Priscilla sat at the table. On her right sat a slender young woman in jeans and sweater. She was the only one who was the correct size to be the person we had followed. Next to her and opposite me sat a small woman in her mid-fifties in a flannel shirt and jeans. The next two women looked to be about college age. Both wore University of Chicago sweatshirts and faded jeans. The one in faded blue had blond hair moussed into a lengthy flat-top haircut. The woman in faded gray wore her long brown hair in a very fifties pony-tail. I couldn't make out the person whose back was toward me.
The general topic of conversation was their next move. A judge in downstate Illinois had recently ruled against a lesbian
in a child custody case. They discussed various acts of violence against her person and property. They switched to an antiabortion group, the leader of which they suspected of being behind the fire bombing of an abortion clinic. Again they coolly discussed possible means of wreaking violet revenge on them. Nothing about a kidnapped twelve-year-old.
Suddenly the woman on the floor snapped her book shut and said, “Everybody stop.”
Several people started to ask various forms of “What's up?”
“Hush!” the woman commanded. “We're being watched. I can feel it.”
Shit, I said to myself. I wanted to close the door but didn't want to risk the slightest movement.
Priscilla snorted contemptuously. “Stephanie, you've been to one too many tarot card readings. I can't think of a safer place than this. We'reâ”
“There!” Stephanie screamed, pointing toward the door behind which we crouched. Chairs scraped back. Faces turned to us. In the instant before we turned to flee, I saw the face of the sixth person. I thought I recognized Prentice Dowalski, hustler extraodinaire.
No time for a second look. “Run!” I said as they started toward us.
We tried flying back the way we came. The abrupt appearance of a wall inches from my nose put an end to a mad dash. More cautiously but as quickly as possible we tried to move down and out.
Within seconds we'd lost our way. We managed to get out of the locker room area and down to the third floor, but neither of us could remember where the exit was for the next descent. Sounds of those following came sporadically. The darkness hampered them as much as it did us.
We came to a dead end and had to double back. We tried doors on every side. New apartments, dead ends with new appliances scattered around to bang into. The obstacles prevented anything like rapid progress. We came to the door
through which we'd emerged from above. While Scott crept farther along, I listened a moment. The sound of squabbling voices came closer. I turned to realize I couldn't see Scott. I started off down the corridor.
“Here,” he called, about twenty feet ahead and on the right. A window at the far end of the corridor let in enough light for me to see a door sway in the corridor.
“Come on,” Scott urged.
I hurried forward. As I got to the door, I turned for a quick glance back. A female figure emerged from the staircase with a flashlight in her hand. The light crept toward us. We slammed the door and dashed forward. We found ourselves in another maze of passages. Sounds of pursuit nearing forced us to dangerous speed. Through the uncertain light we blundered and stumbled. Finally we emerged on a balcony overlooking a vast space. Above, the new skylight told me we'd entered the nave of the old church. We had sufficient light to see our way down from the balcony. Two sets of steps on opposite sides led into the abyss below. We heard feet pounding behind us. I glanced down. We could see each level of the unfinished lofts as they branched out. A quick look showed no sign of anyone below us cutting off our retreat. We'd have to descend into the maze.
“This way,” we told each other. Seconds later I realized he'd gone down the other steps. Before I could try retracing my way, the door we'd come through burst open. I turned and flew down the stairs. On the second level I almost boxed myself in, taking a wrong turn into a master bedroom. I reemerged and glanced quickly around. On the level above me and across the gaping chasm, I saw a flashlight bobbing erratically from side to side. For an instant the light caught Scott.
“Get him!” a voice screamed.
The vast room echoed now with shouting voices and thundering footsteps. Above me on my side, I heard slower pursuit. No light shone on this side.
I rushed to my right and found a grand staircase. I hurried
down, then paused at the bottom. I couldn't see an opening that led up to meet up with Scott.
“Run!” I heard him shout. He was on a series of steps a level and a half above me. “I'll meet you outside.” He gestured frantically and disappeared. Despite his words I tried desperately to find a way to get up to the other side. In the precious moments I used on this task my pursuers closed in.
“Hold it, asshole.”
I turned. The heavy-set woman who'd been reading on the floor stood at the head of a contingent of three, ten feet in front of me. They blocked the way to a series of steps down. “We got one,” she called out.
I dashed straight for the closest woman. She flinched for a second, but her foot darted out in a well-aimed karate kick. I'd had similar training and managed to deflect the blow with my right arm. It still hurt like hell, but I managed to shove her as I dove past. She fell into the other two, and I rushed for the flight of stairs behind them.
On the ground floor now, I looked for any kind of exit. The doors were locked tight. This section had all new windows. Each had double-thick safety glass that you'd need a truck to burst through. I was far too lost to be able to find the way we'd come in the first time. Behind me I heard several loud screams and a yodel of triumph. Had they captured Scott? I turned a corner and came upon a pile of window casements. I'd stumbled on the spot where the workmen had stopped putting in new windows that day. I gave the old window a swift look-see. Old and opaque. I picked up a board and smashed the glass. Only rusted metal grating stood between me and freedom. Bracing my arms on the window sides, I pounded my foot against it. It gave on the second thunk; with the third, it clattered to the ground. I jumped through; dropped three feet to the ground, and ran. I didn't go far; I stopped at the hedge to look back. The wind howled around me, but as yet no rain or snow fell.
A face appeared at the opening I'd created. After searching
looks left and right she disappeared. I stayed still and caught my breath. Then light appeared at the window. I saw Priscilla's face as she flashed the beam around the building's exterior. I crouched unmoving in my hiding place. The beam couldn't penetrate the thick evergreen hedge. Moments later the light disappeared.
I spent the next thirty minutes in two painstaking circles around the outside of the building, looking for Scott. I halted when I realized he could be doing the same thing. We could circle each other endlessly. I waited. Time crept by at an achingly slow pace. No sounds came from inside or outside the building. After fifteen minutes, I decided to go back in. Scott could be captured, trapped, hiding, anything. So far they hadn't called the cops. Assuming they were the Lesbians for Freedom and Dignity, they'd be reluctant to draw police attention to themselves, especially if they were in residence illegally. For similar reasons, I wasn't eager to call the cops.
Carefully I returned to our original point of entry. Slowly I eased back the board and listened intently. No sound. I crawled through the opening and jumped the two feet to the floor. Instantly bright light shone in my face. Powerful hands gripped me from all sides. Wrenching my arms painfully behind me, they dragged me through the complex. We met Priscilla in the center of the old church under the massive skylight.
She took the flashlight from the one called Stephanie and shone it in my face.
“Macho Mason,” she sneered. She waved the flashlight at the two others gathered on her right. “I told you he'd come back for his pal.”
“Where's Scott?” I asked.
She pointed. “Up. We've heard him, but we haven't been able to catch him. We've got the exits covered. He can't get down without getting caught. We figured you'd be back to look for him. We found your entrance and waited.”
They led me back to the ground level of the loft room. One of the women pulled the belt from her pants and used it to secure
my hands behind me. She stepped back. Priscilla placed the flashlight ten feet away on the railing for the first flight of stairs to the first loft. The diffused light showed three women and no Prentice.
“What'd you hear upstairs?” Stephanie said.
“Fuck you,” I said.
She kicked me in the nuts. I doubled over and slumped to the ground, groaning in agony.
“Answer or you get more of that,” she commanded.
Gasping for breath, I waited for the waves of pain and nausea to subside. Breathing under control I asked, “Where's my nephew?”
Stephanie had a gravelly whiskey voice, whether natural or acquired, I couldn't tell. She said, “We ask the questions.”
“We took him,” Priscilla said.
I struggled to my feet. “If he's harmed in any way, I'll kill you.”
“Do that,” she said calmly and gave a ripple of laughter. “We've been calling your place to give you a message, but you haven't been home. Leaving a kidnap message on an answering machine is stupid, and Carpenter's number is unlisted.”
“Why'd you kidnap Jerry?” I asked.
“To stop your meddling. We don't need you guys snooping around. As it turns out, our fears were quite well founded. Here you are, and you've heard too much. You're forcing us to unusual action. We can't keep you, and we can't let you go. If we have you, your nephew is expendable.”
A tremendous bellow split the silence. I looked up in time to see a shape hurtling down. I leaped back. Something landed with a tremendous crash halfway between Priscilla and me. Fragments flew in every direction. I scrambled to the railing, twisted around, and clutched the flashlight in my tied hands. I flicked it off and ran for the stairs. I heard the women begin to follow. Another bellow split the air. I stopped and looked up. A massive object tipped at a crazy angle from the top loft. I dashed up the stairs. A second later another crash sounded behind me. From the top of the landing I looked down. Halfway
down, the stairs no longer existed. The women at the bottom shouted in frustration. Priscilla put a quick stop to that. She issued commands. The group below scattered. One raced up the stairs on the other side of the vast space. The other hurried through other openings to pursue paths I couldn't be aware of. I scrambled upward, careful of my balance with my hands still tied. Two thirds of the way up I met Scott coming down. It took only seconds to untie me. We could only use the flashlight sparingly for fear it would alert pursuers to our presence. Even with its help, we wound up in the locker room again.
“Shit,” I said.
Sounds of pursuit came from the corridor behind. We hurried through the locker room and into the gym. Empty. We raced across the floor and through the double doors. Construction materials lay scattered about a wide entranceway. To the left, the corridor ended in two opaque windows. Across from us was a solid brick wall. To the right a wide staircase led down. We paused at the top of the stairs. Voices drifted from below. We raced back to the doors.
“We could fight them,” Scott said.
“I don't like the odds. Remember, Monica said they've all had special training in self-defense.” While we gasped these words at each other, we wedged planks against the doors. Someone shoved them from the other side. The planks budged but held. Then I heard the sounds of people hammering against the doors.
“That won't hold long,” Scott said.
“I haven't seen any evidence of weapons,” I said, “but I don't want to take chances. They sounded pretty bloodthirsty earlier. We'll fight if we have to.”
Scott ran to the windows. I rushed to the top of the stairs. I heard angry voices, then Stephanie's overriding the others. “Priscilla's not here. I'm using the gun on them if we get there before she does.”
The sound of smashing glass caused me to turn. Scott had a plank, accomplishing the same thing I had done earlier. I saw
the last shards of glass fall outward. I hurried over. Drenching rain driven by a howling wind greeted my vision. The storm had taken a piss-poor time to break. Outside the window, one of the rusted fire escapes we'd seen earlier offered us our only chance. At one point some fool, to keep intruders out, had placed mesh screening over the outer window, violating fire codes and rendering the fire escape useless. Two blasts of the timber in Scott's powerful arms, and the rusted metal flew into the night. No point in looking back. I couldn't remember exactly, but I hoped this was the fire escape that held together all the way to the ground. I chose not to think of the alternatives. Scott threw the board aside and scrambled onto the metal planking. It squeaked ominously. Quickly I joined him. The structure groaned. I examined the massive bolts holding stairs to the building. Not reassuring. The ones still in place seemed to be secured mostly by rust and a prayer. I didn't think about what would happen if they gave way.