Nothing happened.
Whatever Tory could visualize, it didn’t work for me.
Frustrated, I screamed Cooper’s name in my head. Imagined chasing him down.
Didn’t feel a thing.
“This is stupid.” My fingers curled into fists. “How can I summon a dog with my mind?”
“Coop-er!” Hi cupped his hands and shouted into the wind. “Yo, Coop! Here boy!”
Without a better idea, I joined him. Shelton added his voice as well. The three of us called and called, hoping our Hail Mary would connect.
I was about to give up when a gray streak shot from the brush. Coop raced over, favoring his forepaw, bristling from head to tail.
The wolfdog stopped a few paces away. Flashed gleaming white teeth.
Hi backed up a step. “Easy now, killer. We’re family, remember?”
The wolfdog was clearly agitated.
It occurred to me that we’d never flared near the mongrel without Tory present.
Unexpectedly, Coop sat. Then, tipping back his head, he unleashed a full-throated howl.
My eyes widened in recognition. “He knows.”
I met Coop’s golden eyes with my own. Willed him to understand.
Come with us. Help us find her.
Coop cocked his head. Whined. Then he rose and trotted to my Explorer. Pawed the door.
Despite everything, I smiled. “The mutt’s in.”
“Okay, great.” Shelton’s hands rose. “But where do we start?”
I looked at Coop. He barked. Scratched at the handle a second time.
The image of a forest popped into my head.
A sending from Coop? From Tory? Some trick of our flare power?
I didn’t know. But suddenly, I was certain what to do. “Back to Drayton Hall.”
Surprised, Hi and Shelton started to speak at once.
I cut them off. “We go back to where we lost Tory’s trail. Let Cooper track from there.”
“The kidnapper drove away,” Hi pointed out. “There won’t be any trail to track.”
“Not one we can see.” I was already moving toward my car. “But maybe the dog has other methods.”
I opened the door. Coop leaped inside and settled in the passenger seat.
Turning back to Hi and Shelton.
“You two have a better idea?”
I had a decision to make.
Ella was huddled at the back of our cell, head against the wall, staring at nothing.
I approached the steel bars. Moving down the line, I tested every one. None wobbled or shifted. I wondered how twentieth-century steel had made its way down into a nineteenth-century slave pen. Decades ago, someone must’ve restored this horrible prison to its original condition.
I didn’t want to think about why.
Glancing up into the gloom, I saw a chain hanging fifteen feet off the ground.
“That’s how he lowers the bucket,” Ella had explained bitterly. “Food comes down every twelve hours. Like we’re freaking livestock.”
I can make it. Flaring, I can reach that loop on the end.
But not without showing Ella something I’m not allowed to share.
What choice do I have? Am I supposed to take my secret to the grave?
Because, no mistake, that’s where this was headed.
I didn’t tell Ella what Hawfield had said in the barn. How he intended to “take care of the problem.” Why terrify her? Why take away her hope?
Given what I knew, I couldn’t hold back. Not with our lives on the line.
“Ella?”
My friend looked up. “Yeah?” Weariness dulled her voice.
“I think I can grab that chain.” I pointed into the dim emptiness above. “Climb up.”
Ella shook her head. “I tried myself a half dozen times. You can’t reach it, not even if you climb the bars first.”
“I’m going to try. Can you keep watch?”
“Sure.” Ella’s voice carried zero optimism. “But it might be better if I stood below to catch you. Or boost you. Or something.”
“No. I don’t want to be surprised if Hawfield comes back.”
“Okay.” Ella rose and walked to the bars. “But while I think you’re a born soccer player, there’s no way you can jump that high. Unless you’ve got moves I haven’t seen.”
Maybe one or two.
Assuming I don’t just black out instead.
I shoved the unwelcome thought aside. There were no other options.
“I have to try. Keep lookout?”
Ella nodded, peered through the bars to where we knew the entrance to be. “All clear.”
Come on, DNA. Don’t fail me now.
Eyes closed. Mind clear.
SNAP.
As if answering my prayers, the power unfolded easily.
My senses awoke. Amplified. Power flooded my limbs.
For the first time in days, I didn’t have to fight to stay upright.
I flared, strong as ever before.
No time to celebrate.
Gauging angles, I took two running steps toward the wall. Leaped.
My sneakers hit the stones four feet up. Legs flexing, I pushed off with every fiber of flare strength I could muster, propelling myself backward, outward, toward the center of the room.
I catapulted across the cell. Body soaring, I twisted in midair like a diver, hands flailing toward the black quadrant of space where the chain should be.
Nothing. Panic jolted me. I was going to fall, and hard.
Then my fingertips brushed metal.
I clawed the slippery links.
My left hand slipped free.
But the right one stuck, my fingers wrapping the wet steel in a death grip.
I spun wildly, one-armed, my body pirouetting across the chamber. The metal links cut cruelly into my palm. My shoulder screamed, the bone nearly ripping from its socket.
The hold began to slip.
Arm muscles burning, I propelled forward, throwing my left hand back up onto the slick chain. With both hands in place, I shifted my weight, easing the strain on my joints.
Panting, I held on tight, my momentum carrying me in lazy arcs above the stone floor five yards below.
“Anytime, Brennan.” Then Ella glanced over her shoulder. “Holy crap!”
She scurried beneath me, staring up in shock. “You did it! How in the world?”
“Beginner’s luck,” I grunted, keeping my eyes slitted to tamp their golden glow. “I’m gonna climb up, and see if there’s a way out.”
“Go go go!” Ella bounced with sudden energy. “Then, for the love of God, come back!”
Gathering my strength, I began to haul my body upward, a few links at a time. After five exhausting pulls, I’d ascended high enough to wiggle a foot inside the loop.
I paused, hanging in the fetal position. Breathless. My arms were overjoyed at the unexpected respite. I knew that without the added flare power, I’d never have made it that far.
“Great job, girl!” Eyes blazing, I could make out Ella clearly, fifteen feet below.
I prayed she couldn’t see me just as well.
Concentrate. The job isn’t done.
Hanging like a spider, I cast my hyper-senses out in a net.
Water was dripping from somewhere high overhead. Looking straight up, I could make out the moldy wooden planks sealing off the ancient stonework. Flaring, I could see how misshapen the boards were, twisted and swollen from years of exposure to sunlight and water. Trickles of illumination filtered through the rotting wood.
A covered well. That must open to the outside.
But the distance was another thirty yards, minimum. I couldn’t climb all that way. We were much farther underground than I’d thought.
>
A cocktail of dank, musty odors filled my nostrils. Mold. Wet stone. Rotting vegetation. I shut off the rancid flow before my stomach emptied.
My fingers burned. The rusty chain bored into my palms. Flare sensitivity was making the ascent doubly painful—my nerves were on fire—but I needed the extra power to keep going.
I couldn’t reach the walls—the chain I dangled from was centered in a shaft at least ten feet across. Harnessing my flare vision, I studied the stonework, searching for some other way—any way—out of this terrible well.
There.
Ten feet above me, a rectangular hole cut into the stonework.
“I see something,” I called down to Ella. “A way out, maybe.”
“Okay!” Ella’s voice echoed loudly in my enhanced ears.
“I have to get higher.”
Taking a deep breath, I gathered my strength for the treacherous assent.
I can do this. Ten more feet.
Reach. Grab. Pull.
Reach. Grab. Pull.
Three more lunges brought me level with the opening.
It was a fetid, black maw, with no hint of light. I glanced up again. The chain ran through a small opening in the wooden boards, but the top seemed forever away.
A look back at the dark gap in the wall.
Neither option was appealing.
Gassed, I opted for crawling over climbing.
Shifting my weight, I kicked out with both legs. Began to swing the chain across the shaft.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Slowly, my momentum brought me near the lip of the opening.
Timing was everything.
On the next upswing I flung myself forward, launching my upper body into the crevasse.
My knees cracked against the wall below, skinning painfully as I worm-wiggled into the tunnel mouth. There I paused, gasping for air while I rubbed my bruised and abraded limbs.
“I’m in some type of tunnel,” I called down. “I’ll see where it leads, then come get you.”
“Be careful!” Then, with a slight quaver. “Please hurry back.”
“I will, Ella. I promise.”
Rising on all fours, I began crawling down the passage.
Grimy stonework passed beneath my hands and knees. I traveled as fast as I dared, flare senses on maximum.
For the first twenty feet, the tunnel sloped gently downward. Then the grade steepened, the passage dropping into a black pool of shadows even my flare vision couldn’t pierce.
The floor became covered in a slick wet moss that came loose under my fingers. Wet leaves coated the tunnel’s sides, along with a layer of something sticky I didn’t want to identify.
I inched down the incline cautiously, testing the greasy surface as I descended.
A loud bang sounded ahead.
Behind me, the chain rattled.
I froze, ears probing, but silence quickly reasserted itself.
Distracted by the noises, I failed to place my next hand with care.
My palm slipped. In an instant my body was tumbling forward. I plummeted down the shaft, unable to halt my headfirst plunge along on its filmy surface.
Seconds later, I rolled from the chute onto more wet stone. Scrambling to my feet, I examined the dark chamber in which I’d been deposited. The room was the same dimensions as the prison from which I’d escaped. But no endless well above, no line of bars across.
Wiping muck from my hands, I attempted to get my bearings.
My instincts told me I’d fallen back to the same depth as the cell holding Ella.
Find a connecting tunnel. Free Ella. Then get the hell out of here.
Straining my flare vision, I spotted an opening at the other end of the chamber. I squeezed through, found myself in a smooth, brick-walled tunnel running in both directions.
A flash of light.
“What the hell?”
I spun toward the voice.
Hawfield was ten feet away, holding his lantern, a stunned expression on his face.
“Damn gymnast!” Hawfield charged, one hand reaching for his gun. His massive bulk filled the narrow tunnel.
I fled in the opposite direction.
“There’s nowhere to run!” Hawfield bellowed.
Boots pounded behind me.
Reaching a T intersection, I shot to the right, with no idea where I was going.
Crack! Crack!
Stone chips flew as bullets tore through the space I’d just vacated.
Oh my God oh my God oh my God!
Searing heat rose in my chest. Haloes appeared at the edge of my vision.
No! Not now!
My senses began to overload. I stumbled into another crossroad, cut left.
Footsteps echoed a few paces behind me.
Shock waves traveled my nervous system.
Disoriented, I tripped, landing heavily on the ground.
Rolling, I saw another chute to my left. Cold air drifted from its mouth.
“Game’s over, honey.” Hawfield loomed above me, sucking in wet, panting breaths.
The detective pulled the slide on the HK45.
Click.
With a last gasp, I scurried for the hole in the wall and shimmied into the adjacent room.
“Get back here!” Hawfield growled.
I rolled sideways as the gun barrel appeared in the opening.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
A deafening roar filled the chamber.
Somehow, my flare hung on by a thread.
I covered my ears, tried to block out the gunshots reverberating in my brain.
Through a cloud of pulverized stone, I spotted salvation.
Stairs. Leading up.
I took them at a dead sprint.
Behind me, I heard the detective force his way through the gap.
“Give it up, kid!” Hawfield craned his neck. “I’ll chase you down like a dog!”
The stairs were high and incredibly steep, with a tiny square of light at the top.
Reaching the apex, I felt a light breeze on my face. Heard a sparrow’s call.
Ignoring sounds of pursuit, I slithered through an old trapdoor and exited a small cave.
Fresh air. Blinding sunlight.
Tall trees surrounding me, staring down with solemn faces.
I wavered a moment, frozen in indecision.
What about Ella?
No choice. I couldn’t do anything for my friend without ducking Hawfield first.
I’ll be back, Ella. I swear on my life.
Picking a direction at random, I bolted into the woods.
“Hiram, look out!”
Too late. The leash jerked from my fingers.
“Oh, crap!” I stumbled, nearly face-planted on the pavement. Caught a lone glimpse of Coop’s hindquarters disappearing through a line of magnolias.
Shelton smacked his forehead. “Nice job, Stolowitski. He’s loose!”
“Told you it wouldn’t work!” I shot back, rubbing my wrenched shoulder. “When has Coop ever agreed to my authority?”
Ben held his tongue, but his golden glare spoke volumes.
We were back in the Drayton Hall parking lot. Less than two hours had passed since Tory went missing there, but it felt like a million years.
I wiped sweat from my forehead, could feel my cheeks blazing scarlet. “Hey, next time you try to restrain that monster. Coop must weigh eight hundred pounds! It’s like walking a grizzly bear.”
Shelton rolled his yellow eyes. “What now?”
“What else?” Ben took off after the wolfdog. “We follow!”
“Great. Running.” With a groan, I lumbered after him. “Worst birthday ever!”
Ben had driven back to
the plantation like an aspiring NASCAR champion. Coop selfishly took shotgun, staring intently ahead, seemingly in agreement with our chosen route. Shelton and I sat in the back, staring out our windows like a couple of weirdoes. Mesmerized. Neither of us had ever ridden in a car while flaring.
So many things to see. To hear and smell. A constant sensory barrage.
I wanted to take the whole world and eat it.
Ben glanced at us once, in the rearview, and chuckled. I guess he’d done it before.
But after twenty minutes of breakneck speed, my canine DNA decided to sledgehammer my brain. Turning onto the plantation’s long driveway, my flare suddenly spiked like hot monkey fever, then nearly fizzled out completely. I broke out in cold sweat, nose burning, vision strobing, ears ringing like a hot microphone. It’s a miracle I didn’t mess my shorts.
Beside me, Shelton winced and rubbed his temples. The car swerved momentarily as Ben gritted his teeth, his face gone paler than a Twilight vampire. Even Coop reacted, shaking his head as if to fend off a swarm of bees.
The wackiness passed as abruptly as it started. I nearly coughed up a lung, but my other body parts seemed to function okay. I was relieved, but more than a little spooked—Tory’s recent blackout was fresh in my memory. I wasn’t anxious to lose consciousness and roll into a ditch or something. Not if I could help it.
In any case, our Viral telepathic jump circle refused to engage, probably because we didn’t have the slightest idea how to engage it. Without Tory, we three bozos were flying blind. No, worse than that—we couldn’t even locate the airplane. It was during our last failed attempt that Cooper yanked my arm from its socket and bolted for the hills.
So Shelton and I bombed after Ben, through the magnolias and onto the humongous lawn fronting the manor house, in hopeless pursuit of an enraged runaway wolf hybrid.
Flaring, I spotted Ben easily, fifty feet ahead, dashing eastward across the acre of grass. Coop was thirty yards farther up, bounding at full speed toward the woods on the opposite side.
“Wait!” Shelton pointed the other direction. “The barn’s that way, on the west side of the grounds!”
“Coop doesn’t seem interested!” I shouted as we ran. “What’s this way?”
As I spoke, Coop reached the tree line and disappeared among the shadowy trunks.