entered the building easily enough, and by the time he had made it through the first floor, he was positive Marty Feldman had sought refuge someplace else. That the building had housed Marty’s criminal enterprise was plain as well.
There were multiple rooms on the second floor where people could sleep. Shane found a weight room as well. One room had all the fittings for a small but functional armory, a place for weapons to be modified and repaired. In the basement, he found a large, well-stocked pantry and refrigerator.
Marty and his colleagues could have waited out any sort of law enforcement storm if they had needed to.
Where did you go, huh, Marty? Shane wondered. He glanced up at the corners in the hallway, saw a small camera, and smiled. Shane flipped the camera off, turned, and went back to the main room. There were several sofas and overstuffed chairs, a decent-sized kitchen, and a variety of other items that seemed particularly mundane, especially in the current setting.
In the hall, Shane paused as he caught sight of a door tucked back into the wall. Frowning, he stepped up to it and found it was slightly ajar. He nudged it open with his foot, eased his hand in, and flipped the light switch.
Empty shelves stood against the walls, but the room’s window caught his eye. Someone had left a thick line of salt across the sill. Glancing down at the floor, he saw more salt had been poured along the threshold to make a long, unbroken barrier.
You knew what you were stealing, didn’t you, Marty. A nice little room to store all your ghost friends in. And how many came through here, huh? How many were sent off to whoever you’re working for?
I don’t think there are any clues as to where you’ve gone off to, Marty, Shane thought. Don’t think that’s going to let you get away. Not at all.
Now, I just want to find you all the more.
With a grim smile, Shane left the building.
***
Marty found he was perspiring, so he turned the closed-circuit television off.
He had never seen a human look like a predator before, and he had seen a great many bad men while in prison.
None of them had walked or acted like Shane Ryan.
The man was dangerous. Far more than any other person Marty had encountered before. He hadn’t considered it, not even after the beating.
But seeing Shane in the Clubhouse, the way he had moved…
Marty shook his head and sat down in his chair.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
The question was harsh, his introspection unrelenting.
How am I going to get out of this?
He closed his eyes and thought about the question.
I am going to start making small withdrawals. I won’t be able to put them back into a bank or into a vault, or anything like that. I have no doubt that Alex will be able to find a way to hack into them.
I’ll need to keep the money on me. I don’t need to worry about clothes, or a car, or any of that.
I’ll be able to get away if I keep it on the down-low, and if I make sure to plan it all out.
Marty opened his eyes and nodded to himself.
Yes, I need to plan it out. Every last step.
He stood up and crossed the small studio apartment to the sink. It was barely large enough to fit a plate into, but it served his purpose. He turned on the faucet, cupped his hands, and took a long sip.
Time to do some research, he thought. He dried his hands, picked up his knapsack, and left the room.
He was headed toward the library.
Chapter 43: Dinner
Tuesday, 5:30 PM
Hal Doolittle sat in his home office, the door closed and locked, his computer on, and the volume turned down. He was perspiring as he watched the video on the screen, one hand on the mouse, keeping the cursor hovering over the X in the right corner of the incognito window. His blood thundered through his chest, making his heart ache. But he couldn’t look away.