RUNAWAY TWINS and RUNAWAY TWINS IN ALASKA: BOXED SET (7 page)

Justin clutched the pack to his chest. "It's nothing, sir. Really."

"Give me the bag, kid, or I'll take it from you."

**

Elder Mobly trembled
as the Prophet thundered on about betrayal and lies and traitors in the midst of the Sheba Hill faithful. Mobly tried to interrupt on several occasions, but the Prophet ignored him and continued his diatribe. "I told you we couldn't trust that boy. I told you God had warned me about him." The items from Justin's backpack were displayed on the long table in Elder Mobly's office. Justin was sitting disconsolate in a chair flanked by the two burly security guards.

"Maybe the boy can explain," said Mobly.

"More lies," said the Prophet. "Explanations aren't necessary." He motioned toward the table. "Three knives and the rest of these supplies. Was he planning a picnic? The only answer I want from you, young man, is, are the twins involved? Have you corrupted their minds? Have you spoiled my plans for them?"

"Rachel and Janie have nothing to do with this," said Justin.

"So you say."

"What would I do with two girls out there in this weather? I was thinking of leaving and heading back to Alaska. It's what I've always wanted to do, ever since my father and uncle died. It has nothing to do with you, with the temple, or with Rachel and Janie."

The Prophet stared at him long and hard.

**

When Justin didn't appear
for breakfast, the twins were immediately concerned. They asked Elder Mobly about it, and his nervous response that Justin was being sent to the Texas facility for more concentrated training caused them to jump to their feet.

"Why? When? What do you mean?"

Mobly coughed. "Well, he has a few issues that can best be handled by our people in Texas. When? As soon as this snowstorm ends and the driver can negotiate the road down the mountain.

**

In their room Rachel said
, "We've got to do something. We've only got an hour and a half before class starts, and the snow is already starting to let up. Wherever they've got Justin, they'll be taking him up the mountain soon. There's no Texas, just like there wasn't any Texas for Mrs. Riggs. There's only the mine and that deep hole."

Janie's eyes were filled with tears. She was sitting on the bed next to her sister. "But what can we do? What—"

Rachel said, "I don't know, but we've got to do something, try something. We can't let them murder him."

"They'll kill us, too," said Janie.

"Then so be it," Rachel said, taking her sister in her arms. "What better way to die than trying to save our friend."

Janie wiped her eyes and managed a smile. "Better than marriage to J.J. Flack, I suspect."

"Anything's better than that," said Rachel.

Janie recovered her composure and jumped to her feet. "Then let's get busy. Dress as warm as we can—our heaviest stuff. Extra socks, hats, caps, boots—the whole bit. We can't get our packs from the laundry room. The guard's there, a few feet from the laundry room door."

"I know," said Rachel. "We'll have to go just as we are—except for these." She retrieved a sheathed hunting knife and a small flashlight they had found and had secreted under the shoe rack in their closet.

"That knife won't be much help against the guards," said Janie.

"I know. We'll have to think of something else. We'll have to get to the mine before they do. Wait for them."

"Then what?"

Rachel shrugged. "I wish I knew."

"Well, let's hurry!" Janie exclaimed, looking out the window. "The snow's almost stopped. They'll be taking him soon."

"Down the back stairs and out the back door," said Rachel. "I wish we could get to the laundry room and get our stuff."

"Me, too, but we have to go now, before they think to guard the back stairs. We've got to try to save Justin."

13
The Pit

The girls kept to the trees
for the first mile or so after they left the lodge. They knew they had to stay off the road that led into the higher Bitterroots. With the snow abating, their footprints would be readily visible to the guards who would be driving the SUV carrying Justin to his doom.

The sky was clearing, but the temperature was falling; and the girls bent into the still howling wind as they left the tree cover and emerged on the powdery snow on the side of the road. They knew they were now making tracks, but they believed that this far above the camp, the guards would not be paying close attention. And besides, the wind was agitating the light powder, making close examination of footprints extremely difficult. They continued higher and higher, always listening carefully for the sound of the SUV that they knew would soon be close on their heels. They hoped that before long they would come to the sign Justin had described, the sign that would tell them to leave the road and head cross country toward the entrance to the mine.

Janie cried above the wind, "How far? How far have we come? How far did Justin say it was?"

"About six miles," said Rachel. "I think we've come that far. Keep a sharp eye for a small tin sign nailed to a tree and for the trail through the woods."

"Why isn't there a road, if it's a mine."

"Maybe there was a road and it's gone—covered with new growth. Or maybe a road goes to it from a different direction."

The wind had let up and they were no longer shouting, but suddenly Janie screamed, "Look up ahead, on that tree. A sign, a tin sign. We're there." They raced toward the trail, but before they could reach the cutoff, they heard the sound of a large vehicle chugging up the road behind them.

"Off the road, Janie, quick—into the trees!" When they were safely out of sight, they saw the dark SUV creep slowly past them toward the sign. It then stopped and its lights went out.

"We've got to get to the mine before they do," Rachel cried. "We can run through the trees on the side of the trail. They won't be running, and Justin will be fighting them."

"What do we do when we get there?" asked Janie.

"We go into the mine from the front corner so we don't leave any obvious tracks and then make our way back to the pit. We've got the little flashlight."

"What then?"

"I've got an idea. I don't know if it'll work. But we can try. I'll tell you what I've got in mind when we get there. Let's go!"

They ran desperately through the trees and brush, knowing they must arrive at the mine before Justin and the guards. Whatever slim chance they had of rescuing their friend lay in getting inside first.

As they ran, Janie called out breathlessly, "I hope your plan works."

"It has to."

**

The gaping mouth of the mine
was boarded over as Justin had told them, but the job had been done carelessly and there was enough room for Rachel and Janie to squeeze through the corner without disturbing the boards. And because the girls had approached from the side and had climbed over the stones piled high near the entrance, they were fairly certain they hadn't left noticeable footprints.

Once inside, they halted and listened intently for indications that Justin and the two murderous security men were nearing the mine. There was silence outside, so they peeked through the spaces between the boards to see what they could see.

Nothing. No sights. No sounds.

"They're taking their time," said Janie. "We couldn't have been that far ahead of them."

"I'm sure Justin is slowing them down."

"Let's go," said Rachel. "Get out the flashlight. Let's head on back to the pit. I'll explain what I have in mind."

**

Even though his feet were
bound about ten inches apart, Justin dug his heels into the soft snow that covered the trail. He also twisted and squirmed and did everything else he could think of to slow his progress toward the mine's entrance. He was determined to make the guards' task as difficult as possible. He had no desire to be a cooperative victim, a willing participant in his own death. He wished he were bigger and stronger so he could put up more of a struggle.

"Fight all you want, kid," said the bull-necked guard on Justin's right. "It won't do you any good. We'll still get you into the mine, and we'll still toss you into the hole."

"Doesn't it bother you that I'm just a boy?" Justin gasped, still battling with all his might.

"Why should it bother us?" said the second guard, an unshaven fat man with yellow teeth. "We do what the Prophet tells us. Flack wants you down the hole…down the hole you'll go."

Justin made an especially vigorous effort to break free and the bull-necked guard cuffed him across the back of the neck. "Cut it out, kid, or we'll deal with you right here and carry you the rest of the way." He chuckled at what he was considering and then added, "But I guess we won't do anything premature. Flack wants you to go down that hole alive. He wants you to suffer—something about God's will for bad boys….But Flack didn't say anything about not causing you some extra pain before we get there. So keep it up, keep fighting us, see what happens."

The yellow-toothed guard said, "Flack thinks you might survive the fall down the hole. That's what he wants—worse for you down there if you're still breathing. He likes the idea of you moaning and groaning down there. I think he's wrong about the hole. I think you'll die when you hit bottom, but we'll see."

"Some fine religion you've got," said Justin.

"God's ways aren't our ways," the guard said, laughing.

"I can believe it," said Justin.

**

Deep inside the mine
, near the downshaft, Rachel had finished explaining her plan and now turned to Janie for her reaction.

"Everything will have to work perfectly," said Janie. "One little hitch or hesitation on their part, or ours, and we're dead."

"I know."

**

After kicking the boards away
from the entrance, the guards pushed Justin ahead of them into the long horizontal tunnel that led to the downshaft. Justin's bound feet prevented him from maintaining his balance, and after the push he fell to his knees and refused to budge.

"Get up, kid, or else," said the fat guard.

"Or else what?" Justin said. "Or else you'll hurt me? We all know what's in store for me, so do your worst."

The men exchanged glances and then each reached down and grasped Justin under one of his arms. In this manner they scooped him to his feet and began to drag him forward toward his destruction. The flashlight that Yellow Tooth carried was not much larger than the one the twins had used, and the tunnel was, therefore, poorly lit as the trio trudged deeper into the mine. The shadows on the walls danced high and low in rhythm with the moving light.

Justin knew he was about to die an unpleasant death, a death the depraved J.J. Flack would find particularly satisfying when his minions reported back, but there was nothing Justin could do to prevent the inevitable. His life was over, and he now found himself thinking strange, mournful thoughts. He would never go to high school; he would never learn to drive a car; he would never have a girlfriend or a wife; he would never have children or grandchildren. Grandchildren? He stopped his thought processes abruptly. Grandchildren? Wasn't that a bit over the top in the self-pity department? Imagine, feeling sorry for himself because he wouldn't know his grandchildren. Ho! Ho! He forced his mind to disregard such thoughts, and he began to think about his father and his uncle and even the mother he couldn't remember. Soon he would see all three of them. The thought calmed him, soothed him, gave him peace. He closed his eyes and went limp, essentially giving up his efforts to irritate and frustrate the guards. It was now time to concentrate on what lay ahead, not stubbornly cling to what remained behind. He cleared his mind and began to prepare for eternity.

A peculiar sound penetrated his thoughts. It was incongruous, a sound that didn't belong in a dark mine deep in the Bitterroot Mountains. It was a low, soft cry—mournful, helpless, needy. It seemed to come from far away, from somewhere ahead of them, from below. There was a long silence, and then the sound began again, softer, farther away, mysterious.

"What was that?" the bull-necked guard said, pulling up abruptly. "Was that a human sound?"

"Could be an animal, wounded maybe," said Yellow Tooth.

"Sounded human. Listen."

But the sound had stopped, and when it didn't resume after several minutes, Yellow Tooth shrugged. "Imagination."

"No, it was something."

"Let's get on with it."

But after they moved forward another twenty feet, the moaning began again. They were now within a hundred fifty feet of the pit, and both men halted and stared at each other in confusion. "The hole?" said Bull Neck. "Is it coming from the hole?"

Yellow Tooth flinched. "How could it? There's no one alive down there…is there?"

"I don't know. Listen."

But again there was no sound.

Justin snapped to attention. What was happening? What had they all heard? What were the guards thinking? What were they so worried about? He raised his head and tried to pick up the sounds again, but there was nothing to hear—only silence.

"What's going on?" asked Justin.

"Shut up, kid," said Bull Neck.

They were now moving again, and they were getting closer and closer to the dark, black pit; but they still couldn't see it, for it lay beyond a slight bend in the tunnel. Just before they reached the bend, they once again heard the crying, this time a plaintive plea, a supplication. "That's human," said Bull Neck. "And it's coming from the hole."

"Sounds like it," said Yellow Tooth. "We'll soon find out."

They dragged Justin around the corner, and the three of them stood facing the foreboding downshaft that held so many evil secrets. There were now no more sounds. All was quiet, as if the person in agony had given up, at least for the time being. The men released Justin's arms and pushed him aside. Then they advanced toward the pit, slowly, cautiously, until both stood on the lip of the hole, staring down into the inky blackness. "Nothing," said Bull Neck.