The unmistakable roar of a diesel bus drew my attention to the gravel road leading up to the pit. Air brakes hissed as the long steel carapace of a prison bus pulled up next to the lake. There was movement behind the barred windows.
The front doors jerked open and another armored guard emerged, followed by a stream of handcuffed men, one after another, until maybe twenty of them stood in frightened knot. A second guard exited the bus, and between the two of them, they began herding the prisoners towards the quarry. They didn’t speak. Instead, they simply pointed and the men started stumbling forward.
Anne and Chuck had eased up on either side of me to watch. Anne’s breath tickled my ear as she leaned close and whispered, “You think this is the first busload?”
“Probably. I think those giant bags just got here.”
“If this is where the Mother is, I’m guessing that those men are about to become a fresh batch of bags.”
“Not if we can help it.”
The police van by the edge of the quarry swayed a little, and someone emerged from the back. The top of his white cowboy hat obscured his face as he stepped down. As he straightened up, the wind snatched the hat off his head and ruffled his wispy white hair. He smiled with good humor as his hat tumbled and skidded away from him.
It was Piotr.
39
As a group we flinched back from the edge. Piotr had that effect, like a porcelain doll in a horror movie. He looked perfectly normal, even attractive, but somehow more nightmarish for it.
The sense of wrongness coming off of him was palpable, like seeing a fresh, clean-cut corpse sit up and smile pleasantly at you. As he walked towards the captives, even his stoic guards swayed back ever so slightly.
I started to edge towards the top again, but Anne grabbed my arm. She put her lips on my ear. “I don’t like this. We should go.”
“Can’t. This is my chance. Piotr’s here. I can end this right now.”
She started to speak again, but I pulled away and eased over the crest of the hill so that I could see what was happening. Anne and Chuck silently followed.
As soon as I saw Piotr’s face, I was gripped so strongly by a desire to smash his head in with my baton that I had to clench my fists and my will against the sensation. I squeezed my eyes shut until the tide of compulsion receded. The whole episode only lasted a few seconds, but the near loss of control scared me. I’d never experienced anything like that before.
Down below, two of the silent guards were working. They held a filthy, handcuffed man between them while Piotr looked him over, noting the bruises and split lips with professional interest. At this distance, his voice carried well enough for us to just make out the words.
“Let’s take a look at you. Or rather, inside you.” The man jerked but the sudden movement produced no give in the iron grip of his captors. Piotr ran his hands over the man’s head, smiling and nodding to himself as he were picking out melons at the market. The man’s shudder was visible, even this far away.
“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to join us today. Just don’t have what it takes. But don’t worry, you’ll still be able to help the cause in your own way. I can always use more donors.”
I wondered if Piotr realized how he looked down there, casually herding prisoners like cattle as if he were unloading railroad cars in front of a labor camp. Must we become that which we attempt to destroy? I thought about the portraits in Georgia’s house and the things that I’d done on this journey so far, and about the things I was willing to do before it was over. I didn’t like the comparison, but I didn’t flinch from it. I’d do whatever it took.
Piotr stepped back and the guards pushed the captive away from the edge of the quarry to an open area and flanked him. While the first two guards were busy with that, two more from the group by the van peeled off to grab another victim from the bus. It looked very well practiced. Two guards stood at the van, two were holding a victim for Piotr, and two were standing next to the rejected captive.
The next man got the same treatment with Piotr searching his eyes and touching his face, but this time Piotr smiled and patted him on the cheek. The man tried to lunge forward to get at Piotr. “Good man. You’ll be a welcome addition to the family.”
The man’s feet were bound and he was pushed to the ground where he was, and the next captive was brought up next to him. This went on for several minutes as the captives by the bus were sorted.
We slowly sank back behind the crest of the hill and put our heads close together so that we could talk.
I spoke as quietly as I could. “It’s not going to get any better than this. He’s just standing there out in the open. The longer we wait, the more captives are going to be in the way, and the less time we’ll have before he’s finished and we lose him.”
Chuck nodded. “What’s the plan?”
“It’s pretty simple. I’m going to run down there and snap Piotr’s neck for him.”
“Don’t be stupid,” said Anne. “I don’t care how tough you think you are, you can’t take on six regular bags by yourself and survive, much less six giant ones in body armor and helmets. And after you drop, they’ll be up this hill and all over the two of us in seconds.”
I put my hand on hers, but she pulled away. “I know. That’s why you and Chuck are going back to the car and getting out of here.”
“Not a chance. We’re all going back to the truck together. We’ll do this a different way, one that doesn’t involve suicide.”
“What way is that? When is Piotr ever going to be just standing out in the open like this again? For that matter, what if I can’t find him again, or if I do, what if I can’t get to him? This is my shot. This is why I came here.”
Chuck spoke up and earned himself a dark look. “He’s right. It has to be now.” Good old Chuck. “And I’m going to help him.”
“Goddammit, what did I just say? You two are getting out.”
“And if he gets away when you’re buried under a pile of bags? This is too important to screw up. Two people have a better chance of killing one old man before his goons tear us apart than just one. If nothing else, one of us can distract the bulk of the bad guys while the other goes for Peter.”
“And then both of us are dead. Killing Piotr won’t stop his goons from tearing us apart afterwards.”
He glared at me. “It’s not your call. This is my town. My dead friends. I signed up for this long before you came here and every time we went on a rescue, I put my ass on the line. But I still went. Every time. I’m in it to the end.”
“You are one stubborn son of a bitch.”
“Hell, yeah.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the keys to the Rover carefully so they wouldn’t jingle and then handed them to Anne. She took them from me and put them in her pocket. “Be as quick as you can getting back to the car, and don’t worry about noise once you clear the fence.”
She raised her eyebrows at me. “I’m not going back to the car.”
“But you took the keys.”
“I did. Thanks.”
I had to take a deep breath and will my jaw to unclench in order to speak, and when I did, I did so slowly. “You. Need. To go.”
“If you’re staying, I’m staying. The only way I’m leaving is if I’m following you to the car. If you’re determined to do this, then I’m determined to stay here and keep you from getting killed.”
“Why are you so stubborn?”
“Because I don’t want you to die, jackass. What do you think? Also, since you don’t seem to know much about women, I should point out that you haven’t even started to see stubborn yet.”
I looked into her fierce, angry eyes and saw Patrick staring back at me. Ever since Anne had joined me in my
