The Chain (Adrian McKinty)

Thecharactersandeventsinthisbookarefictitious.Anysimilaritytorealpersons,livingordead,iscoincidentalandnotintendedbytheauthor.Copyright?2019byAdrianMcKintyCoverdesignbyGreggKulickCoverart?GettyImagesAuthorphotographbyLeahGarrettCover?2019HachetteBookGroup,Inc.HachetteBookGroupsupportstherighttofreeexpressionandthevalueofcopyright.Thepurposeofcopyrightistoencouragewritersandartiststoproducethecreativeworksthatenrichourculture.Thescanning,uploading,anddistributionofthisbookwithoutpermissionisatheftoftheauthor’sintellectualproperty.Ifyouwouldlikepermissiontousematerialfromthebook(otherthanforreviewpurposes),pleasecontactpermissions@hbgusa.com.Thankyouforyoursupportoftheauthor’srights.MulhollandBooks/Little,BrownandCompanyHachetteBookGroup1290AvenueoftheAmericas,NewYork,NY10104mulhollandbooks.comfacebook.com/mulhollandbookstwitter.com/mulhollandbooksFirstebookedition:July2019MulhollandBooksisanimprintofLittle,BrownandCompany,adivisionofHachetteBookGroup,Inc.TheMulhollandBooksnameandlogoaretrademarksofHachetteBookGroup,IncThepublisherisnotresponsibleforwebsites(ortheircontent)thatarenotownedbythepublisher.TheHachetteSpeakersBureauprovidesawiderangeofauthorsforspeakingevents.Tofindoutmore,gotohachettespeakersbureau.comorcall(866)376-6591.ISBN978-0-316-53124-5E3-20190530-DA-NF-ORIContents
Cover
TitlePage
Copyright
Epigraph
PartOne:AlltheLostGirls
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PartTwo:TheMonsterintheLabyrinth
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AfterwordandAcknowledgments
DiscoverMoreAdrianMcKinty
AbouttheAuthor
OtherMysteriesandThrillersbyAdrianMcKinty
Thereissomewisdomtobehadintakingthegloomyviewandlookingupontheworldasakindofhell.ArthurSchopenhauer,ParergaandParalipomena,1851Wemustneverbreakthechain.StevieNicks,“TheChain”(originaldemo),1976Explorebookgiveaways,sneakpeeks,deals,andmore.
Tapheretolearnmore
PartOne
AlltheLostGirls
1
Thursday,7:55a.m.
She’ssittingatthebusstopcheckingthelikesonherInstagramfeedanddoesn’tevennoticethemanwiththegununtilhe’salmostnexttoher.
Shecouldhavedroppedherschoolbagandrunacrossthemarshes.She’sanimblethirteen-year-oldandsheknowsalltheswampsandquicksandsofPlumIsland.There’salittlemorningseafogandthemanisbigandclumsy.He’dbenervousaboutpursuitandhe’dcertainlyhavetogiveupthechasebeforetheschoolbuscameateighto’clock.
Allthisgoesthroughherheadinasecond.
Themanisnowstandingrightinfrontofher.He’swearingablackskimaskandpointingthegunatherchest.Shegaspsanddropsherphone.Thisclearlyisn’tajokeoraprank.It’sNovembernow.Halloweenwasaweekago.
“Doyouknowwhatthisis?”themanasks.
“It’sagun,”Kyliesays.
“It’sagunpointedatyourheart.Ifyouscreamorstruggleortrytorun,I’mgoingtoshootyou.Doyouunderstand?”
Shenods.
“Allright.Good.Keepcalm.Putthisblindfoldon.Whatyourmotherdoesinthenexttwenty-fourhourswilldeterminewhetheryouliveordie.Andwhen…ifwedoletyougo,wedon’twantyoutobeabletoidentifyus.”
Trembling,Kylieputsonthepadded,elasticizedblindfold.
Acarpullsinnexttoher.Thedooropens.
“Getin.Watchyourhead,”themansays.
Shefumblesherwayintothecar.Thedoorshutsbehindher.Hermindraces.Sheknowssheshouldn’thavegottenintothevehicle.That’showgirlsvanish.That’showgirlsvanisheveryday.Ifyougetinthecarit’sover.Ifyougetinthecar,you’relostforever.Youdon’tgetinthevehicle,youturnaroundandyourun,run,run.
Toolate.
“Putherseatbelton,”awomansaysfromthefrontseat.
Kyliestartstocryundertheblindfold.
Themanclimbsintothebackseatnexttoherandputsherseatbelton.“Please,justtrytokeepcalm,Kylie.Wereallydon’twanttohurtyou,”hesays.
“Thishasgottobeamistake,”shesays.“Mymomdoesn’thaveanymoney.Shedoesn’tstarthernewjobuntil—”
“Tellhernottotalk!”thewomansnapsfromthefrontseat.
“It’snotaboutthemoney,Kylie,”themansays.“Look,justdon’ttalk,OK?”
Thecardrivesoffhastilyinaslewofsandandgravel.Itaccelerateshardandmovesupthroughthegears.
KylielistensasthecardrivesoverthePlumIslandbridgeandwithawinceshehearsthetuberculargrumbleoftheschoolbusgobythem.
“Keepitslow,”themansays.
ThedoorspowerlockandKyliecursesherselfformissingachance.Shecouldhaveunclickedtheseatbelt,openedthedoor,rolledout.Blindpanicisbeginningtooverwhelmher.“Whyareyoudoingthis?”shewails.
“WhatshouldItellher?”themanasks.
“Don’ttellheranything.Tellhertoshutthehellup,”thewomanreplies.
“Youneedtobequiet,Kylie,”themansays.
ThecarisdrivingfastonwhatisprobablyWaterStreetnearNewburyport.Kylieforcesherselftobreathedeep.Inandout,inandout,thewaytheschoolcounselorsshowedherinthemindfulnessclass.Sheknowsthattostayaliveshehastobeobservantandpatient.She’sintheeighth-gradeacceleratedprogram.Everybodysaysshe’ssmart.Shehastobecalmandnoticethingsandtakeherchanceswhentheycome.
ThatgirlinAustriahadsurvivedandsohadthosegirlsinCleveland.Andshe’dseenthatMormongirlwho’dbeenkidnappedwhenshewasfourteenbeinginterviewedonGoodMorningAmerica.They’dallsurvived.They’dbeenlucky,butmaybeitwasmorethanlucktoo.
Sheswallowsanotherwaveofterrorthatalmostchokesher.
KyliehearsthecardriveupontotheRoute1bridgeatNewburyport.They’regoingovertheMerrimackRivertowardNewHampshire.
“Notsofast,”themanmutters,andthecarslowsforafewminutesbutthengraduallybeginstospeedupagain.
Kyliethinksabouthermom.She’sdrivingtoBostonthismorningtoseetheoncologist.Herpoormom,thisisgoingto—
“OhmyGod,”thewomanwho’sdrivingsays,suddenlyhorrified.
“Whatisit?”themanasks.
“Wejustpassedacopcarwaitingoverthestateline.”
“It’sOK,Ithinkyou’reinthe…no,ohChrist,hislightsarecomingon,”themansays.“He’spullingyouover.Youweregoingtoofast!Youhavetostop.”
“Iknow,”thewomanreplies.
“It’llbeOK.Noonewillhavereportedthiscarstolenyet.It’sbeenonthatsidestreetinBostonforweeks.”
“Thecar’snottheproblem,she’stheproblem.Passmethegun.”
“Whatareyougoingtodo?”
“Whatcanwedo?”
“Wecantalkourwayoutofit,”themaninsists.
“Withablindfoldedkidnappedgirlinthebackseat?”
“Shewon’tsayanything.Willyou,Kylie?”
“No.Ipromise,”Kyliewhimpers.
“Tellhertobequiet.Takethatthingoffherfaceandtellhertolowerherheadandlookdown,”thewomansays.
“Keepyoureyesshuttight.Don’tmakeasound,”themansays,takingtheblindfoldoffandpushingKylie’sheaddown.
Thewomanpullsthecaroverandthepolicevehiclepresumablypullsinbehindher.Thewomanisevidentlywatchingthepolicemanintherearviewmirror.“He’swritingthelicenseplatedowninhislogbook.Probablycalleditinontheradiotoo,”shesays.
“It’sOK.You’lltalktohim.It’llbefine.”
“Allthesestatepoliceprowlershavedashcams,don’tthey?”
“Idon’tknow.”
“They’llbelookingforthiscar.Forthreepeople.We’llhavetohidethecarinthebarn.Maybeforyears.”
“Don’toverreact.He’sonlygoingtowriteyouaspeedingticket.”
Kyliehearsthecrunchofthestatetrooper’sbootsashestepsoutofhisvehicleandwalkstowardthem.
Shehearsthewomanrolldownthedriver’s-sidewindow.“OhGod,”thewomanwhispersasheapproaches.
Thestatetrooper’sbootsstopcrunchingbytheopenwindow.
“Isthereaproblem,Officer?”thewomanasks.
“Ma’am,doyouknowhowfastyouweregoing?”thestatetrooperasks.
“No,”thewomansays.
“Iclockedyouatfifty-two.Thisisarestrictedtwenty-fiveschoolzone.Iguessyoudidn’tseethesigns.”
“No.Ididn’tknowtherewasaschoolaroundhere.”
“It’sheavilysignposted,ma’am.”
“I’msorry,Ijustdidn’tseethem.”
“I’llhavetoseeyour…”thetrooperbeginsandpauses.Kylieknowshe’slookingather.She’sshiveringallover.
“Sir,isthatyourdaughterintheseatnexttoyou?”thetrooperasks.
“Yes,”themansays.
“Miss,canyoushowmeyourface,please?”
Kylieliftsherheadbutkeepshereyestightlyshut.She’sstilltrembling.Thestatetrooperhasseenthatsomethingisamiss.Ahalfsecondgoesbywhilethecop,Kylie,thewoman,andthemanalldecidewhattodonext.
Thewomangroansandthenthereisthesoundofasinglegunshot.
2
Thursday,8:35a.m.
It’ssupposedtobearoutinevisittotheoncologist.Asix-monthcheckuptomakesurethatallisOKandthatherbreastcancerisstillinremission.RachelhastoldKylienottoworrybecauseshefeelsgreatandeverythingisalmostcertainlyfine.
Secretly,ofcourse,sheknowsthatthingsmightnotbefine.HerappointmenthadoriginallybeenscheduledfortheTuesdaybeforeThanksgivingbutshe’dgottensomebloodworkdoneatthelablastweek,andwhenDr.Reedsawtheresults,she’daskedRacheltocomeinthismorning.Firstthing.Dr.Reedisadour,even-keeled,unflusteredwomanoriginallyfromNovaScotia,andsheisnotoneforpanickyoverreaction.
RacheltriesnottothinkaboutitasshedrivessouthonI-95.
What’sthepointofworrying?Shedoesn’tknowanything.MaybeDr.ReedisgoinghomeforThanksgivingandisschedulingallherappointmentsearly.
Racheldoesn’tfeelsick.Infact,shehasn’tfeltthisgoodinacoupleofyears.Forawhilethereshehadthoughtshewasbadluck’sfavoritechild.Butallthathaschanged.Thedivorceisbehindher.She’swritingherphilosophylecturesforthenewjobstartinginJanuary.Herpost-chemohairhasmostlygrownback,herstrengthhasreturned,andshe’sputtingonweight.Thepsychictollofthepastyearhasbeenpaid.She’sbacktotheorganized,in-controlwomanwhoworkedtwojobstoputMartythroughlawschoolandgetthemthehouseonPlumIsland.
She’sonlythirty-five.Shehasherwholelifeaheadofher.
Knockwood,shethinksandpatsagreenbitofthedashboardshehopesiswoodbutsuspectsisplastic.InthearcaneclutteroftheVolvo240’scargoareathere’sanoldoakwalkingstickbutthere’snopointriskinglifeandlimbreachingbackforthat.
Thephonesaysit’s8:36now.KyliewillbegettingoffthebusandstrollingacrosstheplaygroundwithStuart.ShetextsKyliethedumbjokeshe’sbeensavingupallmorning:Howdoyouthinktheunthinkable?
WhenKyliedoesn’trespondafteraminute,Rachelsendshertheanswer:Withanitheberg.
Stillnoresponse.
Doyougetit?Tryitwithalisp,Racheltexts.
Kylieisdeliberatelyignoringher.But,Rachelthinkswithagrin,I’llbetStuart’slaughing.Healwayslaughsatherdumbjokes.
It’s8:38nowandtrafficisbackingup.
Shedoesn’twanttobelate.She’sneverlate.MaybeifshegetsofftheinterstateandtakesRoute1?
CanadiansdoThanksgivingonadifferentday,sheremembers.Dr.Reedmustwanthertocomeinbecausethetestresultsdon’tlookgood.“No,”shesaysoutloudandshakesherhead.She’snotgoingtofallintothatoldspiralofnegativethinking.She’smovingforward.AndevenifshestillhasapassporttotheKingdomoftheSick,thatwon’tdefineher.That’sbehindher,alongwiththewaitressingandtheUberdrivingandfallingforMarty’slines.
She’susingherfullpotentialatlast.She’sateachernow.Shethinksaboutheropeninglecture.MaybeSchopenhauerisgoingtobetooheavyforeveryone.MaybesheshouldbegintheclasswiththatjokeaboutSartreandthewaitressattheDeux—
Herphonerings,startlingher.
UnknownCaller,itsays.
Sheanswerswiththespeakerphone:“Hello?”
“Twothingsyoumustremember,”avoicesaysthroughsomekindofspeech-distortionmachine.“Numberone:youarenotthefirstandyouwillcertainlynotbethelast.Numbertwo:remember,it’snotaboutthemoney—it’saboutTheChain.”
Thishastobesomesortofprank,onepartofherbrainissaying.Butother,deeper,moreancientstructuresinhercerebellumarebeginningtoreactwithwhatcanonlybedescribedaspureanimalterror.
“Ithinkyoumusthavethewrongnumber,”shesuggests.
Thevoicecontinuesobliviously:“Infiveminutes,Rachel,youwillbegettingthemostimportantphonecallofyourlife.Youaregoingtoneedtopullyourcarovertotheshoulder.You’regoingtoneedtohaveyourwitsaboutyou.Youwillbegettingdetailedinstructions.Makesureyourphoneisfullychargedandmakesurealsothatyouhaveapenandpapertowritedowntheseinstructions.Iamnotgoingtopretendthatthingsaregoingtobeeasyforyou.Thecomingdayswillbeverydifficult,butTheChainwillgetyouthrough.”
Rachelfeelsverycold.Hermouthtastesofoldpennies.Herheadislight.“I’mgoingtohavetocallthepoliceor—”
“Nopolice.Nolawenforcementofanykind.Youwilldojustfine,Rachel.Youwouldnothavebeenselectedifwethoughtyouwerethesortofpersonwhowouldgotopiecesonus.Whatisbeingaskedofyoumayseemimpossiblenowbutitisentirelywithinyourcapabilities.”
Asplinteroficerunsdownherspine.Aleakofthefutureintothepresent.Aterrifyingfuturethat,evidently,willmanifestitselfinjustafewminutes.
“Whoareyou?”sheasks.
“Praythatyouneverfindoutwhoweareandwhatwearecapableof.”
Thelinegoesdead.
ShechecksthecallerIDagainbutthenumberisstillnotthere.Thatvoice,though.Mechanicallydisguisedanddeliberate;assured,chilly,arrogant.Whatcanthispersonmeanaboutgettingthemostimportantphonecallofherlife?ShechecksherrearviewmirrorandmovestheVolvooutofthefastlaneandintothemiddlelanejustincaseanothercallreallyiscomingin.
Shepicksnervouslyatalineofthreadthat’scomingoffherredsweaterjustastheiPhoneringsagain.
AnotherUnknownCaller.
Shestabsatthegreenanswerkey.“Hello?”
“IsthisRachelO’Neill?”avoiceasks.Adifferentvoice.Awoman.Awomanwhosoundsveryupset.
RachelwantstosayNo;shewantstowardofftheimpendingdisasterbysayingthatactuallyshehasstartedusinghermaidennameagain—RachelKlein—butsheknowsthere’snopoint.Nothingshecansayordoisgoingtostopthiswomanfromtellingherthattheworsthashappened.
“Yes,”shesays.
“I’msosorry,Rachel,I’vegotsometerriblenewsforyou.Haveyougotthepenandpaperfortheinstructions?”
“What’shappened?”sheasks,reallyscarednow.
“I’vekidnappedyourdaughter.”
3
Thursday,8:42a.m.
Theskyisfalling.Theskyiscomingdown.Shecan’tbreathe.Shedoesn’twanttobreathe.Herbabygirl.No.Itisn’ttrue.NobodyhastakenKylie.Thiswomandoesn’tsoundlikeakidnapper.It’salie.“Kylie’sinschool,”Rachelsays.
“She’snot.I’vegother.I’vekidnappedher.”
“You’renot…it’sajoke.”
“I’mdeadlyserious.WegrabbedKylieatthebusstop.I’msendingyouapictureofher.”
Aphotoofagirlwearingablindfoldandsittinginthebackseatofacarcomesthroughasanattachment.SheiswearingthesameblacksweaterandtanwoolcoatthatKylieputonwhenshelefttoday.ShehasKylie’sfrecklypixienoseandbrownhairwithredhighlights.It’sher,allright.
Rachelfeelssick.Hervisionswims.Sheletsgoofthesteeringwheel.CarsbeginhonkingastheVolvodriftsoutofitslane.
Thewomanisstilltalking.“YouhavetoremaincalmandyouhavetolistencarefullytoeverythingIsay.YouhavetodoitexactlythewayI’vedoneit.Youmustwritedownalltherulesandyoucannotdeviatefromthem.Ifyoubreaktherulesorcallthepolice,youwillbeblamedandIwillbeblamed.Yourdaughterwillbekilledandmysonwillbekilled.SowritedowneverythingthatIamabouttotellyou.”
Rachelrubshereyes.There’saroaringinherheadthatsoundslikeagiantwaveabouttobreakontopofher.Abouttosmashhertosmithereens.Theworstthingintheworldisreally,actuallyhappening.Hasreallyhappened.
“IwanttospeaktoKylie,youbitch!”shescreamsandthengrabsthesteeringwheelandrightstheVolvo,avoidinganeighteen-wheelerbyinches.ShepullstheVolvoacrossthefinallaneoftrafficontotheshoulder.Sheskidstoahaltandkillstheengineasscoresofdrivershonkandyellobscenities.
“Kylie’sOKfornow.”
“I’mcallingthecops!”Rachelcries.
“No,you’renot.Ineedyoutocalmdown,Rachel.Iwouldn’thavepickedyouifIthoughtyouwerethetypewhowouldloseyourcool.I’veresearchedyou.IknowaboutHarvardandyourrecoveryfromcancer.Iknowaboutyournewjob.You’reanorganizedpersonandIknowyou’renotgoingtoscrewthisup.Becauseifyoudo,it’srealsimple:Kylieisgoingtodieandmyboyisgoingtodie.Now,getapieceofpaperandwritethisdown.”
Racheltakesadeepbreathandgrabsadatebookfromherpurse.“OK,”shesays
“You’reinTheChainnow,Rachel.Webothare.AndTheChainisgoingtoprotectitself.So,firstthingisnocops.Ifyouevertalktoacop,thepeoplewhorunTheChainwillknowandthey’lltellmetokillKylieandpickadifferenttarget,andIwill.Theydon’tcareaboutyouoryourfamily;alltheycareaboutisthesecurityofTheChain.Gotthat?”
“Nopolice,”Rachelsaysinadaze.
“Secondthingisburnerphones.Youneedtobuyanonymousburnerphonesthatyouusejustoncetomakeallyourcalls,likeI’mdoingnow.Gotit?”
“Yes.”
“Third,youaregoingtoneedtodownloadtheTorsearchengine,whichwilltakeyouintothedarkweb.It’strickybutyoucandoit.UseTortolookforInfinityProjects.Areyouwritingthisdown?”
“Yes.”
“InfinityProjectsisjustaplaceholdername.Itdoesn’tmeananything,butonthesite,you’llfindaBitcoinaccount.YoucanbuyBitcoinonTorinhalfadozenplacesbycreditcardorwiretransfer.ThetransfernumberforInfinityProjectsistwo-two-eight-nine-seven-four-four.Writethatdown.Oncemoneyhasbeenwiredthrough,it’suntraceable.WhatTheChainwantsfromyouistwenty-fivethousanddollars.”
“Twenty-fivethousanddollars?HowwillI—”
“Idon’tcare,Rachel.Loanshark,secondmortgage,doagoddamnmurderforhire.Itdoesn’tmatter.Justgetit.Youpaythemoneyandthat’spartone.Parttwoisharder.”
“What’sparttwo?”Rachelasks,alarmed.
“I’msupposedtotellyouthatyouarenotthefirstandyouarenotthelast.YouareinTheChainandthisisaprocessthatgoesbackalongtime.Ikidnappedyourdaughtersothatmyboywillbereleased.He’sbeenkidnappedandisbeingheldbyamanandwomanIdon’tknow.Youmustselectatargetandkidnaponeofthatperson’slovedonessoTheChainwillgoon.”
“What!Areyoucra—”
“Youhavetolisten.Thisisimportant.YouaregoingtokidnapsomeonetoreplaceyourdaughteronTheChain.”
“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“Youhavetoselectatargetandholdoneofthatperson’slovedonesuntilthetargetpaystheransomandkidnapssomeoneinturn.Youaregoingtohavetomakethisexactphonecalltowhoeveryouselect.WhatI’mdoingtoyouiswhatyouaregoingtodotoyourtarget.Assoonasyoucarryoutyourkidnappingandpaythemoney,mysonwillbereleased.Assoonasyourtargetkidnapssomeoneandpaystheransom,yourdaughterwillbereleased.It’sthatsimple.That’showTheChainworksandgoesonforever.”
“What?WhodoIpick?”Rachelasks,utterlyhorrified.
“Someonewhowillnotbreaktherules.Nocops,politicians,orjournalists—thosearedeal-breakers.SomeonewhowillcommitakidnappingandpaythemoneyandkeeptheirmouthshutandkeepTheChaingoing.”
“HowdoyouknowI’lldoallthat?”
“Ifyoudon’t,I’llkillKylieandstartagainwithsomeoneelse.IfIscrewuptheywillkillmysonandthenme.Everything’soffthecliffalreadyforus.Letmebeveryclear,Rachel:IwillmurderKylie.IknownowthatIamcapableofdoingit.”
“Pleasedon’tdothis.Lethergo,please,I’mbeggingyou.Asonemothertoanother,please.She’sawonderfulchild.She’sallI’vegotinthisworld.Ilovehersomuch.”
“I’mcountingonthat.DoyouunderstandwhatI’vetoldyousofar?”
“Yes.”
“Goodbye,Rachel.”
“No!Wait!”Rachelcriesbutthewomanhasalreadyhungup.
4
Thursday,8:56a.m.
Rachelbeginstoshake.Shefeelssick,nauseated,untethered.Likeonthetreatmentdayswhensheallowedthemtopoisonherandburnherinthehopethatitwouldmakeherbetter.
Thetrafficdrumsceaselesslytoherleftandshesitstherefrozenlikesomelong-deadexplorercrashedonanalienworld.Forty-fivesecondshavegonebysincethewomanhungup.Itfeelslikeforty-fiveyears.
Thephonerings,startlingher.“Hello?”
“Rachel?”
“Yes.”
“ThisisDr.Reed.Wewereexpectingyouatnine,butyouhaven’tsignedinyetdownstairs.”
“I’mrunninglate.Traffic,”shesays.
“That’sOK.It’salwaysahorrorshowatthistime.Whencanweexpectyou?”
“What?Oh…I’mnotcomingintoday.Ican’t.”
“Really?Oh,dear,well—wouldtomorrowsuityoubetter?”
“No.Notthisweek.”
“Rachel,Ineedyoutocomeintodiscussyourbloodwork.”
“Ihavetogo,”Rachelsays.
“Look,Idon’tliketotalkaboutthesethingsoverthephonebutwhatwe’reseeingwithyourmostrecenttestisveryhighlevelsofCA15-3.Wereallyneedtotalk—”
“Ican’tcomein.Goodbye,Dr.Reed,”Rachelsaysandhangsupthephoneasflashinglightsappearintherearviewmirror.Abig,dark-hairedMassachusettsstatetroopergetsoutofhisvehicleandapproachestheVolvo240.
Shesitsthere,utterlyadrift,tearsdryingonherface.
Thetroopertapsherwindowandafteramoment’shesitation,sherollsitdown.“Ma’am,”hebeginsandthenseesthatshehasbeencrying.“Um,ma’am,isthereaproblemwithyourvehicle?”
“No.I’msorry.”
“Well,ma’am,thisshoulderisforemergencyvehiclesonly.”
Tellhim,shethinks.Tellhimeverything.No,Ican’t,they’llkillher,theywill.Thatwomanwilldoit.“IknowIshouldn’tbeparkedhere.Iwasonthephonetomyoncologist.It—itlookslikemycancerhascomeback.”
Thetroopergetsit.Henodsslowly.“Ma’am,doyouthinkyou’recapableofcontinuingyourjourneyatthisjuncture?”
“Yes.”
“I’mnotgoingtowriteyouamovingviolation,butIwouldaskyoutoproceedwithyourjourney,please,ma’am.I’llhalttrafficuntilyougetintothelane.”
“Thankyou,Officer.”
SheturnsthekeyintheignitionandtheoldVolvogrumblesbacktolife.Thetrooperstopsthevehiclesintheslowlaneandshepullsoutwithoutanydifficulty.Shedrivesforonemileuntilshehitsthenextexitandthengetsoffatthesliproad.Southisthehospitalwheretheycanmaybefixherbutshedoesn’tcareaboutthatnow.That’sutterlyirrelevant.GettingKyliebackisthesunandthestarsandtheentireuniverse.
ShetakesI-95northbound,pushingtheVolvoharderthanithaseverbeenpushedinitslife.
Intotheslowlane,intothemediumlane,intothefastlane.
Sixtymilesanhour,sixty-fivemilesanhour,seventy,seventy-five,seventy-eight,eighty.
TheengineisscreamingbutallRachelcanthinkisGo,go,go.
Herbusinessnowisnorth.Getabankloan.Gettheburnerphones.GetagunandeverythingelsesheneedstogetKylieback.
5
Thursday,9:01a.m.
Ithadallhappenedsofast.Agunshotandthentheyhaddrivenoff.Drivenforhowlong?Kyliehadlosttrack.Maybesevenoreightminutesbeforetheyhadturnedontoasmallerroad,gonedownalongdriveway,andstopped.Thewomanhadtakenapictureofherandgottenouttomakeaphonecall.Probablytohermomordad.
Kylie’sinthebackseatofthecarwiththeman.Heisbreathinghard,swearingunderhisbreath,andmakingstrangeanimal-likewhimperingnoises.
Shootingthepolicemanwasclearlynotpartoftheplanandheisn’thandlingitwell.
Kyliehearsthewomancomebacktothecar.
“OK,it’sdone.Sheunderstandseverythingandknowswhatshehastodo,”thewomansays.“TakethisonedowntothebasementandI’llhidethecar.”
“OK,”themanrepliesmeekly.“Youhavetogetout,Kylie.I’llopenthedoorforyou.”
“Wherearewegoing?”Kylieasks.
“We’vesetupalittleroomforyou.Don’tbeworried,”themansays.“You’vedoneverywellsofar.”
Shefeelsthemanreachoverherandunclickherseatbelt.Hisbreathisacridandrepulsive.Thedooropensnexttoher.
“Keepyourblindfoldon;Ihaveagunpointedatyou,”thewomansays.
Kylienods.
“Well,whatareyouwaitingfor?Move!”thewomansaysinashrill,hystericalvoice.
Kylieswingsherlegsoutofthecarandstartstogetup.
“Watchyourhead,please,”themanmutters.
Shestandsslowly,carefully.Shelistensforhighwaytrafficoranyothernoise,butshedoesn’thearanything.Nocars,nobirds,nofamiliarAtlanticbreakers.Theyaresomewherewellinland.
“Thisway,”themansays.“I’mgoingtotakeyourarmandleadyoudownstairs.Don’ttryanything.There’snowhereyoucangoandwe’rebothpreparedtoshootyou,OK?”
Shenods.
“Answerhim,”thewomaninsists.
“Iwon’ttryanything,”shesays.
Shehearsaboltbeingdraggedbackandadoorbeingopened.
“Careful,thesestairsareoldandsortofsteep,”themansays.
Kyliewalksslowlydownthewoodenstairswhilethemanholdsherbytheelbow.Whenshegetstothebottomofthesteps,shecanfeelthatshe’sstandingonconcrete.Herheartsinks.Ifithadbeenacrawlspaceliketheonebeneathherhouse,shewouldhavehadjustdirtandsandunderfoot.Youcoulddigyourwaythroughdirtandsand.Youcouldn’tdigyourwaythroughconcrete.
“Here,”themansaysandleadsheracrosstheroom.It’sabasement,obviously.Thebasementofahousedeepinthecountry,farfromanyone.
Kyliethinksabouthermotherandfeelsanothersobwellingupinherthroat.Herpoormom!She’ssupposedtobestartinganewjobsoon.She’sjustbeginningtoturnherlifearoundafterthecancerandthedivorce.Itisn’tfair.
“Sithere,”themansays.“Sitallthewaydown.It’samattressonthefloor.”
Kyliesitsonthemattress,whichfeelslikeit’scoveredwithasheetandasleepingbag.
Shehearstheclickofthewomantakingaphoto.“OK,I’mgoingtothehousetosendherthisandcheckWickr.IhopetoGodthey’renotangrywithus,”thewomansays.
“Don’ttellthemanythingwentwrong.Tellthemeverythingwentaccordingtoplan,”themansays.
“Iknow!”shesnaps.
“It’sgoingtobeOK,”themansaysunconvincingly.
Kyliehearsthewomanrunupthewoodenstepsandclosethebasementdoor.She’salonewiththemannowandthisscaresher.Hecoulddoanything.
“It’sOK,”hesays.“Youcantakeyourblindfoldoffnow.”
“Idon’twanttoseeyourface,”Kyliereplies.
“It’sfine,I’vegottheskimaskonagain.”
Sheremovestheblindfold.He’sstandingnearher,stillholdingthegun.Hehastakenhiscoatoff.He’swearingjeans,ablacksweater,andloaferscakedwithclayandmud.Aheavymaninhisfortiesorfifties.
Thebasementisrectangular,roughlytwentyfeetbythirtyfeet.Therearetwosmallsquarewindowschokedwithleavesononeside.Aconcretefloor,amattress,andanelectriclampnexttothemattress.They’vegivenherasleepingbag,abucket,toiletpaper,acardboardbox,andtwolargebottlesofwater.Therestofthebasementisemptybutforanantiquecast-ironstoveagainstoneofthewallsandaboilerinthefarcorner.
“You’regoingtobestayinghereforthenextfewdays.Untilyourmotherpaystheransomanddoestheotherstuff.We’regoingtotrytomakeyouascomfortableaspossible.Youmustbeterrified.Ican’timagine…”hesaysandbeginstochokeup.“We’renotusedtothis,Kylie.We’renotpeoplelikethis.Allofthishasbeenforcedonus.Youhavetounderstandthat.”
“Whyhaveyoutakenme?”
“Yourmotherwillexplaineverythingwhenyougetbacktoher.Mywifedoesn’twantmetotalktoyouaboutit.”
“Youseemnicerthanher.Isthereanywayyoucouldpossiblylet—”
“No.We’ll—wow—killyouifyoutrytoescape.Imeanthat.Youknowwhatwe’rec—capableof.Youwerethere.Youheard.Thatpoorman…ohmyGod.Putthisonyourleftwrist,”hesays,handingherahandcuff.“Tightenoughsoyoucan’tescape,notsotightsothatitchafesyou…that’sit.Alittlebittighter.Letmesee.”
Hetakesherwristandexaminesitandratchetsthehandcufftighter.Thenhetakestheothercuff,attachesittoaheavymetalchain,andattachesthattotheironstovewithapadlock.
“You’vegotaboutninefeetofchain,soyoucanmovearoundabit.Doyouseethat,overtherebythestairs?That’sacamera.We’llbekeepinganeyeonyouevenwhenwe’renotdownhere.Thefluorescentlightwillalwaysbeonsowecanseewhatyou’redoing.Sodon’ttryanything,OK?”
“OK.”
“You’vegotasleepingbagandapillow.Inthatboxtherearetoiletriesandmoretoiletpaperandgrahamcrackersandbooks.DoyouliketheHarryPotterbooks?”
“Yes.”
“Thewholeseriesisinthere.Andsomeoldstuff.Goodstuffforgirlsyourage.IknowwhatI’mtalkingabout.I’manen…goodstuff,”hesays.
“I’manEnglishteacher”?Wasthatwhathewasgoingtosay?Kyliewonders.“Thankyou,”shesays.Bepolite,Kylie,shetellsherself.Bethegood,scared,frightenedgirlwhowon’tcausethemanytrouble.
Themansquatsdownnexttoher,stillkeepingthegunpointedather.
“We’reinthewoodshere.Attheendofourowndirtroad.Ifyoustartscreaming,noonewillhearyou.We’reonabiglotandthewoodsareallaround.Butifyoudostartyelling,I’llseeandhearyouonthecameraandIwon’tbeabletotakeanychances.I’llhavetocomedownandgagyou.Andsoyoucan’tremovethegag,we’llhavetocuffyourhandsbehindyourback.Doyouunderstand?”
Kylienods.
“Now,turnoutyourpocketsandgivemeyourshoes.”
Sheturnsoutherpockets.Sheonlyhasmoneyinthemanyway.Nopenknifeorphone.Thephone’sbackthereonthedirtroadonPlumIsland.
Themanstandsandswaysalittle.“SweetJesus,”hesaystohimselfandswallowshard.Hegoesupthestairsshakinghishead,apparentlyindisbeliefandamazementatwhathehaswrought.
Whenthebasementdoorcloses,Kylieleansbackonthemattressandexhales.
Shestartstocryagain.Shecriesherselfdryandthensitsupandlooksatthetwobottlesofwater.Wouldtheypoisonher?Thesealsonthewaterareintactandit’sPolandSpring.Shedrinksgreedilyandthenstopsherself.
Whatifhedoesn’tcomeback?Whatifshehastomakethiswaterlastforseveraldaysorweeks?
Shelooksinthebigcardboardbox.Twoboxesofgrahamcrackers,aSnickersbar,andacanofPringles.Toothbrush,toothpaste,toiletpaper,wipes,andaboutfifteenbooks.There’salsoadrawingpad,twopencils,andplayingcards.Withherbacktothecamerashetriestousethepenciltopickthelockonthehandcuff,butaftertensecondsshegivesup.You’dneedapapercliporsomething.Shelooksthroughthebooks.HarryPotter,J.D.Salinger,HarperLee,HermanMelville,JaneAusten.Yeah,probablyanEnglishteacher.
Shetakesanothersipofwaterandunspoolssomeofthetoiletpaperanddriesthetearsfromherface.
Sheliesdownonthemattress.It’scold.Shegetsintothesleepingbagandhunkersdownunderitwherethecameracan’tseeher.
Shefeelssaferhere.
Iftheycan’tseeher,that’ssomething.That’saDaffyDucktrick.IfIcan’tseeyou,youdon’texist.
Weretheytellingthetruthaboutnotwantingtoharmher?Youbelievedpeopleuntiltheyshowedyouhowbadtheyreallywere.
Butthey’dalreadydonethat,hadn’tthey?
Thatpoliceman.Hewasprobablydeadordying.OhGod.
Rememberingthatgunshot,shewantstoscreamnow.Toscreamandgetsomeonetocomeandhelpher.
Helpme,helpme,helpme!Shemouthsbutdoesn’tsaythewords.
OhmyGod,Kylie,howcouldthishavehappened?Thethingthatyouwerewarnedabout:Don’tgetintoastranger’scar.Nevergetintoastranger’scar.Girlsgomissingallthetimeandwhentheygomissing,theyalmostnevercomeback.
Butsometimestheydidcomeback.Thereweremanywhodisappearedforeverbutnotallthelostgirlsstayedlost.Sometimestheycamehomeagain.
ElizabethSmart—thatwastheMormongirl’sname.Inthatinterview,shehadbeendignifiedandcalm.Shehadsaidthattherewasalwayshopeinthesesituations.Herfaithhadalwaysgivenherhope.
ButKyliedoesn’thaveanyfaith,whichisobviouslyherstupidparents’fault
Soclaustrophobicinhere.
Shepullsthesleepingbagdownandtakesafewpanickybreathsandlooksaroundtheroomagain.
Aretheyreallywatchingher?
Certainlyatfirsttheywillbe.Butatthreeinthemorning?Maybeshecanmovethatstove.Maybethere’sanoldnailshecanusetopickthelock.She’llwait.She’llkeepcoolandwait.Shelooksintheboxandpullsoutthepadandpaper.
Helpme,I’maprisonerinthisbasement,shewrites,butthere’snoonetogivethenoteto.
Sheripsoutthepageandcrumplesitup.
Shestartsdrawinginstead.ShedrawstheceilingofthetombofSenenmutfromherEgyptbook.Thisbeginstocalmher.Shedrawsthemoonandstars.TheEgyptiansthoughttheafterlifewaslocatedinthestars.Butthereisnoafterlife,isthere?Grandmabelievesintheafterlifebutnobodyelsedoes.Itdoesn’tmakeanysense,doesit?Iftheykillyou,you’rejustdeadandthat’sthat.Andmaybeahundredyearsfromnow,theyfindyourbodyinthewoodsandnobodyevenrememberswhoyouwereorthatyou’dgonemissing.
You’reerasedfromhistorylikeashakenEtchASketch.
“Mommy,”shewhispers.“Helpme.Pleasehelpme.Mommy!”
Butsheknowsthatthere’snohelpcoming.
6
Thursday,9:16a.m.
WhenRachelgetsbacktoherhouseonPlumIslandshewalksintothekitchenandfallstothefloor.Itisn’taswoon.She’snotfainting.Shejustcannolongerremainvertical.Sheliesthereonthelinoleumlikeadisheveledquestionmark.Herpulseisracing,herthroatconstricting.Shefeelslikeshe’shavingaheartattack.
Butshecan’thaveaheartattack.Shehastosaveherdaughter.
Shesitsupandtriestobreatheandthink.
They’dsaiddon’tcallthepolice.Theyareprobablyafraidofthepolice.
Thepolicewillknowwhattodo.Won’tthey?
Shereachesforthephonebutstopsherself.No.Shedarenotriskit.
Don’tcallthecops.Nevercallthecops.Iftheyfindoutshehascalledthecops,they’llkillKylieimmediately.Therewassomethingaboutthatwoman’svoice.Thedesperationinit.Thedetermination.She’lldoitandshe’llmoveontoanothervictim.ThewholethingaboutTheChainisincredibleandcrazyandyet…thatwoman’svoice…ithadtheringoftruth.ThewomanhadclearlybeenterrifiedofTheChainanditspowerandshebelievedinit.
AndIbelievetoo,Rachelthinks.
Butshedoesn’thavetobealone.Sheneedshelp.
Marty.He’llknowwhattodo.
Shespeed-dialsMarty’snumberbutitgoesstraighttovoicemail.Shetriesagainbutagaingetsvoicemail.ShelooksdownherlistofcontactsandcallshisnewhouseinBrookline.
“Hellooo,”Tammyanswersinthatsingsongyvoiceofhers.
“Tammy?”Rachelasks.
“Yeah,who’sthis?”
“ThisisRachel.I’vebeentryingtocontactMarty.”
“He’soutoftown.”
“Oh?Whereishe?”
“He’sin,um,oh,what’sthatplace…”
“Work?”
“No.Youknow…theplacewheretheyplaygolf.”
“Scotland?”
“No!Whereeverybodygoes.Hewassoexcited.”
“Golfing,whendidhestart…nevermind.Look,Tammy,I’mtryingtoreachhimandit’sanemergencyandIcan’tgetthroughonhisphone.”
“He’sdowntherewiththefirm.They’reonaretreatsotheyhadtohandintheirphones.”
“Butwhereisit,Tammy?Please,think.”
“Augusta!He’sinAugusta.IthinkIhaveacontactnumbersomewhereifyouneedit.”
“Ineedit.”
“Yeah,holdon,lemmesee,hereitis,OK.”Shereadsoutanumber.
“Thanks,Tammy.Ibettercallhim.”
“Wait,what’stheemergency?”
“Oh,it’snothing,aproblemwiththeroof,it’sleaking,that’sall.Nobigdeal.Thankyou,”shesaysandhangsup.
ShedialsthenumberTammygaveher.
“GleneagleAugustaHotel,”thereceptionistsays.
“I’dliketospeaktoMartyO’Neill,please.I’mhis,er,wife,andI’veforgottenwhatroomhe’sin.”
“Um,letmesee…seventy-four.I’llputyouthrough.”
SheputsRachelthroughtotheroom,butheisn’tthere.ShecallsthefrontdeskagainandasksthereceptionisttotellMartytocallherassoonashegetsbackin.
Shehangsupandsitsdownontheflooragain.
She’sdazed,speechless,horrified.
Givenalltheevilpeopleintheworldwithunbalancedkarmiccheckbooks,whyhasthishappenedtoher,especiallyaftereverythingshe’sbeenthroughthepastcoupleofyears?Itisn’tfair.AndpoorKylie’sjustalittlegirl,she—
Thephoneringsnexttoher.ShepicksitupandlooksattheID:UnknownCalleragain.
Ohno.
“Callingyourex-husband?”thescary,distortedvoicesays.“Isthatreallywhatyouwanttodonow?Canyoutrusthim?Canyoutrusthimwithyourlifeandthelifeofyourchild?You’regoingtoneedtobecauseifhesaysanythingtoanybody,Kylie’sdead,andIthinkwe’llhavetokillyoutoo.TheChainalwaysprotectsitself.Maybehaveathinkaboutthatbeforeyournextphonecall.”
“I’msorry.I…Ididn’tgetthroughtohim.Ileftamessage.It’sjust…Idon’tknowifIcandothisbymyself,I—”
“Wemightallowyoutogethelplater.Wewillsendyouawaytocontactusandyoucanaskusforpermission.Butfornow,ifyouknowwhat’sgoodforyou,don’ttalktoanyone.Justgetthemoneyandstartthinkingaboutatarget.Youcandothis,Rachel.Youdidwellgettingridofthatcopbackthereonthehighway.Yes,that’sright,wesaw.Andwe’llbewatchingyoucloselyuntilthisisallover.Nowgetonwithit,”thevoicesays.
“Ican’t,”Rachelprotestsmeekly.
Thevoicesighs.“Wedon’tselectpeoplewhorequirecontinuouscoaching.That’swaytooexhaustingforus.Wepickself-starters.Bootstrappers.That’syou,Rachel.Now,getupoffthegoddamnfloorandgetmoving!”
Thelinegoesdead.
Rachellooksatthephoneinhorror.Theyarewatchingher.Theyknowwhoshe’scallingandeverythingshe’sdoing.
Shepushesthephoneaway,getstoherfeet,andstaggerstothebathroomlikeshe’swalkingfromacaraccident.
Sherunsthefaucetandsplasheswateronherface.There’snomirrorinhereoranywhereinthehouseexceptforKylie’sroom.She’dgottenridofallthemirrorsbecauseofthevisualhorrorofthewholehair-falling-outroutine.Ofcoursenooneinherfamilyhadeverallowedhertothinkthatshemightdie.Hermother,thenurse,hadexplainedrightfromtheget-gothatitwasatreatablestage2Abreastcancerthatwouldrespondwelltoanaggressiveprecisionsurgicalinterventionfollowedbyradiationandchemotherapy.Butinthosefirstfewweeks,lookinginthebathroommirror,shesawherselfdiminishing,hollowingout,wastingaway.
Gettingridofallthemirrorshadbeenanimportantstepinherrecovery.Shedidn’thavetoseeherselfbecometheterrible,paleskeletalspiderofthedarkdaysofthechemo.Herrecoverywasn’texactlyamiracle—thestage2Afive-yearsurvivalratewas90percent—butstill,youcouldalwaysbeoneofthe10percent,couldn’tyou?
Sheturnsthefaucetoff.
Goodthingthere’snogoddamnmirror,becauseMirrorRachelwouldbelookingbackatherwithdead,accusingeyes.Lettingathirteen-year-oldgirlwaitbyherselfatabusstop?YouthinkthiswouldhavehappenedifKyliewerewithMarty?
No.Itwouldn’thave.Notonhiswatch.Onyours,Rachel.Because,let’sfaceit,you’realoser.They’recompletelywrongaboutyou.Tragicallymistaken.Thirty-fiveandyou’restartingyourfirstrealjob?Whathaveyoubeendoingallthistime?Allthatpotentialwasted.ThePeaceCorps?NobodyjoinsthePeaceCorps.ThoseyearsdriftingwithMartyafterGuatemala.Youworkingafterhefinallydecidedhewantedtogotolawschool?
You’vebeenfakingit.Butyou’rejustaloserandnowyourpoordaughterhasgottensuckedintoyourloserweb.
Rachelpointsafingerattheplacewherethemirrorusedtobe.Youdumbbitch.Iwishyouhaddied.Iwishyouhadbeenoneofthe10percentwho’ddied!
Shecloseshereyes,breathes,countsdownfromten,opensthemagain.Sherunstothebedroomandchangesintotheblackskirtandwhiteblousesheboughtforteaching.Sheputsonherexpensive-lookingleatherjacket,findsarespectablepairofheels,runsahandthroughherhair,andgrabshershoulderbag.Shegathersherfinancialdocuments,herlaptop,andtheemploymentcontractfromNewburyportCommunityCollege.ShegetsMarty’sstashofbar-examcigarettesandthesealedbagoffloodmoney.Sherunstothekitchen,slipsintheheels,almostsmashesherfaceintotherangehood,rightsherself,grabsherphone,andtearsouttothecar.
7
Thursday,9:26a.m.
TheFirstNationalBankonStateStreetindowntownNewburyportopensat9:30a.m.RachelpacesthesidewalknearthebankentranceandpuffsonherMarlboro.
StateStreetisdesertedexceptforaverypale,nervous,oldermanwearingaheavycoatandaRedSoxcapwhoiswalkingtowardher.
Theireyesmeetashestopsinfrontofher.
“AreyouRachelO’Neill?”heasks.
“Yes,”shereplies.
Themanswallowshardandpullshiscaplower.“I’msupposedtotellyouthatI’vebeenoffTheChainforayearnow.I’msupposedtotellyouthatbecauseIdidasIwastold,myfamilyissafe.I’msupposedtotellyouthattherearehundredsofpeoplelikemewhocanberecruitedtobringyouamessageifTheChainthinksyouoranyoneinyourfamilyneedsamessage.”
“Igetit.”
“You’re—you’renotpregnant,areyou?”themanaskshesitantly,seeminglygoingoffscriptforamoment.
“No,”Rachelreplies.
“Thenthisisyourmessage,”hesaysand,withoutwarning,punchesherinthestomach.
TheairisknockedoutofherandRachelcrumplestotheground.Heissurprisinglystrong,andthepainisterrible.Ittakeshertensecondstogetherbreathback.Shelooksupatthemaninincomprehensionandfear.
“I’msupposedtotellyouthatifyouneedfurtherproofofourreach,youshouldGoogletheWilliamsfamilyofDover,NewHampshire.Youwon’tseemeagainbuttherearemanyothersouttherelikeme.Donotattempttofollowme,”themansaysandwithtearsofshamerunningdownhischeeks,heturnsandwalksquicklybackdownthestreet.
Justthenthebankdooropensandthesecurityguardseeshersprawledontheground.Helooksatthemanhurryingawayfromher;hisfistsclenchandit’sclearthathesensessomethinghasjusthappened.
“CanIhelpyou,ma’am?”heasks.
Rachelcoughsandpullsherselftogether.“I’mfine,Iguess.I,uh,tookaspill.”
Thesecurityguardoffersherhishandandhelpshertoherfeet.
“Thankyou,”shesaysandwincesinpain.
“Areyousureyou’reOK,ma’am?”heasks.
“Yes,fine!”
Thesecurityguardlooksatheroddlyforamomentandagainatthemanhurryingaway.Shecantellthathe’swonderingifshe’ssomekindofshillinabank-robberyattempt.Hishanddriftstowardhisgun.
“Thankyousomuch,”shesays.Shelowershervoicetoawhisper.“I’mnotusedtoheels.Somuchformakingagoodimpressionatthebank!”
Theguardrelaxes.“Noonesawyoubutme,”hesays.“Idon’tknowhowyouwalkinthosethings.”
“ThisisajokeItellmydaughter:‘Whatdoyoucalladinosaurinhighheels?’”
“What?”
“‘My-feet-are-saurus.’Sheneverlaughs.Sheneverlaughsatmydumbjokes.”
Theguardsmiles.“Well,Ithinkit’sfunny.”
“Thankyouagain,”Rachelsays.Shefixesherhair,goesinsidethebank,andaskstoseeColinTemple,themanager.
Temple’sanolderguywhousedtoliveoutontheislandbeforemovingintotown.HeandRachelhadattendedeachother’sbarbecues,andMartyhadgonefishingwithhimonhisboat.Colinhadn’tscrewedheroverthecoupleoftimesshehadmissedmortgagepaymentssincethedivorce.
“RachelO’Neill,asIliveandbreathe,”hesayswithagrin.“Oh,Rachel,whydobirdssuddenlyappeareverytimethatyou’renear?”
Becausethey’reactuallycarrioncrowsandI’moneofthegoddamnundead,shethinksbutdoesn’tsay.“Goodmorning,Colin,howareyou?”
“I’mfine.WhatcanIdoforyou,Rachel?”
Sheswallowsthepainofthegutpunchandforcesahalfsmileontoherlips.“I’minabitoftrouble,andIwonderifwecanhaveatalk.”
Theyrepairtothemanager’soffice,whichisdecoratedwithyachtpicturesandtinyintricatemodelboatsthatColinhasmadehimself.Thereareseveralphotosofasnot-nosedKingCharlesspanielthatshecan’tforthelifeofherrememberthenameof.Colinleavesthedooralittlebitajarandsitsbehindhisdesk.Rachelsitsoppositeandtriestoputapleasantexpressiononherface.
“WhatcanIdotohelp?”Colinasks,stillprettycheerybutwithsuspicioncreepingintohiseyes.
“Well,it’sthehouse,Colin.ThatroofabovethekitchenisleakingandIhadacontractorinyesterdayandhesaidthewholethingwillhavetobereplacedbeforeitsnowsoritallmightcomedown.”
“Really?ItlookedOKlasttimeIwasoutthere.”
“Iknow.Butit’stheoriginalroof.Fromthe1930s.Anditleakseverywinter.Andnowit’sjustadanger.Tous,Imean.TomeandKylie.Andalso,youknow,tothehouse.Youguyshavethemortgageandifthehousewasdestroyed,yourassetwouldn’tbeworthanything,”shesaysandevenmanagesalittlefakelaugh.
“Howmuchdoesyourcontractorsayhe’llneed?”
Rachelhadthoughtaboutaskingforthefulltwenty-fivethousandbutthatseemsridiculousforaroofjob.Shehasnothinginhersavingsaccount,butshecanchargetengrandonherVisa.She’llworryaboutpayingoffthebillwhenKylieishomesafe.
“Fifteenthousand.Butit’sfine,Colin,I’mgoodforit.I’mstartinganewjobinJanuary,”shesays.
“Oh?”
“I’vebeenhiredtoteachsomeclassesatNewburyportCommunityCollege.IntroductiontoModernPhilosophy.Existentialism,Schopenhauer,Wittgenstein,allthatgoodstuff.”
“Finallyusingthatdegree,eh?”
“Yeah.Look,I’vebroughttheemploymentcontractandthefullsalarydetails.It’snotmuchbutit’sasteadypaycheckandit’smorethanIwasgettingasanUberdriver.Thingsarereallygoinggreatforusnow,Colin—just,youknow,apartfromtheroof,”shesaysasshehandsoverthedocuments.
Colinexaminesthepaperworkandthenlooksupandexaminesher.Heknowssomethingiswrong.Sheprobablylooksawful.Wizened,thin,worried.Likesomeonewhosebreastcancerhasreturnedorwhoisinthefinalstagesofamethamphetaminedeathspiral.
Hiseyesnarrow.Hismoodchanges.Heshakeshishead.“I’mafraidwecan’tdeferanymorepaymentsandwecan’taddanythingtotheoriginalloan.Iwouldn’tbeallowedtodothat.Ihaveverylittlediscretioninthesematters.”
“Asecondmortgage,then,”shesays.
Heshakeshisheadagain.“I’msorry,Rachel,butyourhouseisn’tasafeenoughassetforthat.Tobebrutallyhonest,it’sjustaglorifiedbeachshack,isn’tit?Andyou’renotevenreallyonthebeach.”
“We’reonthetidalbasin.It’swaterfrontproperty,Colin.”
“I’mverysorry.IknowyouandMartytalkedforyearsaboutremodelingit,butyouneverdid,didyou?It’snotproperlywinterized,there’snocentralair.”
“Thelanditself,then.Propertypriceshavebeengoinguparoundhere.”
“You’reontheunfashionablewesternsideofPlumIsland,nottheAtlanticside.Youfacethemarshesandyou’reinthefloodzone.I’msorry,Rachel,there’snothingIcandoforyou.”
“But,but…Ihavethisnewjob.”
“Thisemploymentcontractatthecommunitycollegeisonlyforonesemester.You’reabadriskforthebank—youcanseethat,can’tyou?”
“YouknowI’mgoodforit,”sheinsists.“Youknowme,Colin.I’malmostalwaysontime.Ipaymydebts.Iworkhard.”
“Yes.Butthat’snottheissue.”
“AndwhataboutMarty?He’sajuniorpartnernow.I’vebeenlettinghimslideonthechild-supportpaymentsbecauseofTammy’sbankruptcy,but—”
“Tammy?”
“Hisnewgirlfriend.”
“Shewentbankrupt?”
Crap,Rachelthinks.Sheknowsthisinformationwillnothelphercase,soshetriestorushthroughit.
“Oh,it’snothing.ShehadachocolatestoreinHarvardSquare,anditwentunder.She’snotabusinesswoman.Ithinkshe’sonlyabouttwenty-fiveor—”
“HowdoyoulosemoneysellingchocolateinthemunchiescapitalofNewEngland?”
“Idon’tknow.Look,Colin.We’reoldfriends.AndI…Ineedthis.Ineeditassoonaspossible.It’sanemergency.”
Colinleansbackinhischair.
Rachelseeshimturningallthisover.He’sprobablylearnedhowtospotaliar…
“I’msorry,Rachel,Ireallyam.Ifyou’relookingforacontractor,IcanrecommendAbeFoley.He’shonestandhedoesagoodjobfast.That’sallIcando.”
Rachelnods.“Thankyou,”shesaysmeeklyand,thoroughlydefeated,exitshisoffice.
8
Thursday,9:38a.m.
Hmmm,thisonefeelsdifferent.
There’snoevidence,ofcourse,thatitisanydifferent.Itshouldn’tbeanydifferent.Theyalwayssaythesamethings,actthesameway,andthenfallrightintoline.Humanbeingsareboringlypredictable.That’swhytheactuarialtablesworksowell.
Andit’sjustafeeling—that’sall.Andshecanshakethisfeelingandreplaceitwithanother.Butshedoesn’twanttodothattoday.Shewantstositwiththebadfeelingandexperienceitandhaveitexplaintoherwhyit’shere.Ifthefeelingmeansanythingatall,it’salmostcertainlyaboutthecurrentpersononTheChain.
Perhapsitwouldbewisetotakealookatthepresentstateofplay.Sheopensuptheencryptedfileonhercomputerandexaminesthecurrentprotagonists.Everythinglooksfine.LinknegativetwoisHankCallaghan,adentistandSunday-schoolteacherfromNashuawhohasdoneeverythingrequestedofhim.LinknegativeoneisHeatherPorter,acollegeadministratoralsofromNewHampshirewhohasdoneallshehasbeenaskedtodo.LinkzeroisRachelO’Neillor,asshecallsherselfnow,RachelKlein.AformerwaitressandUberdriverwhowillsoonbeteachingatacommunitycollege.
IsRachelthebadapple?
Itdoesn’treallymatterifsheis.AsOllyisalwayssaying,TheChainislargelyaself-regulatingmechanismthatrepairsitsownbrokenDNAwithonlyalittlenudgingfromtheoutside.
“Don’tworry.Itwillallsortitselfout,”herstepmotherusedtosay.Andshewasright.Itgenerallydidallsortitselfout.Shewassortedouttoointheend,ofcourse.
No,Rachelwon’tbeanytrouble.Noneofthemwillbeorcouldbe.Rachelwillfallintolinelikealltheothers;eitherthat,orsheandherdaughterwilldie.Anddiehorribly,asanexamplefortheothers.
9
Thursday,9:42a.m.
Onthestreetoutsidethebank,Rachelfightsbacktearsandwavesofpanic.Whatisshegoingtodo?Shecan’tdoanything.Shehasfailedattheverystart.OhmyGod,mypoorlittleKylie.
Shelooksattheclockonherphone:9:43.
Shesniffs,wipesherface,takesabreath,andgoesbackinside.
“Miss,youcan’t—”someonesaysasshemarchesbackintoColin’soffice.
Heglancesupfromhiscomputerlookingstartledandguilty,asifhe’dbeenGooglingsomeparticularlyarcanepornography.“Rachel,Itold—”
Shesitsandresiststheurgetojumpoverthedesk,putaknifetohisthroat,andscreamforthetellerstogiveherthegoddamnmoneyinnonsequentialbills.
“I’lltakeanyloanthisbankoffersatanyrateofinterest,nomatterhowpredatory.Ineedthemoney,Colin,andI’mnotgoingtoleavethisfriggingofficeuntilIgetit.”
Hereyes,sheknows,haveapiratical,dangerous,bank-robberglinttothem.Lookatme,theyseemtosay,Iamcapableofanythingrightnow.Doyoureallywanttobeginyourdaywiththeguardsdraggingmeoutofherekickingandscreaming?
Colintakesadeepbreath.“Well,um,wedoofferaninety-dayemergencyhomefinan—”
“HowmuchcanIget?”Rachelinterrupts.
“Wouldfifteenthousanddollarscoveryour,er,roof?”
“Yeah.”
“Therateofinterestwouldbewellaboveour…”
Shetuneshimoutandletshimspinhertheblah-blah-blah.Shedoesn’tcareabouttherateofinterestortheservicefee.Shejustwantsthemoney.Whenhe’sdonetalking,shesmilesandsaysthatallsoundsfine.
“I’llneedtodosomepaperwork,”Colinsays.
“CanIhavethemoneytransferreddirectlyintomyaccount?”
“You’dpreferthatoveracheck?”
“Yes.”
“Wecandothat.”
“I’llbebacktosignthepaperworkinanhour,”shesays,thenshethankshimandgoesoutside.
Shelooksatherhastilyscrawled,extremelyincriminatingchecklist.
1.Ransom2.Burnerphones3.Researchtarget/victim4.Getgun,rope,ducttape,etc.5.Researchplacetohidevictim
She’sneartheNewburyportlibrary.Maybeshecandosomeresearchonatarget/victiminthathour?Sure,yeah,move,Rachel,move.
SherunsdownStateStreettothelibrary,sprintsupthelibrarysteps,andfindsanemptystudycubicleintheLovecraftWing.FirstthingshedoesisGoogletheWilliamsfamilyofDover,NewHampshire.Agrislyrobbery/homeinvasiongonewrong,thepolicethought.Amotherandhertwochildrenandhernewboyfriendweretiedup,andallofthemwereshotinthehead.Thechildrenhadbeenkilledhoursbeforethemother,soshe’dhadplentyoftimetosufferandthinkaboutit.
Utterlychilled,Rachelbeginsresearchingpotentialtargets.
Howhadtheyfoundher?Apininamap?PTArecords?Uberprofile?
Facebook.GoddamnFacebook.
ShefiresupherMacBookAir,logsontoFacebook,andspendsthenextforty-fiveminutesscrollingthroughnamesandfacesoffriendsoffriends.
Thereareabreathtakingnumberofpeoplewhoseprofilesandpostsarepublicandcanbeviewedbyanyone.GeorgeOrwellwaswrong,shethinks.Inthefuture,itwon’tbethestatethatkeepstabsoneveryonebyextensiveuseofsurveillance;itwillbethepeople.They’lldothestate’sworkforitbyconstantlyuploadingtheirlocations,interests,foodpreferences,restaurantchoices,politicalideas,andhobbiestoFacebook,Twitter,Instagram,andothersocialmediasites.Weareourownsecretpolice.
Somepeople,shediscovers,helpfullyupdatetheirFacebookandInstagramfeedseveryfewminutes,givingpotentialkidnappersorburglarsintimatetemporalandgeographicinformationontheirwhereabouts.
It’sallgoodstuffandRacheldecidestohuntfortargetsintheGreaterBostonandNorthShoreareas.Successful,togethermenandwomenwhoareunconnectedtolawenforcement,whohavebighousesbutsmallfamilies,andwholookasiftheycanpayaransomandcontinueTheChain.
Shetakesouthernotebookandmakesapreliminarylistofcandidates.
Thensheclosesthecomputer,picksupherleatherjacket,putsthelistinherzippocket,andgoesbacktothebank.
Coliniswaitingforher.Shesignstheformsandwhenallthatisdone,shesaysshe’llwaitwhilehetransfersthemoneyintoheraccount.It’stheworkofamoment.
ShethankshimandgoestothePaneraBreadonStoreyAvenue.Sheordersacoffeeandtakesaboothinthecorner,thenlogsontothefreewireless,firesuptheMac,anddownloadstheTorsearchengine,whichlooksseriouslyuntrustworthy.Nevertheless,sheclickstheicon,andjustlikethat,she’sonthedarkweb.She’sheardofthedarkwebandknowsitasaplacewhereyoucanbuyguns,restrictedprescriptiondrugs,andnarcotics.
ShefindsaplacetobuyBitcoin,readsthroughtheprocedures,setsupanaccountforherself,andbuystenthousanddollars’worthofBitcoinwithherVisa.Thenshebuysanotherfifteenthousanddollars’worthofBitcoinusingtherecentlydepositedmoneyinherFirstNationalaccount.
ShefindstheInfinityProjectsBitcoinaccountandtransfersthemoney.Thetransactiontakeslessthanasecond.
Andjustlikethat,theransomispaid.Jesus.
Sowhathappensnext?Wouldtheycallher?Shelooksatthephoneandwaits.ShesipshercoffeeandstaresattheotherpeopleinPanera.Theyhavenoideatheyarelivingthedream.Theyhavenoideahowbaditcangetontheothersideofthelookingglass.
Shetugsataloosethreadonherblouse.
HerphonedingswithanotherphotoofKylie—hereshe’ssittingonamattressinabasement—andamessagefromUnknownCaller:Furtherinstructionscoming.Remember:it’snotaboutthemoney,it’saboutTheChain.Moveontopart2.
Moveontopart2?Didthatmeantheyreceivedthemoney?Shehopesshehasn’tscreweditup.
Butofcourse,thatwastheeasypart.
SheclosestheMacandgoesoutsidetothecar.
Whatnow?Backtothehouse?No,notbacktothehouse.Nowshehastogettheburnerphonesandagun,andthebestplacetodothatisfarfromneighborsandpryingeyesandtheMassachusettsgunlaws,overthestatelineinNewHampshire
SherunstoherVolvo,getsin,turnstheignition,and,withagrowlofclutchandasquealofbrakes,headsnorthagain.
10
Thursday,10:57a.m.
EveryoneontheradioistalkingabouttheshootingofastatetroopernearPlaistow.ThereareonlyaboutfourorfivemurdersayearinNewHampshire,sothisisbignewsandit’soneverystation.
Thereportsunnerveher,sosheturnstheradiooff.
JustoverthestatelineinHampton,NewHampshire,shefindstheplaceshe’sbeenlookingfor:Fred’sFirearmsandIndoorTacticalRange.She’ddrivenbyFred’sathousandtimesandneverdreamedaboutstopping.
Untiltoday.SheparkstheVolvoandgoesinside.Herstomachstillhurtsfromthepunchinthegutandshewincesalittleasshewalks.
Fredisatall,heavy,amiable-lookingsixty-year-oldwearingaJohnDeerecap,adenimshirt,andjeans.Hisfaceisbadlypockmarkedbuthe’sstillahandsomeoldgeezer.Themostdistinctivethingabouthim,perhaps,isthegunbelthewearslowonhiswaist.Therearetwosemiautomaticsinopenholsters,which,Rachelassumes,aretheretodeterpotentialthieves.“Morning,ma’am,”hesays.“WhatcanIdoforyou?”
“I’mhereforagun.SomethingIcouldkeepinmyroomfor,youknow,personalprotection.We’vehadreportsofburglarsinourneighborhood.”
“YoufromBoston?”heaskswithalookthatseemstoaddThatcityofNoamChomsky,theHarvarddebatingsociety,andTedKennedy?
“Newburyport,”shesaysandthenwondersifperhapssheshouldhavegivenafakehometown.
“You’relookingforapistol?Athirty-eight,somethinglikethat?Somethingsimple?”
“Yes,exactly.I’vebroughtmydriver’slicense.”
“I’llputyournameinthesystem.There’satwo-daywaitingperiodwhilewecheckyouout.”
“What?No,I’llneedsomethingsoonerthanthat,”shesays,tryingnottosoundsuspicious.
“Well,ma’am,todayIcansellyouarifleorashotgun,anyofthese,”Fredsays,pointingatarowofguns.Rachelisfivefootninebuttheyalllooktoobigforherandtooungainlytohideunderacoatwhileshe’ssidlinguptosomepoorkid.
“Doyouhaveanythingmorecompact?”
Fredrubshischinandgivesheranodd,penetratinglook.Shewishesthenthatshelookedprettier.Attractivewomendidn’tgetthatsortoflook…ornotasmuch,anyway.Inhertwenties,RachelhadlookedlikeJenniferConnellyinAngLee’sHulk,accordingtoMarty,butallthatwasgonenow,ofcourse.Hereyeswerehollowandringed,andthebloomwaspermanentlymissingfromhercheeks.
“Thelawputsalowerlimitonbarrellength,butwhataboutoneofthese?”Fredsays,andfromunderthecounterhepullsoutwhathesaysisaRemingtonModel870ExpressSyntheticTacticalpump-actionshotgun.
“Thismightdo,”shereplies.
“It’sa2015,used.Icouldletyouhaveitforthreehundredfifty.”
“I’lltakeit.”
Fredwinces.ClearlyhewasexpectinghertohagglehimdownbutRachelissodesperateshe’swillingtopaytheaskingprice.Sheseeshimlookoutintotheparkinglotandnotethathercarisabeat-uporangeVolvo240.“Tellyouwhat,”hesays.“I’llthrowinaboxofshellsandalittlelesson.Doyouwantmetoshowyouhowtouseit?”
“Yes,please.”
Fredwalkshertotheindoorrange.
“Youeverfireagunbefore?”heasks.
“No.I’veheldone.Arifle,inGuatemala.ButIneverfiredit.”
“Guatemala?”
“PeaceCorps.Weweremakingwells.MeandMarty—myex—wereliberalartsmajors,soofcoursetheysentustothejungletoworkonanirrigationproject.Wehadnoclue.Wehadourbabygirlwithus.Kylie.Crazy,really,whenyouthinkaboutit.Martysaidhesawajaguarstalkingthecamp.Noonereallybelievedhim.Hehurthisarmwhenhefiredtherifle.”
“Well,I’mgoingtoteachyouhowtodoitright,”Fredsaysandhegivesherearprotectorsandshowsherhowtoloadtheweapon.“Tightagainstyourshoulder.Therewillbeakick,it’satwenty-gauge.No,no,muchtighter.Braceitwithyourbody.Ifthere’sagap,theweaponwilldriveitselfintoyourcollarbone.RememberNewton’sthirdlaw.Everyforceresultsinanequalandoppositeforce.”
Fredpushesabuttonandapapertargetcomesuponaroofrunnerandstopstwenty-fivefeetawayfromthem.There’saclaustrophobicsmellinhereofgreaseandgunpowder.Thetargetisascary-lookingmanalsocarryingaweapon;it’snotaterrifiedlittlekid.
“Pullthetrigger,that’sit,goon,easydoesit.”
Shesqueezesthetrigger,there’sanenormousbang,andFredisrightaboutNewton’sthirdlaw.Thebarrelpoundsintohershoulder.Whensheopenshereyesandlooksatthepapertarget,shefindsthatithasbeenobliterated.“Twenty-fivefeetorcloserandyoushouldbeOK.Ifthey’refartherawayandthey’rerunning,letthemrun.Yougetmydrift?”
“Letthemruntowardyousoyoucankillthemorletthemrunawayandcallthepolice.”
Hewinksather.“Youcatchonquick.”
Shetakestheshellsandpayswithherfloodmoney.ShethanksFredandgoesouttothecarandputstheshotgunonthepassengerseatnexttoher.Ifthey’remonitoringherthroughherphonesomehow,hopefullytheywillseethatshe’sseriousandthatshe’sgettingthingsdone.
11
Thursday,11:18a.m.
TheHamptonMallistheperfectplacetobuyburnerphones.Sheslidesthecarintoaspotintheparkinglot,opensupthetrunk,andrummagesaroundlookingforKylie’sRedSoxcap.HerownYankeeshatsometimesattractsattention;aSoxoraPatscapnevergetsasecondlook.Shefindsthecap,putsiton,andpullsitlowoverherface.
Herphoneringsandherstomachlurches.“Hello?”shesaysautomaticallywithoutwaitingtoseewhoitis.
“Hi,Rachel,thisisJennyMontcrief,Kylie’shomeroomteacher.”
“Oh,Jenny,um,hi.”
“WewerewonderingwhereKyliewastoday?”
“Yes,she’ssick.Imeanttocalltheoffice.”
“Youhavetocallbeforenine.”
“Iwillnexttime,Ipromise.I’msorry.Shewon’tbeintoday,she’snotfeelingwell.”
“What’sthematter?Anythingserious?”
“Justacold.Ihope.Ohand,um,vomiting.”
“Oh,dear.I’msorrytohearthat.Hopefullywe’llseehertomorrow.Rumorhasitshe’scookingupagreatpresentationonKingTut.”
“Tomorrow,um,Idon’tknow.We’llsee.Thesethingsareunpredictable.Listen,Ibettergo,I’mgettingsomemedicineforherrightnow.”
“Howlongisshegoingtobeout?”
“Idon’tknow.Ihavetogo.”Anothercalliscomingin,fromanUnknownCaller.“’Bye,Jenny,sickdaughter,havetorun,”Rachelsaysandanswerstheincomingcall.
“Ihopeyou’reworkinghard,Rachel.I’mrelyingonyou.Myboywon’tgetreleaseduntilyougetsomeonetotakehisplace,”thewomanholdingKyliesays.
“I’mdoingmybest,”Racheltellsher.
“TheysaidtheysentyouamessageandtoldyouabouttheWilliamsfamily?”
“Theydid.”
“Ifyougetoutofthis,youhavetokeepquietortheblowbackwillgetyoulikeitgotthem.”
“I’llkeepquiet.I’mcooperating.I’mdoingthebestIcan.”
“Keepgoing,Rachel.Remember,iftheytellmeyou’retrouble,Iwon’thesitatetokillKylie!”
“Pleasedon’tsaythat.I’m—”
Butthewomanhashungup.
Rachellooksatthephone.Herhandsareshaking.Thewomanisclearlyonedge.Kylieisinthehandsofsomeonewhosoundslikeshe’sonthevergeofanervousbreakdown.
Ayoungmangetsoutofacarintherowopposite.Helooksatherstrangelyforamomentandthennodsgrimlyather.
IsheanotheroneofTheChain’sagents?
Aretheyeverywhere?
Suppressingawhimper,sheputsthephoneinherbagandhurriesthroughthedoubledoorsofthemall.
TheSafewayisopenandalreadyfilledwithpeople.Shegrabsashoppingbasket,speedspastthedisplaysofThanksgivingmerchandise,andfindstheracksellingthoseinexpensivecellphones.Shepicksuponethatlooksgood,anAT&Tcheapothatcanstilldophotosandvideo.It’s$14.95.Sheputsadozenoftheminthebasketandthenthrowsintwomore.Fourteen.Willthatbeenough?Thereareonlysixphonesleftontherack.Hellwithit.Shetakesthosetoo.
SheturnstoseeVeronicaHart,hereccentricneighborwholivesfivehousesdownfromheronPlumIsland.OhGod.Theveryreasonshe’dcomeupherewastogetawayfromanybodywhomightpossiblyknowher.IfVeronicaseesthephones,she’llaskherifshe’spreppingfortheendoftheworldandthenshe’llpointoutthatcometheapocalypse,zombieswillteardownthecell-phonetowers.It’llbeawholething.RachellurksbehindtheunsoldHalloweenmerchandiseuntilVeronicapaysandleaves.
Shescansthephonesattheself-servecheckoutcounter.Afterthat,shegoesdowntotheAceHardwareandbuysrope,chains,apadlock,andtworollsofducttape.
ThecashierisahipsterwithlongElvissideburnsandsunglasses.“Thirty-sevenfifty,”hesays.
Shehandsovertwotwenties.
“You’resupposedtosay‘It’snotwhatyouthink,’”thecashiersays.
Rachelhasnoideawhathe’stalkingabout.“What?”
“Allthis,”hesays,loadingthegearintotwoplasticbags.“ItlookslikeaFiftyShadesofGreystarterkit,butI’msurethere’samoreinnocentexplanation.”
Therealexplanationismuchmoreterrifying.“Nope,that’sexactlywhatitis,”Rachelsaysandhurriesoutofthestore.
12
Thursday,11:59a.m.
Kyliehasnophone,soshehasnoideawhattimeitis,butshethinksitmightstillbemorning.Shecan’thearanything,butshecanseelightthroughthebasementwindow.
Shesitsupinthesleepingbag.It’ssocolddowntherethatfrosthasformedonthesidesofthewindows.Mayberunninginplacewillhelp?
Kyliewormsherwayoutofthesleepingbagandstandsinhersocksonthefreezingconcretefloor.Shewalksasfarasthechainwilllether,whichisn’tveryfar.Asmallcirclearoundthebedandbacktothebigoldcast-ironstove.Isthatthingasheavyasitlooks?Shegoestoitand,withherbacktothecamera,givesitashove.Itdoesn’tmove.Notaninch.Shescurriesbacktothesleepingbagandwaitsunderthecovers,strainingtohearifthebasementdoorisbeingopened,butnoonecomes.
They’rebusy.Theyaren’twatchingherthroughthecamera.Oratleastnotcontinually.They’veprobablyconnectedittoalaptopandoccasionallycheckinonher.Ifshecouldmovethestove,thenwhat?She’dstillbechainedtothestupidthingandstandingthereatthebottomofthestairswithnowayout.
Underthesleepingbag,sheexaminesthehandcuffonherwrist.Almostnospaceatallbetweenmetalandskin.Maybeacoupleofmillimeters.Couldsheslidethehandcuffoffherwristwiththattinyamountofspace?Itseemsunlikely.HowhadHoudinidoneit?HerfriendStuarthadbeenintothatHoudiniminiseriesandencouragedhertowatchit.Shecertainlydoesn’trememberHoudinieverslidingahandcuffoffhiswristinanyofhisescapes.Hehadalwayspickedthelockswithahiddenkey.Ifsheevergetsoutofthis,she’llhavetolearnsomesurvivalskillslikethat.Self-defense,handcuff-lockpicking.Sheexaminesthehandcuffclosely.ThewordsPEERLESSHANDCUFFCOMPANYarestampedintothemetaljustbelowalittlekeyhole.Whatyoudoisputyourkeyinthelockandturniteitherclockwiseorcounterclockwiseandthehandcuffopens.Whatsheneedsissomethingthatwilldothejobofthekeyandspringthemechanism.Thesleeping-bagzipisnogood.Thepencilthey’dgivenherfordrawingisnogood.Nothinginthecardboardboxisanygood,exceptmaybethe…
Shelooksatthetubeoftoothpaste.What’sitmadeof?Metal?Plastic?Sheknowsthatoilpaintsarekeptinmetaltubes,buttoothpaste?Sheexaminesitcarefullybutcan’tfigureitout.It’sColgateCavityProtection.Itlookslikeanoldtubethey’vekeptintheirsparebathroomforyears.Couldyoupossiblyusethepointybitatthebottomtopickthehandcufflock?
Shepokesitintothekeyholeanditdoesn’tseemimpossible.She’llhavetocarefullyripthebottomoffthetubeandattempttofashionitintoakey.Thewomanwillkillherifshefindshertryingtoescape.Tryingtoescapeisadangerouslongshot,butit’sbetterthannoshotatall.
13
Thursday,12:15p.m.
There’sashortmanstandinginfrontofherhouse.Theshotgunisinthepassengerseat.AsRachelpullsintotheparkingspot,shereachesforit.Sherollsthewindowdownandputstheshotgunacrossherlap.“Hello?”shesaysinquiringly.
Themanturns.It’soldDr.Havercampfromtwohousesdownonthetidalbasin.
“Hello,Rachel,”herepliescheerfullyinhisruralMaineaccent.
Rachelputstheshotgunbackinthepassengerseatandgetsoutofthecar.Dr.Havercampisholdingsomething.
“IthinkthisisKylie’s,”hesays.“Hernameisonthecase.”
Rachel’sheartleaps.Yes,it’sKylie’siPhone—maybethatwillgivehersomeclueastowhereKylieis.Shesnatchesthephoneoutofhishandsandturnsitonbuttheonlythingthatappearsisthelockscreen:apictureofEdSheeranplayingguitarandthespacetoenterthefour-digitcode.Racheldoesn’tknowthecodeandshe’ssureshewon’tbeabletoguessit.Ifyouguesswrongthreetimes,thephonelocksitselffortwenty-fourhours.
“ItisKylie’sphone.Wheredidyoufindit?”Rachelasks,tryingtosoundcasual.
“Itwasatthebusstop.IwaswalkingChesterandIthought,That’saphone,andIpickeditupandsawKylie’snameontheback.Shemusthavedroppeditwhenshewaswaitingfortheschoolbus.”
“She’llbesorelieved.Thankyou.”
Racheldoesnotinvitehiminorofferhimcoffee.InthispartofMassachusettsthat’salmostacapitaloffense,butshehasnotime.
“Um,IguessIbettergo.Ihavebilgetopump.Takecare,”hesays.Shewatcheshimgodownthroughthereedstohisboat.
Whenhe’sgone,shebringstheshotgunandothersuppliesintothehouse,getsadrinkofwater,andturnsonherMac.Thecomputerflarestolifeandshelooksatitwithajaundicedeyeforamoment.AretheywatchingherthroughtheMac’scameraandheriPhonecamera?ShereadsomewherethatMarkZuckerbergputapieceofmaskingtapeoverthecameraonallhiselectronicdevicesasasecurityprecaution.Shegetstapefromthekitchendraweranddoesexactlythat,coveringthecameraonherphone,herMac,andheriPad.
Shesitsattheliving-roomtable.
Nowtothetaskathand.
Shehastokidnapachild?Shelaughsbitterly.Howonearthisanythinglikethatpossible?It’smadness.Completeanduttermadness.
Howcanshedoathinglikethat?
Againshewonderswhytheypickedher.Whatdidtheyseeinherthatmadethemthinkshewouldbeabletodosomethingasutterlyevilaskidnappingachild?Shehasalwaysbeenthegoodgirl.Straight-AstudentatHunterCollegeHighSchool.SheacedherSATsandnailedtheHarvardinterview.Sheneverspeeds;shepayshertaxes;she’sneverlateforanything;sheagonizeswhenshegetsaparkingticket.Andnowshe’ssupposedtodooneoftheworstthingsanyonecouldeverdotoafamily?
Shelooksthroughthewindow.Abeautiful,clearfallday.Thetidalbasinfilledwithbirdsandafewfishermendiggingforbaitonthemudflats.ThispartofPlumIslandisamicrocosmofthispartofMassachusetts.Onthissideofthetidalbasin,youhavethesmallerhousesonthemarsh;ontheeastside,youfindthebigemptysummerhousesthatfacethebreakersoftheAtlanticOcean.Thewestsideofthebasinisallblue-collarfirefighters,teachers,andcrabmenwholivehereyear-round.TheeastsidebeginstofillupwiththewealthysummerfolkinMayorJune.Martyandshehadthoughtthey’dbesafeouthere.SaferthanBoston.Safe—whatajoke.Nobody’ssafe.WhyweretheynaiveenoughtothinkthatyoucouldliveanywhereinAmericaandbesafe?
Marty.Whydoesn’thecallherback?WhatthehellishedoinginAugusta?
ShegetsthelistofnamesthatsheculledfromFacebookandbeginsscrollingthroughthemagain.
Allthosehappy,smilingfaces.
Agrinninglittleboyorlittlegirlthatsheisgoingtopointagunatanddragintohercar.AndwhereinthenameofGodisshegoingtoholdthispoorsoul?Herhouseisoutofthequestion.Thewallsaremadeofwood,andthere’snosoundproofing.Ifsomeonestartsscreaming,halfadozenneighborswillhear.Andshedoesn’thaveaproperbasementoranattic.AsColinTemplehadsaid,thishousereallyislittlemorethanaglorifiedbeachshack.Perhapsshecouldcheckintoamotel?No.That’snuts.Toomanyquestions.
Shelooksthroughthewindowatthebighousesonthefarsideofthebasinandsuddenlyamuchbetterplanoccurstoher.
14
Thursday,12:41p.m.
Sherunstoherbedroom,pullsoffherskirt,andslipsonapairofjeansandsneakers.Sheputsonherredsweater,Kylie’sRedSoxcap,andazip-uphoodie;sheopenstheFrenchdoorsandgoesoutontothedeck.
Shewalkstothelittlesandypaththatrunsalongthesideofthebasinbetweenthereeds.
Coldwind,rottingkelp.TVandradionoisedriftingdownfromwaterfronthomes.
Shekeepsclosetotheshoreuntilshe’shalfwayupthebasinontheoceanside.ThensheslipsoverontoNorthernBoulevardand,tryingtolookasinconspicuousaspossible,beginsexploringthebigbeachfronthousesthatfacetheAtlantic.
Allthesummerpeoplearegone,butwhichofthesehomesbelongtosummerfolkandwhichbelongtoyear-roundresidents?Therearemoreyear-roundersnowthatPIhasitsownwaterandsewagebuttheold-moneytypesarecreaturesofhabit,arrivingonMemorialDayandflyingoffagainonLaborDaylikeplovers.
Determiningthatahouseisoccupiedistheworkofamoment:lightson,acarinthedriveway,voices.Determiningthatahouseisemptybutonlytemporarilyisalsofairlyeasy:nolightson,nocarinthedriveway,butmailpilingupinthemailbox,andthegasisstillon.
Determiningthatahouseisemptyandlikelytostayemptyforawhileisalittletrickier,butnotastrickyasyoumightthink.Lightsoff,electricityoff,wirelessoff,nomailinthemailbox,gaslinesturnedoff.ButthosecouldstillbethehomesofweekenderswhoworkedinBostonorNewYorkfromMondaytoFridayandshowedupSaturdaymorningintheirL.L.Beanbootsandcoats,somewhatsurprisedtofindastrangerstandinginthekitchennexttoakidtiedtoachair.
Whatshe’slookingforisahousethat’sweatherproofedforthewinter.Nor’eastersthistimeofyearareparticularlysevere,andalthoughmostofthehomesfacingtheoceanareupondunesabovethesea,ifthere’sahightideandabadstorm,wavescouldcomelashingovertheirdecksandsmashtheirexpensiveplate-glasswindows.Soifahouse’sownersweren’tgoingtobebackuntilChristmasorspring,they’dhammerboardsoveralltheeast-facingwindows.
Thishadbeendoneinseveralofthebiggerhouses,andthereisoneupnearthepointthatsheparticularlylikes.It’smadeofbrick,whichisrarearoundhere;almostalltheotherhousesontheislandaretimber-constructionjobs.Evenbetterthanthebrickwallsisthefactthatithasanactualbasementbelowground.Thistellsherthatitwasbuiltbefore1990,whichwaswhenbylawshadbeenintroducedrequiringallnewhousesonPlumIslandtobefloodproofed—meaningthattheyhadtobeonstiltsabovetheground.
Rachelwalksaroundthispromisinghouse,investigating.Thesea-facingwindowsareboardedupandthesideonesaretoo.Shehopsoverthefenceandchecksthefuseboxesandthelines.Thegasandelectricityareoffandthere’snothinginthemailboxatall;clearly,allthemailisbeingforwardedorheldatthepostoffice.AsignonthemailboxsaysthatthehousebelongstotheAppenzellers.Sheknowsthesepeoplealittlebit.Anoldercouple.He’sinhislatesixties,originallyfromBoston,aretiredchemistryprofessoratEmory.Thewife,Elaine,isalittleyounger,latefifties.Secondmarriageforbothofthem.IfRachelisrememberingcorrectly,theygotoTampainthewinter.
Rachelgoesupontotheeast-facingreardeck.Thedeckhasprivacywalls,whichmeansthatyoucansittherewithoutbeingseenexceptbythepeoplewalkingpastdirectlyaheadofyouonthebeach.Atthistimeofyear,therearen’tmanyofthosepeople.
Thebackentranceleadsstraightintothekitchen.There’salockedscreendoorthatopenswhenshegivesitagoodtug.Thekitchendoorhasanordinarydoorknob.
Sheexaminesitcloselyandtakesapictureofitwithherphone.ShespendstenminutesGooglingtheimageanddiscoversthatitisaSchlagefaux-GeorgianF40doorknobthat,accordingtoseverallocksmithsites,canbedisabledwithahammerandachiselstraightdownthemechanism.
What’sworrying,though,isthesignonthekitchenwindowthatsaysthatthehouseisprotectedbyAtomicAlarms.Ifshedoesopenthebackdoor,shemighthavethirtysecondstofindthealarm’scodebox,andifshedoesn’tputthecodeinfastenough,allhellwillbreakloose,won’tit?TheAtomicAlarmssign,however,looksveryold.Itwasonceabrightblueandithasnowfadedtoalightgray.Willthealarmstillworkwiththeelectricityturnedoff?
There’soneotherhugeproblemwiththehouse.TheAppenzellersarerightnexttooneofthemanypathscuttingthroughthedunesthatleadtothePlumIslandbeach.Atthistimeofdaynooneisusingthepath,butinthemorningssheimaginesthatit’sbusywithdog-walkersandresidentstakingtheirdailyconstitutionals.Ifakidisscreaminghisheadoff,hewillbeheardunlessshecansoundproofthebasement.Abigboardoverthebasementwindowmightdothetrick,butitwon’tbefoolproof.Hmmm.SheremembersVoltaire’swarningabouttheperfectbeingtheenemyofthegood.Shecouldspendaweeklookingforthebestavailableemptyhouse,aweekinwhichKyliewillbesufferinginahomemadedungeon.Apartfromthealarmstickerandthedunepath,theAppenzellerhouseisprettyclosetoideal.It’salittleremovedfromtheotherdwellingsonthisstripandpartiallyisolatedbydunes.It’sofftheroadbyaboutfifteenyardsandtheAppenzellershaveplantedcypresstreesasfurthershieldingfromthesettingwesternsun.
ShesitsinoneoftheAdirondackchairsontheAppenzellers’backporchanddialsthenumberforNewburyHomeSecurity.
“NHS,thisisJackson,howcanIhelpyou?”amananswersinaRevereaccentsostrongitcouldstrippaint.
“Oh,hi.Canyouhelpmewithanalarmquestion?”
“I’lltry.”
“Myname’sPeggyMonroe.Iliveoutontheisland.Mydaughter’ssupposedtowalkElsieTanner’sNeapolitanmastiffwhileshe’saway,andElsiegaveherthekeybutthere’sanoldAtomicAlarmsstickerinthewindowandmydaughter’sworriedthatifsheopensthedoor,thealarmwillgooff.Anysuggestions?”
Rachel’snewtothelyinggame.Sheisn’tsureifit’sbettertosayaslittleaspossibleortobechattyandgivenamesanddetailsinordertoassuagesuspicion.Shewentwiththelatterplan,andnowsheworriesthatshe’smessedup
Jacksonyawns.“Well,ma’am,IguessIcouldcomeoutthereandtakealookifyouwant,butit’safifty-dollarminimum.”
“Fiftydollars?That’smorethanshe’sgettingpaidtowalkthedog.”
“Yeah,Ifigured.Look,IthinkyourdaughtershouldbeOK.AtomicAlarmswentoutofbusinessinthenineties.BreezeSecuritytookovermostoftheiroperation,buttheBreezeguysmadesuretheytookalltheoldAtomicsignsoffthewindowpanes,sochancesareifthere’sanoldAtomicAlarmssignupthere,thealarmisn’tconnectedtoanything.Didsheseeanyneweralarmsigns?”
“No.”
“I’dsayshe’sgoingtobeOK.Ifshedoesgetintrouble,callmebackandI’llcomeoutthereandseeifthere’sanythingIcando.”
“Thankyouverymuch.”
ShewalksbacktoherhouseontheothersideofPlumIslandandfindsachiselandhammerinMarty’soldtoolbox.Atoolboxhehadneverreallyusedforanything.Hisbrother,Pete,wastheengineer,carexpert,andfixer,notMarty.Whenthey’dfirstmoveduphere,ithadbeenPetewhohadmadethehouselivablewhenhewashomefromoneofhistours.
Herheartdrops.IfanythinghappenstoKylie,itwillkillPete.Uncleandniecedoteoneachother.Rachelfeelsthetearswellingupagainandforcesthembackdown.Sobbingwon’tgetKylieback.
Sheputsthehammerandchiselinagymbagandgrabsaflashlight.Incaseoftrouble,shegetstheshotguntoo.Itjustaboutfitsinthebag.
Itbeginstodrizzleasshewalksalongthebasintrail.Theskyisgraynowandthereareominousblackcloudstothewest.Rainwouldbegood.It’ddeterdog-walkersandbusybodies.
ShewondersifthekidnappershaveKyliesomewherewarmandsafe.She’sasensitivegirl.Sheneedslookingafter.Rachelmakesafistandslamsitintoherthigh.I’mcoming,Kylie,I’mcoming,I’mcoming.SheputsherhoodupandwalksalongNorthernBoulevardtotheAppenzellers’.Yeah,thosecypresstreesoutfrontwilldoaprettydecentjobathidingnefariousgoings-oninside.Shecutsdownthesandypathandhopsthefenceagain.Sheexaminestherectangularbasementwindowthat’ssixinchesabovetheground.It’sthreefeetlongandafoottall.Shetapstheglass—itdoesn’tlooktoothickbutifyoucoveredtheglasswithanacrylicsheetorathickwoodenboard,youcould,perhaps,effectivelymufflesounds.
Shewalkstothebackporchandopensthescreendoor.Herheartisbeatingfast.Itseemsnutstobedoingthisinbroaddaylight,butshehastogetamoveon
Shetakesthechiseloutofthebagandpositionsitinthecenterofthelockatthekeyhole.Thensheraisesthehammerandhitsthechiselhard.There’sametallicthudbutwhenshetriesthehandle,itdoesn’tturn.Shepositionsthechiselagainandhitsmuchharder.Thistimeit’saswingandamiss,andthehammerplowsintothewoodendoor.
Jesus,Rachel.
Sheliftsthehammerbackandstrikesathirdtime.Theentirecentermechanismcollapsesandbitscomeflyingout.Rachelputsdownthechiselandhammerandgingerlytriesthedoor.
Thehandleturns,andwhenshepushes,thedoorcreaksopen.
Shetakesouttheshotgunandtheflashlightand,shakingallover,goesinside.
15
Thursday,1:24p.m.
Shestandsinthehouseshe’sjustbrokeninto.Thirtysecondsoffear.
Nodogscomeather.Noalarmsounds.Nooneyells.
Itisn’tjustluck.Shehasscouteditwell.
Thehouseismustyandempty.Athinlayerofdustcoatsthekitchensurfaces.NoonehasbeeninheresinceearlySeptember.Sheclosesthekitchendoorbehindherandexploresthehome.
Threeuninterestinglevelsandaveryinterestingbasementwithbrickwallsandaconcretefloorandnothinginitbutawashingmachine,adryer,andaboiler.Thehouseisheldupbyaseriesofconcretepillarsandshecould,shethinksindisgust,chainsomeonetooneofthosepillars.Shechecksoutthelittlewindowabovethedryer.She’llcoverthatwithaboardshe’llgetfromthehardwarestoreintown.
Rachelshiverswithamixtureoffascinationandrevulsion.Howcanshethinkaboutthissortofthingsoglibly?Isthatwhattraumadoestoyou?
Yes.
Itremindsheragainofthechemodays.Thenumbness.Thefeelingofplungingintotheabyssandfalling,falling,fallingforever.
Shegoesupstairs,leavesthroughthebackdoor,closesit,shutsthescreendoor,andmakessurethecoastiscompletelyclearbeforegoingdownthebackstepsontothebeach.
Shewalkshomeagainthroughtheseasprayanddrizzle.
SheopensherMacBookattheliving-roomtableandbeginscheckingtheFacebookfeedsonherlistofpotentialtargets.
Selectingtherighttargetisveryimportant.Youhavetochoosetherightkindofvictimwiththerightkindoffamily,peoplewhowon’tlosetheirshitandgotothecopsandwhohaveboththemoneytopaytheransomandtheemotionalwherewithaltocarryoutakidnappingtogettheirchildback.
Againshewonderswhyshewassingledout.Shewouldn’thavepickedherself.Noway.Shewasgoingtopicksomeonemuchmoretogether.Amarriedcouple,maybe,withmoney.
Shegetsoutherlegalpadandcomesupwithsomecriteriasoshecannarrowdownherlonglist.Noonewhoknowsherandmightpossiblyrecognizehervoice.NooneinNewburyportorNewburyorPlumIsland.Butalsonotsomeonewhoistoofaraway.NooneinVermontorMaineorsouthofBoston.Peoplewhohavedough.Peoplewholooksteady.Nocops,journalists,orpoliticians.
Shescrollsthroughnamesandfacesandagainmarvelsathowwillingpeoplearetospilltheirintimatesecretsonthewebforanyonetosee.Addresses,phonenumbers,occupations,numberofkids,wheretheirkidsgotoschool,alltheirhobbiesandactivities.
Akidisprobablythebestbet.Themostpliable.Theleastlikelytostruggleorescapeandthemostlikelytopullattheheartstringsoflovedones.Butkidsarewellwatchedinthisdayandage.Itmightbetrickytograbachildwithoutbeingseen.
“Exceptformykid.Anybodycantakemykid,”Rachelsaysandsniffs.
ShegoesthroughFacebookandInstagramandTwitterandappliesthecriteria.Shecullsherlonglistdowntofivekids.Sheranksthechildreninorderofpreference.
1.DennyPattersonofRowley,Mass.2.TobyDunleavyofBeverly,Mass.3.BelindaWatsonofCambridge,Mass.4.ChandraSinghofCambridge,Mass.5.JackFentonofGloucester,Mass.
“Ican’tbelieveI’mdoingthis,”Rachelsaystoherself.Although,ofcourse,shedoesn’thavetodoanything.ShecouldgotothecopsortheFBI.
Shetakestimetoconsiderit.Toreallythinkaboutit.TheFBIareprofessionals,butthewomanholdingherdaughterisn’tafraidofthecriminaljusticesystem;she’safraidofTheChain.ThepersonaboveheronTheChainhasherson.AndifRachelisperceivedasadefector,thiswoman’sinstructionsaretomurderKylieandselectanewtarget.Thewomanissoundingincreasinglyonedge.Rachelhasnodoubtshewilldoanythingtogethersonback…
No,noFBI.Andfurthermore,whenshemakesthephonecallthatthewomanmadetoher,she’llhavetosoundequallydeterminedanddangerous.
Shelooksatthenotesshe’smadeonhervarioustargets.Hernumber-onechoicelooksverygoodindeed:DennyPatterson.Twelve.Liveswithhismom,Wendy,inRowley.Singlemom,dadoutofthepicture.Sheisn’tbankrupt.Infact,sheseemstobequitewell-off.
Rachelconsidersthat.WhatisitthattheoperatorsofTheChainwant?ThemostimportantthingisthatTheChainitselfcontinues.Someofthepeopleonitwillbericherthanothers,butmorecrucialthantheirwealthisthefactthattheyhavetobecleveranddiscreetenoughtoaddanotherlinkandkeepthewholethinggoing.EachindividuallinkinTheChainisprecious.Thetargetshavetohavemoneybuttheyalsohavetobecompetentandpliableandafraid.Likesheisnow.Astronglinkwithafewhundreddollarsinthebankisbetterthanaweaklinkwhoisamillionaire.
Kierkegaardsaidthatboredomandfearlayattherootofallevil.TheevilpeoplebehindTheChainwantthemoneytheycollect,andwhattheyfearistheindividualwhomightbringthewholethingcrashingtoahalt.
Rachelisnotgoingtobethatperson.
BacktoDenny.Denny’smomhadacompanythatwasboughtbyAOLbackintheday.Lovesherson,bragsabouthimallthetime.Sheseemstoughandunlikelytogotopieces.Forty-fiveyearsold.RantheBostonMarathontwice,in2013andagainlastyear.Fasterlastyear.Fourhours,twominutes.
Dennylikesvideogames,SelenaGomez,andthemovies,andthebestthing—fromRachel’spointofview—isthathe’scrazyaboutsoccer.Goestopracticethreetimesaweekafterschoolandoftenwalkshome.
Walkshome.
Curly-haired,nice,normalkid.Noallergies,nohealthproblems,isnotbigforhisage.Infact,helooksalittlebitsmallerthantheaverage.Definitelynotthegoalkeeperforhisteam.
Themomhasonesister;shelivesinArizona.Dadnotaround.LivesinSouthCarolina.Remarried.
Nofamilycoporpoliticalconnections.
Wendyhasembracedthedigitalfuture,Instagrammingortweetingherlocationandwhatsheisuptopracticallyeverywakingminuteoftheday.SoifRachelspiesthekidatsoccerpractice,Wendywillletherknowwherethehellsheis.
Kid1soundsverypromising.ShelooksnowatKid2:TobyDunleavy,alsotwelve,fromBeverly.Hasalittlesister.MothercontinuallyupdatingeverythingtheydoonFacebook.
ShepullsupHelenDunleavy’sFacebookpage.Asmiling,pleasant-lookingblondeaboutthirty-five.I’mnotneurotic.Iamtoobusytobeneuroticarethewordsunderherphoto.HelenlivesinBeverlywithherhusband,Mike,andhersonanddaughter,TobyandAmelia.MikeisamanagementconsultantinBostonwithStandardChartered.Helenisapart-timekindergartenteacheratNorthSalemElementarySchool.
Ameliaiseightyearsold,fouryearsyoungerthanToby.RachelscrollsthroughtheFacebookfeed.HelenteacheskindergartentwomorningsaweekandtherestofthetimesheseemstospendupdatingherfriendsonFacebookaboutthefamily’sdoings.MikeDunleavyapparentlyworkslonghoursinBostonandmostnightsdoesn’tcomehomeuntillate.RachelknowsthisbecauseHelenpostsaboutwhattrainMikeiscomingbackonandwhethersheisgoingtohavethekidswaitupforhimornot.
RachelfindsMike’srésuméatLinkedIn.He’sthirty-nine,originallyfromLondon,andrecentlylivedinNewYork.Nopoliticalorpolicebackground,andhelooksstableenough.Helikessoccer,andheusedtobeanauctioneerbeforegoingintomanagementconsulting.HisclaimtofameissellingacanofMerdad’ArtistabyPieroManzoni.
Helenisoneofthreesisters.She’sthemiddlechild.Bothofhersistersarehomemakers.Oneismarriedtoalawyer;oneisdivorcedfromafoodscientist.
Thekidsgetpickedupfromschooleverydaywithoutfail,butwhatmakesTobyattractiveisthefactthathehasjuststartedarchery.GoestwiceaweektotheSalemandDistrictArcheryClub.
ArcheryisToby’sbignewpassion.There’salinkonhisFacebookpagetoanadorableYouTubevideoofhimshootingatvariousarcherytargetstothemusicofIniKamoze’s“HereComestheHotstepper.”Andthegreatthingisthathewalkshomefromthearcheryclub.Allbyhimself.He’sagoodboy.Kidsshouldbedoingmoreofthat,Rachelthinksandthenremembersthatsheisexactlythereasonwhyhelicopter/overprotectiveparentsexist.
Kid1andKid2bothlookpromisingandshehasthreesolidbackupstoo.
Sheclosesthecomputer,getshercoat,anddrivesintotowntovisitthehardwarestore.Inthecarherphonebeginstoring.“Hello?”
“Hi,couldIspeaktoRachelO’Neill,please.”
“Thisisshe.”
“Hi,Rachel,I’mMelanie,callingfromthefrauddepartmentatChase.IwantedtoalertyoutosomeunusualactivityonyourVisacardthismorning.”
“OK.”
Melanieaskshersomeverificationquestionsandthengetstothepoint:“Apparentlysomeoneusedyourcardtopurchasetenthousanddollars’worthofBitcoin.Doyouknowanythingaboutthat?”
“Youdidn’tstoptheorderfromgoingthrough,didyou?”
“No,wedidn’t.Um,butwewerewondering—”
“Itwasme.Ididit.It’sallfine.It’saninvestmentI’mmakingwithmyhusband.Look,I’mreallyinthemiddleofsomething,Ihavetogo.”
“Sothere’sbeennounusualactivity?”
“Nope.Nothingunusual.Allgoodhere.Butthankyouforcalling.Ireallyhavetogo.Goodbye,”Rachelsaysandhangsup.
AtthehardwarestoreshegetsaboardmadefortheAppenzellers’basementwindowandwhenshe’sonthewaybackhome,Martycalls.Finally!
Shetriesnottoburstintotearsathisalwaysamiableandcheery“Hey,sweetie,what’sup?”
Forsomereason,youcan’treallyhateMartynomatterhowmuchyouwantto.Somethingaboutthosegreeneyesandthatdarkwavyhair.Rachel’smotherhadwarnedherthathewasarogue,butthatkindoftalkhasalwaysbackfiredonmothers.
“Tammysaidsomethingaboutaleakyroof?”Martyinquires.
“What?”
“Theroof.Tammysaidrainwascomingin?”
“Whereareyou,Marty?”sheasksandalmostaddsIneedyou.
“I’minAugusta.We’redownherefortheretreat.”
“Whenareyoucomingback?”
“I’llbebackFridayeveningtotakeKyliefortheweekend,don’tworry.”
Rachelstiflesasob.“Oh,Marty,”shewhispers.
“That’stomorrow,hon.Hanginthere.”
“Iwill.”
“Thisisn’tabouttheroof,isit?What’shappening,babe?Something’swrong.Tellme.”
AsidefromthefactthatI’mprobablydyingandourdaughter’sbeenkidnapped?sheverynearlysaysbutdoesn’t.Doesn’tbecauseMartywouldgostraighttothepoliceandwouldn’tunderstand.
“Isitaboutmoney?Ihaven’tbeengood,Iknowthat.I’lldobetter.Ipromise.Haveyougotacontractor?”
“No.I’vegotnohelp,”Rachelsaysinamonotone.
“Howbadlyistheroofleaking?”
“Idon’tknow.”
“Look,hon,Icheckedtheweather.Norooferwillcomeoutintheraintonight.MaybePetecouldhelp?”
“Pete?WhereisPete?”
“He’sinWorcester.Ithink.”
“I’llsendhimatext.IthinkI’llbeallowedtodothat.”
“Whatareyoutalkingabout?Allowedbywhom?”
“Nothing.Noone.Yes,maybeI’llaskPete.I’llthinkaboutthat.”
“Allright,sweetie.Ireallyhavetogo,OK?”
“OK,Marty,”shesayssadly.
“’Bye,”hesaysandhangsup.Withouthiscalmingbaritone,thecarischillyandsilentoncemore.
16
Thursday,2:44p.m.
Unlessyouareabowhunter,aparaplegic,anancient-firearmsenthusiast,orundertheageofeighteen,deer-huntingseasoninMassachusettsdoesn’tbeginuntilNovember27.
Pete,however,hasneverreallyboughtintothelogicoftheMassachusettshunting-seasondatesor,indeed,mostlaws,rules,andordinances.
Heknowsthatiftherangersorasheriffcatcheshim,hecouldgetfinedorworse.Buttherangerswon’tcatchhim.PeteknowsthesewoodswestofWorcesterthewayotherpeopleknowthebarsoutsideFenwayortherotationofthegirlsatHurricaneBetty’s.He’sbeenhuntingtheseforestssincehewasaboy.Admittedly,hissensesaredulledsomewhatbecauseofhiscurrentissues,butevenso,noclumsysheriff’sdeputyorhigh-visibility-vest-wearingrangerisgoingtosurprisehim.
HeoftenthinksaboutmovingtoAlaska,wheretherewouldbeevenfewerrangersanddeputies,butKyliewillkeephiminthestateatleastuntilshe’sofftocollege.Kylieishisonlynieceandhe’snutsabouther.Theytextnearlyeverydayandhealwaystakeshertothosemovieshermomcan’tsitthrough.
Petefollowsthebigbuckdeeperintothebirchforest.Ithasnoideaitisbeingstalked.He’supwindofitandhemovesthroughthetreesinuttersilence.Peteisverygoodatthis.IntheMarineshehadbeenanengineeringofficer,butafteracoupleofyearsofbuildingbridgesundermortarfire,hehadtakenasabbaticaltoattendthebasicreconcourseatCampPendleton.Hefinishednearthetopofhisclass.Thebrasshadwantedhimtotransfertoareconbattalionbuthe’ddoneitonlytotesthimself.
Hesightstheoldbuckinhisrifleandaimsundertheheart,butjustasheisabouttosqueezethetrigger,hisphonevibratesinhispocket.Shouldhaveturneditoff,hethinks.Didn’timaginetherewouldbeasignalouthere.
Helooksatit.Twonewmessages,onefromRachelandonefromMarty.Bothaskingthesamequestion:Whereareyou?
HetriestorespondtoRachel,butthemessagewon’tgothrough.HeignoresMarty’stext.Hedoesn’thateMartybuttheyhavelittleincommon.There’ssixyearsbetweenthem,andbythetimeMartywasupwalkingandtalkingandstartingtogetinteresting,Petehadbeenitchingtogetoutofthehouse.Andgetouthehad.Attheageoftwelve,hehad“borrowed”aneighbor’sChevyImpalaanddrivenitallthewaytoEastFranklin,Vermont.He’dbeenheadingforMontreal,ofallplaces,buthewasstoppedattheCanadianborderandarrested.
Andnothinghadhappened.Nothingatall.Thejudgegavehimtheoldblah-blah-blahandafinger-wagging.He’dstolenmorecarsafterthatbutwasmorecareful.Noattemptstocrosstheborder,noracing.Hehookedupwithabadcrowdinhighschool,butnobodycaredaslongashemaintainedahigh-Baverage,whichhedid.SchoolboredhimbuthesomehowmanagedtogetacceptedtoBostonUniversitytostudycivilengineering.AtBUhejustaboutmaintainedaCaverage.Hespentmostofhistimeplayingwiththenewcomputer-aideddesignsoftware,creatingoutrageoussuspensionbridgesthatcouldneverbebuiltandold-fashionedcantileverbridgesthatnoonewanted.HegraduatedinMayof2000withnoplansfororideasabouthisfuture.
HemovedtoNewYorkandattemptedtomakealivingasacybersecurityexpertontheburgeoningWorldWideWeb.Everybodysaidthattheinternetwasthenewgoldrush,butPetemusthavebeenpanninginthewrongvirtualrivers.Hebarelymadeenoughtokeepupwiththeinterestonhisstudentloans.
Butthenayearlater:September11.
HewenttoTimesSquarethenextmorning.NoonewhowasinNewYorkthenwilleverforgetthatdayafter.Itwasanewworld.Attherecruitingbooth,therewasalinethatstretchedtoThirty-FourthStreet.Pete’sgrandfatherhadbeeninthenavy.WithPete’sengineeringdegreeandbackground,therecruitersrecommendedthenavyortheMarineCorps.PetechosetheMarines.Andthatwasallshewroteforthenextthirteenyears.OfficerCandidateSchool,thecombatengineers,sevenoverseastours,fivetooperationaltheaters.AftertheMarines,he’dtraveledsomeandfinallymovedbacktoWorcester.
Nowthatchapterofhislifeisclosed.Nowhe’sjustanotherunemployedforty-year-oldwhoneedstotakesomefreevenisontomakeitthroughthewinter.
Thestaglowersitsbigheadtotakeadrinkatastream.There’sascarthatrunsalongitsleftflank.They’vebothbeeninthewars.
Petehasaclearshot,butsomethingtellshimthatthestagisgoingtohavetowait.Hehasthatfeelingyougetinthebackoftheneck:Somethingisup.Somethingiswrong.
Helooksatthetextsagain:Whereareyou?
IsRachinsomekindoftrouble?Heputstherifleoverhisshoulderandlooksforsomeslightlyhighergroundtoseeifhecangetasignal,butnowhisphonesaysthatit’sgot1percentcharge.
Heclimbsthelittlehillabovethewaterfallandtriestextingfromtherebutinthetwominutesthatthattakes,ofcoursehisphonedies.Thebigstagturnstolookathim.Theystareateachotherforthreeseconds.
Spooked,itslipsbetweenthetrees.Petewatchesitvanishwithregret.Foodstampsgoonlysofar.Hesecurestherifleandheadsbacktohistruck.
Andnowhisskinisstartingtocrawl.Isitthattimealready?Helooksatthesky.Itcan’tbethreeo’clock.Butevidentlyitis.Hehikesthroughtheautumnalwoodandfindshispickuptruckundisturbedinthefirebreak.Unfortunately,hehasn’tbroughthisphonecharger,sohewillhavetowaituntilhegetsbacktohisapartmentinWorcestertoseewhatRachelwants.
17
Thursday,3:27p.m.
Kyliesitsinthesleepingbag.Sheholdsthetoothpastetubeinonehand,herwristsachingfromtheeffortoftryingtopickthehandcufflock.SheremembersaYouTubevideoStuartwantedtoshowheraboutthreewaystogetoutofhandcuffs.Stuartlovesthatkindofthing—Houdini,magic,escapes.Shehadn’twatchedit;she’dbeenonherownphonescrollingforthevideoaboutanewsecretchambersomeonehadfoundintheGreatPyramid.
Nexttimeshewouldpayattention.
Ifthereisanexttime,shethinkswitharushofterror.
Shebreathesdeepandcloseshereyes.
Shelikesmagicalso.
TheEgyptianslivedinagod-and-demon-infestedworld.
Therearedemonsheretoo,buttheyarehumanbeings.
Shewondersifhermomisdoingthethingsthekidnapperswanthertodo.Shewondersifthekidnappershavemistakenhermomforsomeoneelse.Someonewithaccesstoabankvaultorgovernmentsecrets…
Shetakesabigbreath,letsitoutslowly,doesitagain.
She’scalmernow.Notcalm,butcalmer.
Shelistenstothenothing.
No,notnothing.There’salwayssomething.Crickets.Ajet.Averydistantriver.Secondstickpast,thenminutes.Shewantstherivertotakeherawayfromthisplace,thesepeople,awayfromallofit.Itdoesn’tmatterwhere.ShewantstoliebackandletthecurrentfloatherdownthroughthemarshestotheAtlantic.
No.That’sfake.Adream.Thisisreal.Thisbasement.Thesecuffs.Beinthenow,theschoolcounselorhadsaidinthatmindfulnessclasstheyhadallmocked.Bepresentandseeeverythingthereistoseeinthenow.
Sheopenshereyes.
Shelooks,reallylooks.
Sheseeseverythingthereistosee.
18
Thursday,3:31p.m.
WendyPattersonpicksupDennyfromRowleyElementarySchool,takeshimtosoccerpracticeatRowleyHighSchool,thendrivesintoIpswichandgetsherselfasoychailattefromtheStarbucks.SheInstagramsapictureofthelatteandaThanksgivingcookiethatshegotforDenny.
Dennyhaschangedintohissoccerclothesandisdoingdribblingdrillswiththeteam.RachelwatcheshimfromherVolvo240parkedacrossthestreetwhileusingherphonetomonitorWendy’stweets,Facebookupdates,andInstagrams.Shewatcheshimandfeelssickwithdoubt.Howcanshedothis?It’sthemostevilthingyoucouldeverdotoamom,toafamily.ButthenshethinksaboutKylielockedinsomecrazywoman’sbasement.It’sthemostevilthingyoucandobutithastobedone.
ShewatchesDennyplay,andwhenthepracticeisoversheseesthat,yup,WendyisstillinIpswichattheStarbucks.ThedrizzlehasstoppednowanditlookslikeDennyisgoingtobewalkinghome.Wendydoesn’tindicateonherFacebookfeedthatsheiscomingtopickhimup.
CouldRachelgrabhimnow?
Shehadthoughtthatthiswouldbeascoutingtrip,notasnatch-and-grabmission.Shehasn’tpreparedtheAppenzellerhouseyet.Theboardisn’toverthebasementwindow;shedoesn’thaveamattressdownthere.Butiftheopportunitypresentsitself?
Shefollowsthelittleboyinhercarashewalkshomewithafriend.Obviously,shecan’tgrabtwokids,soshe’llhavetowaituntiltheypart.
Sheknowsshemustlookverysuspicious,creepingalongatfivemilesperhourfollowingtwolittleboys.
Shehasn’tthoughtthisthroughproperly.ShehasnoideawhereinRowleyDenny’shouseis.Isheonthemainroad?Downacul-de-sac?ShecursesherselffornotfiguringouttheroutefromthehighschooltohishouseonGoogleMaps.
ThefriendhangswithDennyforafewblocksbutthenwavesandleaves,andDennyisbyhimself.
LittleDennyallalone.
Rachel’spulsequickens.Shelooksatthefrontpassengerseat.Gun,skimask,handcuffs,blindfold.
Sherollsthewindowdownandcheckshermirrors.
Therearewitnesses.Anoldmanwithadog.Ahigh-schoolgirljogging.Rowleyisasleepylittlecommunitybutnotquitesleepyenoughtoday.Andthen,justlikethat,Dennywalksupadriveway,takesakeyoutofhispocket,andgoesintohishouse.
RachelparkstheVolvoontheothersideofthestreetandchecksWendy’sFacebookfeed.Nowsheiscominghome,itsays.
RachelhasabouteightornineminuteswithDennyintherebyhimself.Ishebyhimself?Isthereadogorahousekeeperorsomething?
Canshejustputontheskimask,marchacrosstheroad,andringthedoorbell?Howcanshegethimintothecarifshehastomakeaquickgetaway?Inthemovies,lonekidnappersusedchloroform-soakedragstogettheirvictims.Couldyoubuychloroformatthepharmacy?Whatifsheusedtoomuchandsentthefrickin’kidintocardiacarrest?
Sheputsherfaceinherhands.
Howisthishappeningtoher?Whenisshegoingtowakeupfromthisnightmare?
Shegoesthroughthesethoughtsoverandoveruntilit’stoolate.Wendy’swhiteVWSUVrollsupinfrontofthehouse,andWendygetsout.
Rachelcursesherself.
She’sblownit.Almostonpurpose.Almostonpurposeoutofsheercowardice.
Butassoonashismomappears,Dennycomesoutside,andheandakidfromnextdoorstartplayingbasketballontheotherkid’shoop.
Shewatchesthembothgreedily.Thewayapredatorwatchesitsprey.
Eitherwoulddoinapinch.Ifshecouldgetoneofthemalone…
Shelooksatherwatch.Notyetfiveo’clock.Thismorningwhenshewokeup,shehadbeenacompletelydifferentperson.AsJ.G.Ballardpointedout,civilizationisjustathin,fragileveneeroverthelawofthejungle:Betteryouthanme.Betteryourkidthanmykid.
Whentheone-on-onebasketballgameisover,Dennygoesbackinside.Afewmomentslater,aLowellPoliceDepartmentpatrolcarpullsupinfrontofthePattersons’houseandasix-foot-threeuniformedcopgetsout.
Rachelslinksdowninherseat,butthecophasn’tcomeforher.HeiscarryingagiantboxofLegos.HeringsthePattersons’bellandWendyanswers.Shegiveshimakiss,andRachelwatchesthecopgoinside.Shewatchesthroughtheliving-roomwindowasheruffleslittleDenny’shairandgiveshimtheLegos.
IguessWendydoesn’treporteverythingonFacebookandInstagram,Rachelthinks.AndtheregoesKid1.Nolawenforcement.Therulesareclear.Shetakesouthernotebookandherphone.Kid2isnowKid1.
TobyDunleavy.
RachellooksatHelenDunleavy’sFacebookfeed.SheselectedHelenbecauseshewasanotheroneofthosepeoplewhofelttheneedtoshareeverythingthatwashappeningtothemeveryhalfanhourorso.Sheseemslikeanicelady,though,andagoodmom.That’sthekindyouwant:agoodmomwhowilldoanythingtogetherchildback.
Shedeep-divesonMike,Helen’shusband.StandardCharteredisasafe,boringenoughplacetowork.He’sprobablyusedtodealingwithstressandhe’llhavemoneytopayaransom.MikeisEnglishbutlivedinManhattanformanyyears.Hehasafoodblogandhe’dwrittenafunnyposttitled“WhatCameFirst,Zabar’sortheUpperWestSide?”Anotherniceguy.Notaguyyou’dwanttoputthroughhell.
Butthen,nobodyshouldbeputthroughwhatshe’sgoingthrough.
Shepausesandagainracksherbrainforanyotherwayoutofthis,butnothingcomestomind.FollowTheChain.That’sall.IfyoufollowTheChainyougetyourkidback.Ifyoudon’t…
HeriPhonebeginsringingasshe’slookingatToby’sTumblrfeed.ThescreensaysUnknownCaller.
“Hello?”Rachelsayshesitantly.
“Howarethingsgoing,Rachel?”avoiceasks.It’ssomeonespeakingthroughavoicedistorter.TheoriginalsomeonewhocontactedherthismorningwhenshewasonI-95.
“Whoareyou?”Racheldemands.
“I’myourfriend,Rachel.Afriendwhowilltellyouthetruthnomatterhowbitterthattruthis.You’reaphilosopher,aren’tyou?”
“Iguess—”
“Youknowwhattheysay.Thelivingareonlyaspeciesofthedead,aren’tthey?Andaveryrarespeciesatthat.Thecradlerocksovertheabyss.Yourdaughter’snamedKylie,isthatright?”
“Yes.She’sagreatkid.She’sallIhave.”
“Ifyouwanthertostayinthelandoftheliving,ifyouwanthertocomebacksafely,you’regoingtohavetogetyourhandsdirty.”
“Iknow.I’mresearchingtargetsrightnow.”
“Good.That’swhatwewant.Doyouhaveapieceofpapernearby?”
“Yes.”
“Writethisdown:2-3-4-8-3-8-3-h-u-d-y-k-d-y-2.Sayitbacktome.”
Rachelrepeatsit.
“That’stheWickraccountnameforthispartofTheChain.That’sW-i-c-k-r.You’llneedtodownloadtheapponyourphone.Sendthedetailsofthetargetsyouareconsideringtothataccount.Someoneheremayvetthislist.Wemayvetosomeofyourchoices.Sometimeswevetoallthecandidates,andoccasionallywesuggestsomeofourown.Isthatclear?”
“Ithinkso.”
“Isitclearornot?”
“Itis.Look,Imightneedhelpwiththispart,butIdon’tknowifIcanbringinMarty,myex-husband.Hemightwanttogostraighttothecops.”
“Thenyou’dbetternotbringhimin,”thedistortedvoicesaysquickly.
“Hisbrother,Pete,wasintheMarines,buthe’sdefinitelynotafanoflawenforcement.Hehadsometroublewiththepolicewhenhewasakid,andIthinkhewasarrestedlastyearinBoston.”
“Thatdoesn’tmeanmuch.IheartheBostonPDwillarrestyouforanything.”
Rachelseesasmallopportunityhere.Alittleseedofsomethingthatmightnevergrowbutthatisneverthelessaseed.
“Yeah,”Rachelsaysandthenaddswithseemingindifference,“They’llarrestyouforjaywalking,arrestyouforbangingauey.”
Thedistortedvoicestiflesalaughandmutters,“Verytrue,”beforeimmediatelygettingbacktobusiness.“Wemayallowthisex-brother-in-lawofyours.SendmehisdetailsonWickr.”
“Iwill.”
“Verygood.We’remakingprogress.Thisishowit’sworkedformany,manyyears.TheChainwillgetyouthrough,Rachel,”thevoicesaysandthenthelinegoesdead.
TheLowellcopexitsthePattersonhouseandwalkstohiscar.Wendycomestothedoorandwaves.
It’stimetoleavethisstreetandthistown.
RachelputsthekeyintheVolvo’signition.Thecarbackfires,andthecopturnstolookather.Shehasnochoicebuttowavetohimthroughthewindow.Yetanotherpersonwhohasseenherdosomethingweirdorsuspicioustoday.
ShedrivesalongRoute1AontoRolfesLane,takestheturnpike,andgoesoverthebridgetoPlumIsland.
Halfablockfromherhouse,sheseesKylie’sgeekyfriendStuartapproaching.Shit!
Sherollsherwindowdown,stopsthecar.“Hello,Stu,”shesayscasually.
“Mrs.O’Neill,um,Imean,Ms.Klein,um,Iwaswondering…IwaswonderingwhereKyliewastoday?Ididn’tgetatextfromher.Mrs.M.saidshewassick.”
“That’sright,Kylie’snotwell,”Rachelsays.
“Oh?What’swrong?”
“Um,stomachflu,thatkindofthing.”
“Wow.Really?SheseemedOKyesterday.”
“Itwasverysudden.”
“Musthavebeen.Shetextedmethismorninganddidn’tsayanything.IthoughtshemighthavebeentryingtogetoutofthatEgyptologypresentation,whichiscrazybecause,youknow—”
“She’stheexpert,Iknow.LikeIsaid,itwas,uh,verysudden.”
Stuartseemspuzzledandnotentirelyconvinced.“Anyway,wealltextedherandshenevergotbacktous.”
Racheltriestothinkofareasonableexplanation.“Um,yeah,we’velostwirelessinthehouse,whichiswhyshe’sbeenoutoftouch.Shecan’ttextorInstagramoranything.”
“Ithoughtshestillhadminutesleftonherphone?”
“Nope.”
“Hey,doyouwantmetocomeoverandlookatyourwireless?Itmightbearouterissue.”
“No,betternot.I’mcomingdownwiththeflubugaswell.It’sverycontagious.Don’twanttogetyousicktoo.I’lldefinitelytellKylieyouwereaskingforher.”
“Um,OK,’bye,”hesays,andshestaresathimuntil,intimidated,heturnsandwavesandwalksbackdowntheroadagain.
Shedrivestheremainingfiftyyardstothehouse.Shehasn’tthoughtofthat.Kylie’sschoolfriendstextandmessageallthetime.IfKyliegoesradiosilentformorethananhour,itcreatesabigvacuumintheirlives.Andsoonshe’llstartrunningoutofplausibleexcuses.Anotherthingtoworryaboutontopofeverythingelse.
19
Thursday,5:11p.m.
Peteisn’thomeyetbuthecan’ttakeitanymore.He’sbeeninthewoodsallday.
Hisskiniscrawling;hisskinisonfire.Itis,asoldmanDeQuinceysaid,theitchthatcanneverbescratched.
HepullstheDodgeRamoffRoute2andintotheWachusettMountainStateReservation.There’sapondtherethatnobodyevergoesto.
Hereachesovertheseatandgrabshisbackpack.
Helooksupanddowntheroadbutthere’snoonearound.Fromthebackpackheremovesasmallplasticbagofpremium-gradeMexicanheroin.TheDEAcrackdownonlegitopiateshasaffectedallthepatientswhogettheirmedsthroughtheVA;Petewasabletofillthegapthroughthedarkwebforawhilebutthenthefedsgotactivetheretoo.HeroinisactuallyeasiertoobtainthanOxyContinnow,andheroinismuchmoreeffectiveanyway,especiallygolden-triangleHandthenewstuffcomingupfromGuerrero.
HetakesoutaspoonandhisZippolighterandasyringeandarubberarmtie.Hecookstheheroin,tiesoffavein,sucksthedrugupintothesyringe,andflickstheneedletogettheairbubblesout.
HeinjectshimselfandthenquicklyputstheparaphernaliaintheglovecompartmentincasehepassesoutandaNationalParkServiceclowngetsnosy.
Helooksthroughthewindshieldatthefallfoliageandtheazurepondwater.Thetreesaren’tattheirpeakbutthey’restillbeautiful.Fieryorangesandredsandcrazysunburnedyellows.Herelaxesandletstheheroindissolveinhisbloodstream.
He’sneverlookedatthestatistics,sohehasnoideahowmanyveteransareopiateaddictsofsomesort,butheimaginesthenumberisquitehigh.Especiallyforpeoplewhohavedoneacoupleofcombattours.Duringthe’08surge,everysinglememberofhiscompanyhadbeeninjuredorwounded.Afterawhilepeoplejuststoppedreportingthemselvestothemedics.Whatwasthepoint?Nothingtheycoulddoaboutaconcussionorabrokenriborasprainedback.Youwerejusttakingupabedwhenyourbuddieswereoutthereclearingroadsandremovingexplosivechargesfrombridges.
Whattheseopiatesdo,whatheroindoes,isremovethepainfromyourbodytemporarily.AlltheaccumulatedpainofallthosedecadeswalkingtheEarth.Painfromthegrindingofboneonbone,painfromfalls,painfrompeopledroppinggirdersonyou,painfromtheincompetentoperationofmachinery,painfromfallingthirtyfeetintoawadi,painfromanoverpressureshockwavefromanIEDthirtyfeettoyourrear.
Andthat’sjustthephysicalpain.
Hetiltsthecarseatbackandletstheheroineasehisburdensinawaythatevensleepcannot.Theμ-opioidreceptorsinhisbrainactivateacascadethatleadstoareleaseofdopamineandarushofwell-being.
Hiseyesflickerandhezoetropesthestrangetwiggytreesonthepond’sfarshore,thefallingleaves,andthethin-leggedwadingbirdswalkingoverthepond’smercurysurface.Memoriesandimagesfloodhismindwheneverheuses.Usuallybadmemories.Usuallythewar.Sometimes9/11.HethinksaboutCaraandBlair.He’sjustoverforty,buthehasbeenmarriedanddivorcedtwice.Nearlyeverybodyheknowsisinthesameboat,ofcourse,andit’sworseamongtheenlistedmen.SergeantMcGrath,aguyonhislasttour,hadbeendivorcedfourtimes.
Carawasjustayouthfulmistake—theyweremarriedforonlythirteenmonths—butBlair…ohboy,BlairwasaTownesVanZandtsong.Shehadtakenabigchunkofhisheart,hislife,andhismoney.
Money.Anotherworry.SevenmoreyearsintheMarinesandhecouldhaveretiredonhalfpay.Butthetruthwasthathehadjustbarelyavoidedcourt-martialforwhathadhappenedatBastioninSeptember2012.
Women,money,thegoddamnwar…hellwithitall,hethinksandcloseshiseyesandletstheheroinfixhim.
TheHfixeshim.
Fixeshiminspades.
Hesleepsforabouttwentyminutesandwakesanddrivestoa7-EleventobuyapackofMarlborosandaGatorade.TheworryaboutRachelhastemporarilyslippedhismind.
Hegetsbackinthecabandturnsontheradio.They’replayingSpringsteen.It’snewSpringsteenandhedoesn’tknownewSpringsteenbutit’sallright.HelightshimselfacigaretteandsipstheGatoradeandthendrivestoHolden,wherehetakes122Aintotown.
He’sbeenbackinWorcesterabouttwomonthsnow.Hedoesn’tfeelsentimentalabouttheplace.Hehasnofamilylefthereandveryfewfriendsfromtheolddays.
Theapartmentisinanoldmillthathasbeenconvertedintocondos.It’sonlyafloptocrashinandgetmail.
Heparksthecarandgoesinside.
HegrabsaSamAdamsfromthefridgeandplugstheiPhoneintothecharger.Whenitcomesbacktolife,helooksatasecondtextfromRachel.
TheysaiditwasOKformetobringyouin.Callme,please!itsays.
Hedialshernumberandsheanswersimmediately.“Pete?”sheasks.
“Yeah,what’sup?”
“Areyouhome?”
“Yeah.What’sgoingon?”
“I’llcallyourightback,”shesays.
Thephonerings.ItsaysUnknownCaller.“Rachel?”
“I’mcallingyoufromaburnerphone.Oh,Pete,Ineedtotalktosomebody.ItriedtotalktoMartybuthe’sinGeorgia.OhGod,”shebeginsanddissolvesintosobs.
“Haveyoubeeninanaccident?What’shappening?”heasks.
“It’sKylie.They’vetakenKylie.They’vekidnappedher.”
“What?Areyousureshe’snotjust—”
“They’vetakenher,Pete!”
“Haveyoucalledthepolice?”
“Ican’tcallthecops,Pete.Ican’tcallanybody.”
“Callthepolice,Rachel.Callthemnow!”
“Ican’t,Pete,it’scomplicated.It’ssomuchworsethanyoucanimagine.”
20
Thursday,6:00p.m.
PetehasthesamerecurringthoughtasRacheldoes:IftheyharmonehaironKylie’shead,hewillscorchtheirworldandstamponthesmolderingashes.Hewillspendtherestofhislifehuntingthemdownandkillingthemall.
NooneisgoingtoharmKylie,andtheyaregoingtogetherback.
PetedrivestheDodgeRamhardtothefrontgateoftheself-storageyardonRoute9.Heparksoutsidelocker33.It’sthebiggestlockeryoucanget,thesizeofacoupleofgarages.Hehadgraduatedfromthesmalllockertothemediumoneandnowtotheir“deluxestoragefacility.”Heopensthepadlock,rollsupthemetaldoor,findsthelightswitch,andpullsthedoorclosedbehindhim.
WhenhismomsoldthehouseandmovedtothatplacenearScottsdale,Petehadjusttakenallhisstuffanddumpeditinhere,addingtoitovertheyears.Untilheboughttheapartmenthe’sinnow,hehadneverreallyhadacivilianhouse.He’dlivedinthemarriedquartersatCampLejeuneandasuccessionofbilletsinIraq,Qatar,Okinawa,andAfghanistan.Thisanonymousself-storageplacebetweentheroadandtheoldruinedfreightrailwayistheclosestthinghe’sgottoapermanenthome.
Hecanspendhoursheregoingthroughhisoldcrapbuttodayheignoresthenostalgiaboxesandgoesstraighttotheguncabinetonthewallattheback.Rachelwasconfusedandunclearonthephone.KyliehadbeenkidnappedandatthisstageRacheldidn’twanttogotothepolice.Shewantedtocooperatewiththekidnappersanddowhattheyasked.Ifhecan’tpersuadehertobringintheFBI,thetwoofthemwillneedtobewellarmed.Heunlockstheguncabinetandtakesoutbothofhishandguns—hisgrandfather’snavy-issue.45ACPandhisownGlock19—andfinallyhisWinchestertwelve-gauge.Hisrifleisinthecabalready.
Hetakesspareammoforalltheweaponsandgrabsacoupleofflash-bangstungrenadeshe’dsmuggledhome.Ifthisbecomesarescuemission,whatelsewillheneed?HegetshisB-and-Eequipment—lock-pickkit,sledgehammer,EM-alarmjammer,latexgloves,flashlight—andthebuggingandanti-bugginggearhe’dacquiredforhispostCorpscorporatework.
HeloadseverythingintotheDodgeRamandwonders,Whatelse?
Hetakesthezip-lockbagcontaininghisstashofheroinoutoftheglovecompartment.
Thiswouldbethetimetogocoldturkey.Toendit.Leaveithereanddriveawaywithoutit.
Hehasotherprioritiesnow.
Nevergoingtogetanotheropportunitylikethisone.
Torchit.Ridethepain.GetKylieback.
Tworoads.Yellowwood.Allthatshit.
Hestandsthere.
Hesitating.
Thinking.
Heshakeshishead,putstheplasticbaginhisjacketpocket,closesthelocker,exitsthestorageyard,andheadsforthehighway.
21
Thursday,8:30p.m.
RachelhasresearchedtheDunleavyfamilyuntilhereyesaretearingandherheadisspinning.Sheknowsthembetterthantheyknowthemselves.
She’sreadeveryblogandFacebookfeedandInstagrampost.Everytweetandretweet.SheknowsthatTobytookuparcherybecausehewasinspiredbyaDanishspeedarcherinaYouTubevideo,nothisfather’sbow-huntingproclivities.SheknowsthatAmeliaDunleavyhasapeanutallergyandthatherelementaryschoolhasbannedpeanutsbecauseofit.
She’sreadallofMike’snewishbow-huntingblogandhisfoodblogallthewaybacktohisveryfirstpost,in2012,arecipeforachocolateBundtcake.
SheknowsthatHelenwantedtoreturntoworkfull-timebutwasworriedshedidn’thavetheenergyrequiredtobeafifth-gradeteacher.Tonsofstufflikethat.SomeofithelpfultoRachel;mostofitnot.
Sheclosesthefilesonhercomputerandlooksathernotes.She’sprintedoutamapofBeverlyanddrawnthepossibleroutesbackfromthearcheryclubtotheDunleavyhouse.It’llhavetoberesearchedontheground.ShehaspreparedaBtargetandaCtarget,butsheknowslittleTobyDunleavyisgoingtobetheone.
Fulldarknowonthebasin.Theboatsareinforthenight.
Clothesareeverywhere,thecat’slitterboxisunemptied,thebreakfastdishesarestillthere—thehouseisagoddamnTraceyEminpieceofmodernartcommemoratingamoreinnocenttimethatisnevercomingback.
Rachelexaminesherleftbreast.Itdoesn’tfeelanydifferent,butthedoctorisprobablyrighttobeconcerned—therecouldwellbesomethingmalignantgrowinginthereagain.Ifshedoesnothing,themalignantentitywillkillher,eraseherfromexistence.Howpleasantthatwouldbe.
Shestaresthroughthewindow.Theclarityofthelighthasfadedandtheagitatedskyhasturneddarkblueandblack.
Thedrizzlehasbecomerain.
Shehearswhatsoundslikeapickuptruckcomingdownthelane.
Shesprintsoutside.
Petegetsoutofthecabandsherunstohimandheputhisarmsaroundherandtheystandthereinthedownpoursayingnothingforfifteenseconds.Petehelpsherbackinsideandtheysitattheliving-roomtable.
“Tellmethewholestoryfromthebeginning,”Petesays.
RacheltellsPeteeverythingthathappenedsincethatfirstphonecall,includingeverythingshehasdone:paidtheransom,gottenthephones,gottenagun,brokenintotheAppenzellers’house,triedtofigureoutexactlywhomtokidnap.Shedoesn’ttellhimabouttherenewedconcernsofheroncologist—that’sbetweenheranddeath.
Petelistensbutsaysnothing.Heletshertalk.
Hetriestotakeitallin.
It’sincredible.
HehasseenevilupcloseinAfghanistanandIraq,buthewasn’texpectingsomethingthisclinicalanddiabolicalinAmerica.Neverinhiswildestdreamsdidheimagineamalevolentforcelikethiscomingnearhisfamily.Thisissomeseriousorganized-crimeorcartelshit.
“Whatdoyouthink?”Rachelaskswhenshe’sdone.
“Ithinkwehavetogotothecops,Rachel,”hesayssoberly.
She’sbeenexpectingthisanswer.SheshowshimthestoryabouttheWilliamsfamilyonherlaptop,andwhilehe’sreadingit,shetellshimaboutthemanoutsidethebank.Shetakeshishand.“Youdidn’tspeaktothem,Pete.Idid.ThatwomanholdingKylieisterrifiedforherson.IftheytellhertokillKylie,shewill.Iknowshewill.She’llkillKylieandselectanothervictimtostaygoodwiththem.KeepingTheChaingoingisouronlyoption.”
Sheknowsshesoundslikesomeoneinacult,butthatprettymuchsumsitup.She’sallinnow,shebelievesthem,andshewantsPetetobelievethemtoo.
“SotogetKylieback,we’llhavetokidnapsomeone,”hesays,shakinghisheadinhorror.
“Wehaveto,Pete.Ifwedon’t,theykillher.Ifwegotothepolice,theykillher.Ifweevertalkaboutit,theykillher.”
Pete’smindgoesbacktothatclasshehadbeenforcedtotakeonethicsatQuantico.TheIsraeliIDFguestlecturerhadgiventhemapresentationonwhyitwasethicaltodisobeyanillegalorder.Moralityenteredintotheequationeveninthemilitary.AndwhatRacheliscontemplatingnowisnotonlyillegalbutabsolutelymorallywrong.Morallywrongfromeveryconceivableangle.TheethicallyrightplaywouldbetogototheFBIimmediately.FindthenearestFBIfieldofficeandtellthemthewholestory.
ButthatwillgetKyliekilled.Rachelbelievesthat,andhebelievesher.AndKylie’ssafereturnistheonlythingPetecaresabout.
Thedecision’sbeenmade.Iftheyhavetokidnapsomeonetogetherback,he’lldoit.Ifhehastokillsomeonetogetherback,he’lldoit.Ifhegetsherbackandtheystickhiminacageforfiftyyears,itwillbeeasytime,easybecauseKyliewillbesafe.
“ThismorningtheysentmeaphotoofKylietoshowmethatshe’ssafe,”Rachelsays.Shaking,shegivesPeteherphone.
PetelooksatthephotooflittleKylieblindfoldedandsittingonamattressinabasement.Therearefewcluestoherlocationthathecansee.She’sbeengivenPolandSpringwaterandshe’sgotgrahamcrackers,butthoseyoucangetanywhere.Kyliedoesnotseemtohavebeenphysicallyabusedbutofcourseshemustbeterrifiedbeyondbelief.
Hegoestothekitchenandpourshimselfsomecoffee.Hetakesamomenttoassessthesituation.“We’rerulingoutthepolice?Definitely?”heasks.
“TheChainvoiceandthewomanholdingKyliewerebothveryclear.TheysaidthatifIbreakanyoftherules,they’llhavetokillKylieandmoveontoanothertarget.”
“Howwilltheyknowifyou’rebreakinganyoftherules?”
“Idon’tknow.”
“Havetheybuggedyourhouse?Haveyouhadabreak-inrecentlyoranyunusualvisitors?”
“No,nothinglikethat,butIthinktheyhackedmyphoneearliertoday.Theyknewapolicecarwasbehindmeonthehighway.AndtheyknowwhoI’mcallingandwhatI’mtalkingabout.TheyseemtoknowwhereIamatalltimes.Ithinktheymighthavebeenlookingthroughthephone’scamera.Cantheydothat?”
Petenods,turnsoffRachel’siPhone,andputsitinadrawer.HeclosesherMacBookandplacesitwiththephone.“Sure.Yousayyouboughtdisposablephones?”
“Yes.”
“Usethemforalloutgoingcallsfromnowon.Anddon’tuseyourcomputeragain.I’vebroughtmine.They’veprobablyhijackedthecameraonyourphoneandcomputeranddisabledthecameralightsothattheycanseeyouandyoudon’tevenknowit’son.Thestuffthatgoesoninintelblackopswouldblowyourmind.”
“Icoveredthecamerawithapieceoftape.”
“That’sagoodidea,butjustbeawarethattheymightbelisteningtoo.I’llsearchthehouseforbugs.Yousayyouhaven’thadabreak-in?WhataboutanunscheduledTV-repairguyorplumberoranythinglikethat?”
“Nothinglikethat.”
“Good.Couldjustbespyware.Now,whathaveyoutoldMarty?”
“Nothingsofar.He’sinAugusta,playinggolf.”
“He’smylittlebrotherandIlovehim,butMarty’sgotamouth,andifyou’reworriedaboutsecurityorsomeonegoingtotheFBI…”
“NothingthatwillriskKylie,”shesays.
Petetakeshercold,tremblinghandinhis.“It’sgoingtobeOK,”hesays.
Shenodsandlooksintohisdark,steadyeyes.“Areyousure?”
“I’msure.We’regoingtogetherback.”
“Whyme,doyouthink?Whymyfamily?”sheasks.
“Idon’tknow.”
“Shesaidsheresearchedmeonline.ShesawthatMartyandIdidthatPeaceCorpsprojectinGuatemala.ShesawHarvardandcancersurvivorandallmyjobsandshethoughtIseemedlikesomeonewhohadheracttogether.I’mnot.I’maloser,Pete.I’mweak.”
“You’renot,you’re—”
“I’vescrewedupmywholelife.IinvestedeverythinginMarty.Ican’tevenlookaftermyowndaughter!”
“Stopit,Rach.”
“Idon’townagun.Ihadtobuyone.Today.”
“Anothersmartmove.”
“TodaywasthefirsttimeI’veeverfiredone.”
Petenowtakesbothofherhandsinhis.“Trustme,Rachel.You’rehandlingthis.AndnowI’mheretohelpyou.”
“IntheMarines,Iknowyouwereanengineer,butdidyouever,haveyoueverhadoccasionto…”
“Yes,”hesayssimply.
“Morethanonce?”
“Yes.”
Shenodsandtakesadeepbreath.“IdroveuptoNewHampshiretogetthegunandtheothersupplies.IwasnearlyseenbysomeoneontheislandbutIthinkIgavehertheslip.”
“That’sgoodtoo.”
“HowcananyonecarryoutanykindofcriminalenterpriseinNewEnglandwheneverybodyknowseverybody?”
Petesmiles.“We’llfigureitout,Rach.Whatelsehaveyoudone?”
“Herearemytargets,”shesays,handingPetethelistofvulnerablekidswhofitthecriteria.
“Youwantstableparentswholookasiftheywon’tgotothecopsandwho’llcarryoutakidnapping?”Peteasks.
“Theycan’tbebroke,andtheycan’thaveanyconnectiontocops,journalists,orpoliticians.Andtheyhavetohavekidsoftherightage.Nokidswithspecialneeds.Nodiabeticsoranythinglikethat.”
“Whataboutkidnappingaspouseinsteadofachild?”Peteasks.
“Youcan’tbesureofhowsomeonewillfeelaboutaspouse.Lookatus.Threedivorcesbetweenus.Butallparentslovetheirkids,right?”
“Right.Well,thisseemsOK.TobyDunleavy,that’syournumber-onetarget?”
“Yup.Ihadadifferentnumberone,butthemomwasdatingacop.”
“HaveyoubeenovertotheDunleavyhouse?”
“Nope.Gonnadothatlatertonight.ButfirstIneedyourhelpwiththemattressandtheboardattheAppenzellers’.”
“Whereisthisplace?”
“Justacrossthebasin.Comeon,I’lltakeyou.”
Theygooutsideintherainandwalkalongthebasintrail.“Alotofthesebighousesarevacantthistimeofyear,”Rachelexplains.
“Youbrokeintooneofthesebyyourself?”Peteasks.
“Yup.IknewtheAppenzellersweregone.Iwasalittleworriedaboutanalarmbuttherewasn’tone.”
“Youdidwell.I’vedoneafewB-and-Esmyselfandit’salwaysscary.”
“Wecangointhroughtheback,”RachelsayswhentheyreachthepathnexttotheAppenzellerhouse.
“Thisplaceisagoodchoice,Rach.Ilikethebrick,”Petesays.“Howdidyoupickthelock?”
“Ididn’t.Ihitthemechanismwithachisel.”
“Wheredidyoulearnhowtodothat?”
“Google.”
Theygoinsideanduponthefirstfloortheygrabamattressandbeddingfromthesparebedroom.Theymanhandleitdowntothebasement.Rachelhasalreadybroughtovertheboardtocoverthewindow.“We’llputitupwithMarty’soldelectricdrill.Ithinkthatwillmakelessnoisethanahammer,”Petesays.
TheyputuptheboardandtrytomakethebasementaspleasantaspossiblewithsheetsandblanketsandafewtoysandgamesRachelbroughtoverearlier.It’sdevastatingtothinkthatifthisactuallyworksandtheydon’tgetkilledorarrested,ascaredlittleboywillbedownheresoon.Rachelhasattachedaheavychaintoaconcretepillarnearthemattress,andthissendsashiverdownPete’sspine.
TheyclosethebackdooroftheAppenzellers’andreturntoRachel’shouse.
“Nowwhat?”Petewonders.
“Searchmyhouseforbugs.Ihatetheideathatthey’rewatchingeverythingIdo.”
Petenods.“Icandothat.”
Hetakesthewirelessdetectoroutofhisbag.Intheolddaysofanalog-buggingequipment,youneededaradioreceiverandcomplexequipment,butnowafifty-buckwirelessdetectorcandothejob.Hegoesthroughthehouseandthenhegetstoworkonthephoneandthecomputer.
“It’slargelyanegative,”hesaysatlast.“Ididathoroughscanoftheentirehousefromtoptobottom.IlookedinthebasementandIevenlookedinthecrawlspaceabovethekitchen.”
“Didyousaylargelynegative?”
“Idid.Youdon’thaveanybugsinthehouse.However,asIsuspected,yourMachasbeencompletelycompromised.”
“How?”
“There’saspywarebotonyourMacthat,whenconnectedtothewirelessnetwork,slavesthecameraandalsoshowsalivescreenshotofwhateverisonyourhomescreen.Itwasfairlyeasytocaptureyourpasswordsafterthat.Thebothasarandomlygeneratednamethatdoesn’tmeananything.Itsdestinationisalsoencrypted.”
“Howdoyouknowhowtodoallthis?”Rachelasks,impressed.
“Well,youknowme,I’vebeentinkeringwithcomputerssincetheStoneAgedaysoftheinternet.Tryingtogetbackintoitmoreseriously.Privatesecurityisabiggrowthsectorforformerservicemen.”
“Canyouremovethebotthing?”
“That’safairlyeasytask.ButifIdo,itsabsencewillbenoticedimmediately.”
“Whoeveritisthat’shackingmewillknowthatI’montothem?”
“Exactly.Andiftheyknowthatyou’reontothem,theywillundoubtedlydeployfurthercountermeasures.Justdon’tuseyourMacandphoneuntilKylieisback.ThenI’llkillthebotandwipeyourmachines.”
“They’regoingtobecallingmeonmyiPhone.Ineedit.”
“Justbeaware,then,thatthey’llbelisteninginonyou,andyourphone,ofcourse,isalsoaGPStransmitter.”
“Couldtheybephysicallywatchingthehouse?”Rachelasks.
“Theycould,”Petesays.“Theycouldbewatchingusrightnow.Myguessisthey’renot.”
Rachelshudders.“IkeepseeingKylieinthatbasement.Shemustbeterrified.”
“She’saresilientkid.She’satoughlittlecookie.”Maybetootough,Petethinks.Ihopeshedoesn’ttryanythingstupid.
22
Friday,1:11a.m.
Kyliewaitsuntilshethinksit’sverylate,butnaturallyshehasnowayoftellingthetime.NoiPhone,noiPad,noMac.Nowatch,ofcourse,butwhowearsawatchthesedays?
Assheliesonthemattress,shecanheartrafficonadistantroad,andshecanoccasionallyhearplaneschangethethrustoftheirenginesastheydescendtowardLogan.VerydistantplanesgoingtoaverydistantLoganAirport.
Shesitsonthemattresswithherbacktotheeyeofthecameraandnibblesatagrahamcracker.Herfirstplanhasfailed.Thetoothpastetubecannotbeusedtoopenthehandcuffs.Shetriedforhours,butitwasatotalbust.Hersecondplan,however,mightworkalittlebetter.
Justafterdark,themanhadbroughtherahotdogandaglassofmilk.Hesetthetrayonthefloornexttoher.Thegunwasinapocketinhissweatshirt.Thewomanhadcomedowntotakethetrayawaywiththeguninherrighthand.They’realwaysarmed.She’sathirteen-year-oldchainedtoatwo-hundred-poundstovebuttheyaren’ttakinganychances.Theyalwayscomedownherewithagun.
Andthat,Kylierealized,waswhatwasgoingtohelpher.
Shehadspotteditearlierthisafternoon.Asthesunmovedslowlyacrossthesky,shehadseenaglintinacornerofthebasement.Movingascloseasshecould,shesawthattheglintwasawrenchjustbarelyvisibleagainstthewallundertheboiler.Awrenchthathadbeendroppedthereandforgottenabout,maybeyearsearlier.Theyhadobviouslypreppedthisbasement,buttoseethewrenchyou’dhavetobelyingonthefloorlookingdirectlyattheboilerasthesunstreamedthroughthewindowintheafternoon.
Thewrenchisthekey.
Shewaits.Andwaits.
Inwhatare,perhaps,theweehours,thetrafficseemstoslowontheroadandtheplanesgrowlessfrequent.
Shekeepsthinkingaboutthatstatetrooper.Hadtheykilledhim?Theymusthavekilledhim.Thatmeanssheisbeingheldbytwomurderers.Theydon’tseemlikemurderers,buttheyare.Shetriestofighttheterrorofthatthoughtbutwherevershegoesinhermind,it’slurkingthere…
Shethinksabouthermom.
Hermomwillbeworriedsick.She’llgotopieces.Sheisn’tasstrongasshepretendstobe.Ithasn’tevenbeenayearsinceshefinishedherchemo.Andherdad—herdad’sawesomebutmaybenotthemostdependableguyintheworld.
Shelooksatthecamerabythestairsagain.Howlateisitnow?Willtheysleepatalltonight?Theyhavetogetsomesleep.
Stillshewaits.
It’smaybetwointhemorningnow.OK,heregoes,shethinks.
Shestands,takestheslackoutofthechain,andwithallhermightbeginstuggingatthestove.It’senormouslyheavy,ofcourse,butthefloorissmoothconcretewithoutmuchfriction.Earlier,shepouredwaterunderthestove’scast-ironfeetandslosheditaround,hopingthatmighthelptoo.
Shepullsatthechainwitheverythingshehas,leaningbacklikeatug-of-warcompetitor.She’ssweatingandhermusclesacheandit’sseeminglyimpossibleforalittlegirlto—
Theovenjolts.Herfeetgivewayandshefallstothefloor,landingonhertailbonewithathwack
Shebitesherlipandhastostopherselffromyelling.
Sherollsaroundontheground.Damn,damn,damn.
Thepainstartstosubsideandsheexaminesherselfasbestshecan.Nothingseemsbroken.Shehasneverbrokenabonebefore,butsheimaginesthepainwouldbealotworsethanthis.WhenStuartbrokehiswristice-skatingonthefrozenpondatNewburyCommon,hehadhowledandhowled.
Butthenagain,that’sStuart.
Shestandsupandshakesthepainoutofherlimbs.Painisweaknessleavingthebody,hercrazyunclePetehadoncesaid.SoI’mwaystrongernow,shetellsherself,butshedoesn’treallybelieveit.
Shegrabsholdofthechainandpullshard,andagaintheovenjolts,andthistimeitkeepsmovingeversoslowlyasshekeepspulling.Itis,sheremembersfromscienceclass,allaboutfrictionandmomentum.Theovenishugebutthewetfloorissmooth.
It’sheavy,soveryheavy,butit’smoving.Thenoiseisugly,ahigh-pitchedscreechingandscrapingthatis,hopefully,notquiteloudenoughtobeheardoutsidethebasement,nevermindinthehouse.
Shesweatsandpullsfortwominutesandthenstops,utterlyexhausted.Shesitsdownontheedgeofhermattressandbreatheshard.
Self-consciously,shelooksbackatthecamera,butthatisn’tgoingtotellheranything.There’snolightaboveitshowingwhenit’son.Youhavetoassumethatit’salwayson.
Shecrawlstowardthewrenchundertheboiler.ThechainonherleftwristtightensandwhenshestretchesherselflikeMisterFantastic,sheisaboutthreefeetaway.Sheclimbsbackintothesleepingbaganddoessomecalculating.Shecanmaybemovetheovenanotherfoottonight.Itwillprobablytakeanotherfullnighttogetthewrench,butgetitshewill.
She’selated.Shehasaplan,andnowshehasawaytoimplementit.Itmightgetherkilled.Butdoingnothingmightgetherkilledtoo.
23
Friday,4:20a.m.
PoseidonStreetisalittlebitoutsideBeverlyTownCenterandclosetothewater.It’satypicalNewEnglandtree-linedsuburbanroad,aneighborhoodofsmalltwo-storycolonialswithtinywindowsandsteeproofssittinguneasilybesidenewerhouseswithlargerfootprintsandbiggerwindows.Number14PoseidonStreet,wheretheDunleavyfamilylives,isoneofthenewerhomes,athree-floorfaux-Georgianoak-framejobpaintedaretromustardybrown.Inthefrontyard,there’sabeautifulredmapletreetowhichaswinghasbeenattached.Intheambientstreetlight,youcanseechildren’stoys,afootball,andacatcher’smittlyingonthegrass.
RachelandPetehaveparkedonthefarsideofthestreetintheshadowofabigdroopingwillowtreethatstillhassomeofitsleaves.
Theycan’thelplookingslightlysuspicious.Fortunately,althoughthisisn’tthekindofneighborhoodwherepeoplesleepintheircars,itisthekindofneighborhoodwherepeoplepretendnottoseesomeonehalfasleepinacaratfourinthemorning.
PeteislookingattheDunleavys’socialmediaactivityonhislaptop.“Nobody’sawakeyet,”hesays.
“Mikewillbeupinaboutanhour,thenHelen,thenthekids.Mikesometimescatchesthesixo’clocktraintoSouthStation,sometimesthesixthirty,”Racheltellshim.
“Heshoulddrive,there’snotrafficatthishour,”Petesays.“Hey,youknowwhatwehavetowatchoutfor?”
“What?”
“GPStagsintheshoes.AlotofhelicopterparentsputGPStagsintheirkids’backpacksandshoes.Thatwayiftheygomissing,theparentscanfindthemwithanappinafewseconds.”
“Isthatforreal?”Rachelsays,aghast.
“Ohyeah,grabakidwithoneofthoselittlebuggers,andtheFBIwillbeupourassbeforeweknowwhathitus.”
“Howdowestopthat?”
“Icanscanthekidtoseeifhe’stransmitting.AndthentosshisiPhoneandGPSshoes,andweshouldbeOK.”
“Helenseemsthetypetobragaboutusingthatsystemtofindherkids,butshehasn’tmentionedit,”Rachelsays,surprisingherselfwiththebitternessofthisobservation.SheremembersthatTacituslineabouthowyoualwayshatethoseyouhavewronged.Orthoseyouareabouttowronginthiscase.
“Maybeyou’reright,”Petesays.“Butwe’llchecktheshoesanyway.”
Theywatchthehouseandsipcoffeeandwait.
Nolifeatallonthestreet.Thedaysofthemilkmanarelongover.Thefirstdog-walkerdoesn’tappearuntil5:30a.m.
TheearliestindicationthatanybodyisupintheDunleavyhousecomesat6:01a.m.,whenMikeretweetsatweetfromTomBrady.ThenHelenwakesandbeginsFacebooking.SheLikesadozenpostsfromherfriendsandsharesavideoaboutwomensoldiersfightingIsisinSyria.HelenisamoderateDemocrat.HerhusbandseemstobeamoderateRepublican.Theycareabouttheworld,theenvironment,andtheirkids.Theyareharmless,andincompletelydifferentcircumstances,Rachelcouldimaginebeingtheirfriend.
Thekidsarelovelytoo.Notspoiled,notbratty,justgreatlittlekids.
“Lookatthis,”Petesays.“HelenhasjustInstagrammedapictureoftheSeafarerRestaurantonWebbStreetinSalem.”
“It’sonFacebooknowtoo,”Rachelsays.
“Shesaysshe’shavingbreakfasttherewithherfriendDebbie.HowfarisSalemfromhere?”
“Notthatfar.Fiveminutes,maybetenifthere’straffic.”
“Notideal.Butabreakfastwithanoldfriendhasgottatakeaminimumofforty-fiveminutes,right?”
Rachelshakesherhead.“Idon’tknow.Ifit’sonlycoffeeandmuffins,itcouldbeless.Butthenagain,they’dgotoStarbucksiftheywerejustgettingcoffeeandmuffins.Why,whatareyouthinking?”
“I’mthinkingthatonceMike’sgoneandthekidsaresafelyatschoolandHelenissafelyatherbreakfast,thehousewillbeempty.”
“Andthenwhat?”
“Igointhebackdoor.Scouttheplace.Maybeuploadalittlespywarebugofourownontothefamilydesktop.”
“Youcandothat?”
“Ohyes.”
“How?”
“TheB-and-Estuffisprettyeasy,asyoufoundoutattheAppenzellers’.ThebuggingtechIlearnedfrommybuddyStanwhenIworkedforhimaftertheCorps.”
Rachelshakesherhead.“Idon’tknow.”
“Givesusanadvantage.We’llknowwhatthey’rethinking.Theshit’sgoingtogetrealwhenwetakeToby.”
“Isitsafe?”
“Isanythingwe’redoingsafe?”
MikeDunleavyfinallyleavesforworkat7:15.HedriveshimselftotheBeverlytrainstationandleaveshisBMWinthelot.Helengetsherkidsoutsideat8:01.It’snotreallycoldenoughforwintercoatsbutHelenhasbundledthemupanyway.Rachelthinkstheylookadorableintheiroversizeparkasandtheirhatsandscarves.
“Doyouwanttofollowthem?”Peteasks.
Rachelshakesherhead.“Nopoint.Helenwillletusknowwhenshedropsthemoffatschoolandgetstotherestaurant.”
TheysitintheVolvoandwait,and,sureenough,at8:15,HelenFacebooksaselfietakeninsidetheSeafarer.
Petescansthestreet.Acollege-agekidisshootinghoopsdowntheblock,andacrossthestreet,alittlegirlcomesoutofherhouseandstartsjumpingupanddownonanenclosedtrampoline.“Lookoverthere—frontdoor’sclosed,kid’sonthattrampolinebyherself.She’dbeperfect,”Petesays.
“Yes,”Rachelagrees.“Butthat’snottheplan.”
“No?OK,I’mgoingin.”
Rachelgrabshishand.“Areyousureaboutthis,Pete?”
“Weneedalltheinformationwecangetaboutthesepeople.Inaraid,yougatheralltheintelyoucanfordays,sometimesweeks,beforeyoumove.Butwedon’thavedaysorweeks,sowegottagetasmuchinfoasquicklyaspossible.”
Rachelcanseethesenseofthat.
“WhichiswhyI’mgoinginnowwhilethehouseis,presumably,empty.IfcrazyoldUncleKevin’sintherewithashotgun,IguessI’mscrewed.IfI’mnotbackinfifteenminutesorso,youshouldgo.”
“Whatareyouactuallygoingtodo?”
“WhateverIcaninfifteenminutes.”
“OK,sothatwouldbeeightthirty.”
“Yeah.”
“Whatdoesitmeanifyou’renotbackbyeightthirty?”
“ItmeansI’mcompromisedsomehow.Iwon’ttalk,ofcourse,butyoushouldmoveontotargetBor,betteryet,makeacompletelynewtargetlistthatIdon’tknowanythingabout.”
“I’llcallyouifthere’stroubleinthestreet.”
“OK,butifthingsarelookinghairy,justgetoutofhere.”
Peteputshisbackpackoverhisshoulder,checkstoseethatnooneislooking,andrunstothefencebetweentheDunleavyhouseandalittlepatchofwoodsandwichedbetweenthebeachandtheroad.RachelseeshimclimboverthefenceintotheDunleavys’backyard.
ShelistensforthesoundofscreamingorcrazyUncleKevinfiringhisshotgun,butthere’snothinglikethat.
Intherearview,shewatchesthelittlegirlacrossthestreetplayonhertrampoline.Theredoesn’tseemtobeanyonesupervisingher.Thefrontdoorofherhouseisfirmlyclosed.Itwould,infact,beeasytowalkoverthereandtakethechild.
JesusChrist,whothinksthingslikethis?Whatthehellhaveyoubecome,Rachel?
Sheturnsonherphoneandlooksatthetime:8:22.
ShecloseshereyesandthinksaboutKylie.Hasshebeenabletosleep?KnowingKylie,shewasprobablythinkingabouthermomanddadthewholenight,worryingaboutthem.
OhGod,Kylie,I’mcomingforyou.I’llgetyouback.Neverletyououtofmysight.Beabettermom.Keepyousafe.Killsocialmedia.Trustnobody.Fulltinfoilhat.
Shelooksatthephoneagain:8:23.
Awhitevandrivesslowlyalongthestreet,thekindofbeat-upwhitevanthat’salwaysuptonodamngood.Thedriver,however,paysnoattentiontoher,andthevankeepsgoing.
SherummagesinhercoatpocketforMarty’scigarettes,butshecan’tfindthem.Adogisbarkinglikecrazysomewhere.
Barkingwhere?TheDunleavysdonothaveadog.Rachelwouldknow.
Maybetheirneighbors?MaybeadognextdoorsawPetegointothehouseandrecognizedhimasastranger?
Thephonereads8:28.
Sheputsontheradio.It’soneofthoseendlessrerunsofCarTalk.OneofthetwobrothersisrantingabouttheVWmicrobus.
Nowit’s8:31.
Where’sPete?
Thedogisbarkingloudernow.
Thelittlegirlgetsoffthetrampoline,picksupwhatseemstobeacanofsoda,andgetsbackonthetrampoline.
Notagoodidea,sweetie.Notinyournicedress,Rachelthinks.
It’s8:34.
Ablack-and-whitefromtheBeverlyPoliceDepartmentappearsinherrearviewmirror.“Ohno,”Rachelmutters.SheturnsthekeyintheVolvo’signitionandthereliableoldengineroarstolife.
Thepolicecarstartsdrivingslowlydownthestreet.Therearetwoofficersinside.They’recomingrighttowardher.
Andnowit’s8:37.
Thedog’sbarkinggetslouderstill.
Thepolicecargetscloser.
SheslipstheVolvointofirstgear,herleftfootontheclutch,herrightreadyonthegas.
Thelittlegirlonthetrampolinedoestheinevitableandmanagestoupendthesodaalloverherself.Shestartsscreaming.Thetwocopsturntolookather.
PeteappearsontopoftheDunleavys’fence.Hedropsdowntothelittlepatchofwoods,runstotheVolvo,andgetsinthebackseat,pantingheavily.“Go!”hesays.
“EverythingOK?”Rachelasks,alarmed.
“Yeah.Fine.Go!”
Rachelletstheclutchoutanddrivesaway.SheheadseasttowardManchesterandthennorthtoIpswichandRoute1A.Thecopsarenotfollowingher.Peteisintheback,fiddlingwithhisphone.
“Iseverythingallright?”sheasksagain.
“Yes,fine.”
“Whathappenedinthere?”
“Nothing.Itwasabreeze.Thebackwindowwasopen,soIwasinintwoseconds.IfoundadesktopPCinadownstairsstudythatwasstillon.Iloadedawormonthat.Icouldn’tfindthehomephone,soIcouldn’tloadabugthere,unfortunately.Lotofpeopledon’thavealandlineanymore.Butassoonastheyfireupthedesktop,I’llbeabletoreadtheire-mail,Skype,FaceTime,andiMessagepasswords.”
“Holycrap,”Rachelsays,impressed.
“Yeah,”Petereplies.
“YourbuddyStantaughtyouallofthat?”
“Mostofit.Ialwayshadabitofanoutlawmind-set.”
“Yes,MartytoldmeaboutyoustealingacaranddrivingtoCanadawhenyouwereeleven.”
“Nah,Ididn’tmakeittoCanada.AndIwastwelve,”Petesayswithfalsemodesty.
“Youwentpastthefifteen-minutetimelimitinthere.”
“Iknow.IfoundToby’sroom.Ididalittleinvestigating.Normalkid.NohealthissuesthatIcansee.LikestheRedSox,theX-Men,andaTVshowcalledStrangerThings.Totallynormalkid.”
“Sohe’lldo?”Rachelasksmiserably.
“Yeah,he’lldo.”
TheydriveoverthebridgeandontoPlumIsland.
Rachelyawnswhentheyarriveatthehouse.
“Whenwasthelasttimeyouslept?”Peteasksherwithconcern.
Shebrushesoffthequestion.“I’llmakesomemorecoffee.We’vegotworktodo.”
RachelgoesupstairstogetthewhiteboardfromKylie’sroom.Sheopensthedoor,halfexpectingKylietobehidinginthere,forthistobesomecruel,crazyprank.
It’sempty,buttheroomsmellsofherlittlegirl.ThatcheapForever21perfumesheloves.Theseashellcollection,theclothesoverflowingthelaundrybin,thebooksonastronomyandEgypt.Aboxthatholdseverybirthdaycardshe’severgotten.ThepostersofBrockhamptonandtheKeiraKnightleyversionofPrideandPrejudice.Herneatlyarrangedhomeworkbinders.Herphotomontageoffriendsandfamily.
Rachelfeelsherselfbegintosway.Shegrabsthewhiteboardandstepsintothehallandgentlyclosesthedoor.
DownstairstheyplotlittleToby’slifeonaflowchart.HehasarcherytonightandSundaynight.Archeryfinishesatsevenandhewalkshome.That’sthewindowofopportunity.“ThearcheryclubmeetsatsomethingcalledtheOldCustomsHallnearthewaterinBeverly.It’salittlelessthanaone-klickwalkfromtheretotheDunleavys’house,”Petesays,lookingatGoogleMaps.
“What’saklick?”
“Sorry—onekilometer.I’vebeenovertherouteonGooglestreetviewafewtimesnow.HewalksfromtheOldCustomsHallupRevenueStreet,thenheturnsleftonStandoreStreet,rightonPoseidonStreet,andhe’sathishouse.Itshouldtakehimnomorethansevenoreightminutes.Maybetenatthemost.”
It’saprettytightscheduleandtheyknowit.
“Wehavetohithimbetweenseveno’clockandseventen.Infact,ifthisisgoingtowork,wehavetogethimwhenhe’sonStandoreStreet,sincetherewillbetoomanypeoplemillingaboutonRevenueStreetandwecan’tgrabhimrightinfrontofhishouseonPoseidonbecausehismommightbewaitingforhim,”Rachelsays.
Peterubshischin.It’saverynarrowwindowindeed,bothtemporallyandgeographically,buthedoesn’tbringthatup.Thisisthekidtheyhavedonetheplanningfor.Rachelstiflesayawn.“Whydon’tyoutakeanapandI’lldrivedownthereagainandchecktheentireroutethistime,”Petesuggests.
“Nonapnecessary.Let’sgo.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
Theygooutside,getintheVolvo,andreachBeverlyinamerefifteenminutes.ThetownismaybealittletooclosetoRachel’stownforcomfort,butthatcan’tbehelped.
It’sbusiernow.Thereare,Rachelthinks,aworryingnumberofassholeswalkingtheirdogsoroutforastroll.Assholes,becausewhyshouldtheybesounconcernedandhappywhentheskyisfalling?Hasfallen.TheOldCustomsHallisnearthewater,andthistooisapopulardog-walkingandhangoutlocale.
“Updatedweatherforecast,”Petesays,lookingathislaptop.“Drizzletonight,notrain.Hopefullythat’llbeenoughmoisturetodetercasualfoottrafficbutnotsomuchthathismomcomestopickhimup.”
“WhenIgetKylieback,I’mnotlettingherwalkanywherebyherselfuntilshe’sfifty,”Rachelmutters,knowingthisisapitifulhorse/barn-doorstatement
TheydrivefromtheOldCustomsHallalongRevenueStreetandStandoreStreetandupPoseidonStreet,aboutathree-minuterunthroughunremarkablesuburbanNewEngland.StandoreStreetislinedwithbigold-growthoaktreesthatstillhaveleaves.“Excellentcover,”Petenotes.
Theyturnandheadbacktothecenteroftown.
“Allright,thisistheplan,”Rachelannounces.“One,wedrivetotheOldCustomsHall.Two,wewaitforthekidstocomeout.Three,wefollowTobyhomealongRevenueandStandoreStreets.Please,God,letTobybebyhimself.Four,wepullupthecarnexttohim.Five,wegrabhimandthrowhiminside.Six,wedriveoff.”
“Doyouwantmetograbhim?”
Shenods.“AndI’lldrive.”
“OK,then.”
Shelooksathim.“Therearesomanythingsthatcangowrong,Pete.I’mgladyou’rewithme.”
PetethinksbacktothatnightatCampBastioninSeptemberof2012wheneverythingwentwrong.Hebiteshislip.“Yeah,it’llbefine,Rach,”hesays.
“Butevenifitallgoesright,”shereplieswretchedly,“it’llstillbeabsolutelyterrible.”
24
Friday,11:39a.m.
Kyliewakesupinasleepingbag.Where—
Withagaspofhorrorsherememberswheresheisandwhathashappened.She’sinabasementsomewherenorthofNewburyportwheretwopeople,ahusbandandwife,arekeepingheruntilhermotherpaysaransom.Kylie’sthroatconstricts.Shesitsupinthesleepingbagandhyperventilates.Theairdownhereismustyandthick.
Shepullsitintoherlungsneverthelessandforcesherselftocalmthehelldown.They’regoingtokillme,they’regoingtokillme,they…no.They’renot.They’renotpsychopaths.Theyaren’tgoingtoharmmeifMomdoeswhattheywant.Whathappenedwiththestatetrooperwasanaccident.
Andshe’snotdeadyet.
She’sbeenworkingonaplan.Thewrench…yes!
Judgingfromthesun,sheprobablysleptlate.Amazingthatshesleptatall.Sheneedstopeerealbadnow.Sheturnsherbacktothecamera,grabsthepeebucket,andusesthescrunched-upsleepingbagasashield.
Afewminuteslaterthedooropens,andshecanseethemanatthetopofthestairs.Beyondhimareayardandatree.Heleavesthedooropenashecomesdownstairsholdingatray.He’swearingpajamasandhehashisskimaskon.Shecanhearhimbreathingheavily,asifcomingdownthestairshasbeenabitofaneffort.
“Goodmorning,”hesays.“Ifitisstillmorning.Itis,Ithink.Ibroughtyou,a,um,latebreakfast.Cheerios.YoulikeCheerios,yeah?”
“Sure.”
Hewalksacrossthebasementfloorandsetsthetraydownnexttoher.AbowlofCheeriosandmilk,aglassoforangejuice,anotherbottleofwater.Thegunhandleispokingoutofhispajamapantspocket.
“Apologiesaboutthehour.Wedidn’tgettobeduntilverylatelastnight.Weweren’t,um,expectingthingsyesterdaytogoso…youmustbehungry.Didyougetanysleep?”heasks.
Sheshakesherheadnoncommittally.
“It’snotsurprising,”hereplies.“Thisisacrazysetofcircumstances.Neverinmywildestdreams…”
“Whyareyoudoingit?”Kylieasks.
Hetakesadeepbreath.“Becausethey’vegotourboy,”hesayssoftlyandshakeshishead.“Didyougetachancetolookatthebooks?”
Kylieseesalittleopeninghere.“Yes.I’dneverreadMobyDickbefore.Ialwaysthoughtitwouldbeboring.”
“Butyoulikedit?”themanasksexcitedly.
“Yes.WhatIreadofit.”
“Oh,that’swonderful.Aclassic.Boringatfirst,maybe,forsomeoneofyourgeneration.Butonceyouletyourmindgetintothatwayofthinking,itjustsortofflowsalong.”
“Yeah,you’reright.Ilikedthetattooedguy.”
“Queequeg?Isn’thewonderful!MelvillelivedwiththeSouthPacificIslandersfornearlyayear,andhisportrayalofthemisquiteaffectionate,don’tyouthink?”
Kyliedesperatelytriestocomeupwithsomethingtosay,somethingthatwouldhaveimpressedherEnglishteacherifshewasputonthespotinclassaboutabookshehadn’tread.
“Yeah,andthewholebook—it’sallabigmetaphor,isn’tit?”shesays.
“Ofcourseitis.Yes!Verygood.You’re—”
“Justleavethetrayandcomebackup!”avoicesaysfromthetopofthestairs.
“Ibettergo,”themanwhispers.“Eatupandrelaxandpleasedon’ttryanything.I’veneverseenherlikethis.”
“Comeon!”thewomanscreams,andthemangoesupthestairsandlocksthedoorbehindhim,leavingKyliealoneagain.
Thistimetoohecamedownwiththegun.
Thegunisthekeytothewholething.
25
Friday,3:13p.m.
Herphonechimes.ShesetanalerttoletherknowwhenthelatestbatchofransommoneyclearedtheBitcoinsystemandlandedintheirSwissbankaccount.SometimesVisaorMasterCardor,especially,AmExblocksthecharge,butapparentlynowithasbeenpaidinfull.
Herbrothermocksherforthiskindofmicromanaging.WhensheletshimrunTheChain,heclaimshedoesalmostnothing.Hesaysheprettymuchletsthewholethingself-police.Butshe’smorehands-on.It’sherbaby.
Shelooksatherphone.Yup,twenty-fivethousanduntraceabledollarshavecomethroughtheBitcoinlaundry.
That’sgoodinoneway,butwhentheycameupwiththemoneythisquickly,itmeantthattheycouldhavepaidalotmore.Thisishermistake.Shesettheransomamount.ShelookedatRachel’sbankaccountandincomeandthoughttwenty-fivethousandwouldbepushingit.Imean,comeon,shewasworkingasanUberdriveruntilafewweeksagoandthere’snofamilymoney.
Thephilosophyisn’ttosoakpeopleforalltheyhavebuttokeepthesumsmanageable.It’snotaboutthemoney,blah-blah-blah.
Still…
ShemirrorsRachel’scomputeronherphone,butRachelhasn’tturnedontheMacsincelastnight.She’sevidentlyusingadifferentcomputernow.ThisisahintthatRachelisn’tatotalidiot.
ShelooksoutthewindowattherainfallingpointlesslyintoBostonHarbor.IsRacheltryingtooutsmarther?Thatwouldbeaterriblemistakeforhertomake.
SheopenstheWickrappandsendsRachelamessage:Areyoureadytoproceedwithyourtarget,TobyDunleavy?
There’safive-minutepausebeforeRachelreplies:Yes.We’redoingittonightifwecanandSundaynightiftonightdoesn’twork.
Whynottomorrownight?Ortomorrowmorning?shetypes.
Theboytakesarcherylessonsandwalkshomefromthere.ArcheryistonightandSundaynight,Rachelreplies.
Shedoesn’tlikeRachel’stone.Itisn’tscaredenough.Itisn’thumbleenough.Racheldoesn’trealizethatshe’sthegammabitchtalkingtothealpha.
Icanexterminateyou,Rachel,shethinks.Justsnapmyfingersandyou’redeadasaDStreetcrackwhore.
MessagemeonWickrassoonasyougettheboy,shetexts.AndIwillmakethefirstcalltothefamily.Youwillcallthemfiveminuteslater.Thefirstthingyouwillsayis“Youmustrememberthatyouarenotthefirstorthelast.Itisnotaboutthemoney,it’saboutTheChain.”Doyouunderstand?
Yes,Racheltexts.
Again,itseemscurtandconfident.Shedoesnotlikethat.
Sheclosesthemessagethreadandthinksthingsoverforafewminutes.
Ollyisalwaystellinghernottoletthingsgetintotherealmofthepersonal.Likehe’solderandwiser.Yes,olderbyfifteenminutes.Itistruethatthereisnoneedtodoanyofthishastily.Itisn’taboutspeed.Allthatmattersisthatitkeepsgoing.
AccordingtoOlly’smodeling,themorepeoplethatareaddedtoTheChain,themorelikelyitisthattherewillbeamajordefection.That’swhyfearissoimportant.That’sthewholementalcomponent.
Humanbeingsarecreatureswhoselivesaregovernedbydeepinstincts.Theyarelikemice,thesepeople,miceinthehayfields,andshe’stheperegrineswoopingoverthem,seeingeverylittlethingtheydo.
ShethinksaboutNoahLippman.She’dbeenseriousaboutNoah,buthehadbrokenupwithherandmovedtoNewMexicowithanewgirlfriend.TheChain,however,hadsomehowstretcheditstentacleswayouttheretothehighdesert.InTaos,hislifehadtakenseveraldisastrousturns.Hisgirlfriendhadbeenkilledinahit-and-run,hehadbeenfiredfromhishospitaljob,andhehadbeenmuggedandbadlybeaten,andnowhe’sapoorlypaidandoverworkednurseinaSantaFehospice.GrayhairsNoahhasnow,andhe’swalkedwithalimpsincehisassault.
TheChaindidn’talwayshavetobeabadthing,shesupposes.Sometimesithelpedpeople.Helpedpeoplefocusonwhatwasreallyimportant.Andinaway,she’sdoingthesemiceinthehayfieldafavor.Imean,shethinks,nowyouknowwhatyourpurposeis,don’tyou,Rachel?NowyouknowwhatyouhavetodoifyouwanttoseesweetlittleKylieagain.Thatblindpanicthatyou’refeeling?Thatadrenalinerush?Thatcalltoaction?TheChaingaveyouthat.TheChainhassetyoufree.
Sheclosesthelaptop.
Don’tinterfere,Ollysays,leaveitalone.
Butsometimesonecanhavealittlefun.
SheclicksontheWickrappagainandmessagesHeatherPorter:TheransomforRacheltopayhasdoubledtofiftythousanddollars.Thebalancemustbepaidtoday.Informherimmediately.Furthermore,shemustcompletepart2oftheprocesstoday.Ifshedoesn’tpaythenewransomandcompleteherkidnappingbymidnight,youmustkillKylieO’Neillandsearchforanewtarget.
Yes,thatwillfixthings,shethinkswithsomemeasureofsatisfaction.
26
Friday,3:57p.m.
Rachelstandsundertheshower.Shescaldsherselfandfreezesherself,butthewaterdoesn’thelp—she’sstillinsidethebaddream.Otherpeoplelosetheirkids,peoplewhodon’tpaycloseenoughattention.Peoplewholetthirteen-year-oldswalkhomefromlonelybusstopsinMississippiorAlabama.Thiskindofthingdoesn’ttakeplaceinurbane,civilized,safenorthernMassachusetts.
Shestepsoutontothechillybathroomfloorandshakesherhead.That’sthesortofcomplacencyandsnobberythatallowedthemtokidnapherdaughterinthefirstplace.Herheadislight.Herleftbreasthurts.She’sutterlyunmoored.Sheimaginesherfaceagaininthenonexistentbathroommirror.Thatgaunt,hollow,ugly,un–JenniferConnellystupidface.Gettingridofthemirrors—whatajokethatwas.Justhidingthetruth.Allthosesmashedmirrorsinthetowndump.Allthatbadluckcirclingbacktoher.
Camussaid,“Inthedepthsofwinter,Ifinallylearnedthatwithinmetherelayaninvinciblesummer.”
Whatbullshit.
Allshefeelsispainandfearandmisery.Fearaboveall.And,yes,thisisthedepthofwinter,allright.ThisisthemiddleoftheIceAgeatthesunlessNorthPole.MydaughterhasbeenkidnappedandtogetherbackI’mgoingtohavetograbasweetlittleboyoffthestreetandthreatenhimandthreatenhisfamilyandmeanit.MeanitwhenIsayI’mgoingtokillhim,becauseifIdon’tI’llneverseeKylieagain.
ShepullsonaT-shirt,herredsweater,andjeansandwalksintothelivingroom.
Petelooksupfromhiscomputer.
Hecan’tknowaboutthetormentwithinher.Hecan’tknowaboutthefearandthedoubts.Hedoesn’twanttodoit.He’sagoodman.Aveteran.SheneedstoLadyMacbethit.“Right,sowe’reallset,then,”shesayscoldly.
Petenods.HehasjustcomebackfromtheAppenzellers’.
“Howdoesthehouselook?”sheasks.
“Perfect.Super-quietdowninthebasement.Abuckettopeein.Igotthekidsomecomicbookssohewon’tgetbored.Fewstuffedanimalsandgamesaswell.Somecandy.”
“Latestweather?”
“Stilldrizzle.Notheavyrain.”
“Whatisthefamilydoingrightnow?”Rachelasks.
“Mike’sstillatwork.Restofthefamilyishome.HelenDunleavyiscurrentlywritingalengthyFacebookpostaboutthefigtreeinherbackyard.Oh,andTobydefinitelydoesnothavethepeanutallergy.”
“Good.Iwasonaplaneoncewithawomanwhowasallergictopeanuts,andshehadameltdownjustfromthesmellofsomeone’speanut-buttersandwich.Nightmare,”shesaysandletsoutahugesigh.“Thankyouforcoming,Pete.You’rearock.Icouldn’tgetthroughthiswithoutyou.”
Petelooksatherandswallows.Hismouthopensandcloses.Hehastwothingstotellher.HehastotellherabouttheheroinandhehastotellherabouttheCampBastionincident.He’snotarock.He’sunreliable.He’safailure.Hewouldhavebeencourt-martialedifhehadn’tresignedfirst.“There’ssomethingyoushouldknow…”hebegins.
Rachel’siPhonerings:UnknownCaller
SheanswersitonspeakersoPetecanhear.“Yes?”shesays.
“There’sbeenachangeofplan,”thewomanholdingKyliesays.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Youarerequiredtodepositanadditionaltwenty-fivethousanddollarsintotheInfinityProjectsaccount.”
“Wealreadypaidtheransom.It’s—”
“It’sbeenchanged.Sometimestheychangethings.Youneedtopayanothertwenty-fivethousand.Furthermore,youneedtocompleteparttwooftheprocesstoday.Doyouunderstand?Ifyoudon’tdothesethingstoday,I’msupposedtokillKylie.”
“No,please!I’vedoneeverythingyou’vesaid.I’mcooperating!”
“Iknowyouare.Theyjustmessagedme.Wehavetodowhattheysay,Rachel.Anothertwenty-fivethousandbymidnightandparttwodonebymidnight.Ifyoudon’tdoit,IhavetokillKylie.AndifIdon’tdothat,they’llkillmyson,soIhavetodoit.”
“No,that’scrazy.We’recooperating,we’redoing—”
“DoyouunderstandwhatI’vetoldyou,Rachel?”
“Yes,I—”
Thelinegoesdead.
Anothertwenty-fivethousandtoday?How?
“Carcoming!”Petesays,lookingthroughtheliving-roomwindow.
“It’scominghere?”
“It’scominghere,”Petesays.“Twooccupants.Amanandawoman.Parkingnexttomytruck.WhatdoesMartydrivenow?”
Rachelsprintstothekitchenwindow.ThecarisawhiteMercedes;themaninthedriver’sseatisMarty,andshe’ssurethatthewomannexttohimisTammy.Rachel’smetTammyonlyonce,atoneoftheKyliehandovers,butTammyisaleggyblondewithacutebobhaircutandMarty’spassengercertainlyhasthehaircut.
“ItisMarty!”
Peterunstothekitchenwindow.“Jesus,you’reright.Whatishedoinghere?IthoughtyousaidhewasinGeorgia.”
Rachelgroans.“It’sFridayevening.He’scometotakeKyliefortheweekend.”
“We’reontheclockhere;weneedtogetridofthem.”
“Iknow!”
Martywavestoherthroughthewindow.Rachelremainsstanding,aghast,atthekitchensinkandwatchesasMartyandTammycomeuptheoutsidesteps.Martyopensthekitchendoor,smilesather,leansforward,andkissesheronthecheek.Helooksgood.Veryhandsome.Movie-starhandsome.He’slostalittleweight,there’scolortohischeeks,andhe’sfinallygonetoabarberwhoknowshowtocuthisthick,wavyhair.Hisgreeneyesaretwinkling,buthisheavyeyebrowsareknittogetherwithconcernwhenhelooksather.
Shefightstheweak,atavisticurgetocollapseontoMarty’schest,throwherarmsaroundhisneck,andweep.Shesniffsandpullsherselftogetherandsmiles.
“Well,you’relookingterrific.”Martylieslikeafrickin’trouper.There’salittleclearingofthethroatfrombehindhimandhebringsTammyforward.“OfcourseyourememberTam,”hesays.
Tammyistallandprettywithboringblueeyes.“Rachel!”Tammydeclaresandgivesherahug.“Howareyoudoing?”sheasks.
“I’mOK,”Rachelsaysandtakesadeepbreath.
Nowthatshe’sovertheshockofseeingthem,shehasonlytwoobjectives:getthemoutasquicklyaspossibleandwithoutraisinganysuspicionsaboutKylie’sabsence.
“Pete,whatareyoudoinghere?”Martyasks.
Petemarchesacrosstheroomandgiveshisbrotherahug.“Hey,Marty.”
“Pete,Jesus,it’sgreattoseeyou.Wow,youareasbrownasaberry.Lookatyou.Tammy,thisismybigbrother,Pete,”Martysays.
“Nicetofinallymeetyouintheflesh,”shesaysandkisseshimonthecheek.
“Ithinkit’sobviousthatIgotthelooksandthebrainsinthefamily,”Martyquips.“Whatbroughtyouuphere,bigbrother?”
RachelcanseethecogsturninginPete’sbrainashetriestothinkofsomething.“IcalledPetetohelpmewiththeroof,”shesays.
“Yeah,theroof,”Peteagrees.“Itookcareofit.”
“Sorryaboutthat,honey,”Martysays,chagrined.“Yousoundedreallyupsetonthephone.”
“It’sfinenow,”Rachelreplies,glancingattheclock.
“Sowhere’smygoldengirl?Arewealittleearly?”Martysays,evidentlyrelievedtohaveavoidedagiganticfightabouttheleakyroof.HelooksaroundforKylie.
“AreyoutakingKyliesomewhere?”Peteasks,tryingtoohardtosoundcasual.
“TakingKylieforalittledaddytimeandalittlecrazy-auntietime.I’mthecrazyauntieinthissetup,”Tammysays.
“Kylie!”Martyshoutsupstairs.
“Oh,Inearlyforgot,thisisforyou,”Tammysays.ShereachesintoashoppingbagandgivesRachelabottleofchampagne.“It’syourone-yearanniversarycomingupsoon.”
“Oneyear?”Rachelwondersoutloud.“We’veonlybeendivorcedsinceFebruary.”
“Notthat.It’saboutayearsinceyourlastchemo.That’swhatMartysaid.It’sbeenayearandithasn’tcomeback.”
“Oh,yeah,that.Isitayear?Jesus,howtimeflies,huh?”Rachelsays,stillfuriousatherselfforforgettingthatMartywascoming.
“Ayearoffullremission.That’ssomething,”Martysays.“Youshouldcelebrate.You’vegottherestoftheweekendoff.Treatyourself.GotothatMaxRichterconcertyoucouldneverdragmeto!”
Rachelputsthenow-riddled-with-ironychampagnebottleonthecountertop.Thepolitethingwouldbetoofferthemadrink,butthatwouldeatupmorepreciousminutes.Hermindisracing.Howisshegoingtoexplainthis?Shecan’tsayKylieissick.Martywouldinsistonseeingher.
“So,um,Augusta?”Peteaskshesitantly,notwantingtoinitiateaconversationbuttryingtobuysomethinkingtime.
“Whydidyoumentionthat?”Tammysaysandmimeshangingherself.
“Oh,man,yeah,AugustaNationalisjustbeautifuland—”Martybegins.
“Where’sKylie?Isshegettingready?”Tammywonders.ShetakesRachel’shand,givesherabigsmile,andchecksapingonherphone.
Really,thesekidsaretoomuch,Rachelthinks,disengagingherhand.Imean,youcanhideanythingbehindasmile.
Anythingat—
Somethingoccurstoher.
Somethingterrible.
Somethingdiabolical.
“That’salovelynecklaceyou’vegotthere,”shesaystoTammy.“I’vebeenthinkingofgettingachain.Whatdoyouthink?”
Tammylooksupfromherphone.“What?”
“I’vebeenthinkingofgettingachain.Likeyours.It’snotaboutthemoney,isit?It’saboutthechain.”
“Youcanhavethisifyouwant,sweetie.IgotitatFilene’s.Onsale.”
Notaflicker.TheChainhasnothingwhatsoevertodowithher.Itcouldn’t.Theselectionprocessisalmostentirelyrandom.That’sthegeniusofit.Rachelturnstoherex-husband.“Marty,look,I’mreallyembarrassedaboutthis.Iscrewedup.Ishouldhavecalledyou.Kylie’sgone.”
“Gone?”
“It’sallmyfault,youtwodrivinguphere.Icompletelyforgotyouwerecomingtoday.I’msostressedaboutteachingafteralltheseyearsandabouttheroofandIwastryingtowritemylectures,andIjustforgot,”Rachelsays.
“WhereisKylie?”
“ShewenttoNewYork,”Rachelsays.
“NewYork?”Martyasks,puzzled.
“Yes,she’sbeenworkingonthisschoolprojectaboutKingTutandtheyhavethatmini-exhibitionthereattheMetandshedidsowellinschoolthisterm,Ilethergoseeit.”
“InNewYork?”
“Yup,IsawherontothebusandhergrandmapickedherupatPortAuthorityandtookhertotheapartmentinBrooklyn.She’sstayingthereforacoupleofdaysandgettingalltheEgyptshe’lleverwant,”Rachelsays.
Marty’sbrowfurrows.“It’sNovember.Isn’tyourmotherdowninFlorida?”
“No,notthisyear.She’sstayinginNewYorkalittlelongerbecausetheweather’sbeensowarm.”
“WhenisKyliecomingback?”
“Inacoupleofdays.Theymighttakeinashow.Um,MomhasalineonsomeHamiltontickets.”
“Oh,IgottaaskKylieaboutthat.Whatnightissheactuallygoing?I’lltexther,”Tammysays.
“DoyouhaveKylie’snumber?”Rachelasks,horrified.
“Ofcourse.AndwefolloweachotheronInstagram.Don’tthinkshe’spostedanythingaboutNewYork,though.”
“No,um—”
“Thisisweird,”Tammysays,staringatherphone.“Kyliehasn’tpostedanythingonInstagramsinceyesterdaymorning.Normallyshepoststwoorthreetimesaday.”
“Areyousureshe’sOK?”Martyaskswithconcern.
“Yes,she’scompletelyfine,”Rachelinsists.“HergrandmotherprobablyconfiscatedheriPhone.She’salwaysgoingonaboutlookingattherealworldinsteadofburyingyourheadinascreenafewinchesfromyournose.”
Martynods.“ThatsoundslikeJudith,”hesays.“ButImean,hell,Rachel,whycouldn’tyouhavejustcalledus?Asimpletext,youknow?Saveusallalotofhassle.”
Rachel’shacklesrise.Howdarehe?He’sthemanwhowasgolfinginAugustawhilehisdaughterwaskidnapped.He’sthemanwholefthiswife,whowasrecoveringfromcancer,forayoungerwoman.He’stheman—
No.
Thisisnotthetimeforawar.Shehastobesuper-contriteandendthis.“I’mreallysorry,Marty.Imessedup.I’matotalschmuck.I’munderalotofpressure,youknow?Newjob.Teaching.Theroof.I’msorry.”
MartyistakenabackbyRachel’sself-reproach.“Oh,right,yeah.Look,that’sOK,sweetie,thesethingshappen.”
Getthemoutnow!avoiceisbellowinginRachel’shead.
“Doyouwanttostayfordinner?”sheasks,takingagamble.“Itseemsashameforyoutocomeallthewayuphereandhavetogostraightback.Icouldmake”—shetriestothinkofMarty’sleast-favoritefood.Mussels?Yeah.He’salwayshatedmusselsingarlic—“abigsaladandthey’vegotsomeamazingmusselsinatthefishmarket.”
Martyshakeshishead.“No,no,we’dbettergoifwe’regoingtobeatthetrafficback.”
“Traffic?”Tammysays,puzzled.“Thetrafficwillbegoingtheotherway.”
“Therewillbetraffic,”Martyinsists.
“I’msosorryIscrewedup,”Rachelsays.
Martygivesherasympatheticnod.“It’sOK.Shallwesaynextweekend?”
“Yes,andI’llbringherdowntoBostonsoyoudon’thavetocomeupagain.LeastIcando,”Rachelsays,wonderingifKyliewillbebacknextweekend.Ifsheisandifshe’ssafe,nothingelsewillmatter.Martycantakehertothedamnaquariumeveryweekenduntiltheendoftime.
“Thatwon’tbenecessary,”hesays,givingherapartinghug.Tammygivesherakissonthecheek.Infiveminutestheyarebackoutsideandclimbingintotheircar.
PeteandRachelwavegoodbyefromthedoorstep,goinside,andclosethedoor.
Fivetwentynow.Somuchtimewasted.Archerybeginsatsix,andTobyDunleavy’swalkhomebeginsatseveno’clock.
“Theywantanothertwenty-fivethousandbymidnightorthey’llkillKylie,”Rachelsays,tryingtowardoffpanic.
“I’malreadyonthat,”Petereplies,andshewatchesashelogsontoaBitcoinbuyingsiteonthedarkweb.
“Whatareyougoingtodo?”Rachelasks.
“Fifteen-thousandcreditlimitononecard,ten-thousandlimitontheother,noproblem,”Petesays.
“Doyouhavemoneyinthebanktocoverthat?”
“Itdoesn’tmatter,doesit?GettingKyliehomeisallthatmatters.”
Rachelkisseshimonthebackoftheneckandhelpshimsetupanaccountandtransferthefunds.
“Areyouwatchingtheclock?”sheaskshim.
“Nearlydone,”hesays.“GettheDodgewarmedup.Makesurethemasksandglovesarepacked.”
Sherunsoutside,loadsthevehicle,putsthekeyintheignition,andstartstheengine.
It’sfiveminutestosixnow.
“Done,”Petesayswhenshecomesbackin.HelooksatHelenDunleavy’sFacebookfeed.“She’sonherwaytothearcheryclub.Webettergotoo.I’llgetthegun.”
“Idon’twantthisboyhurt,”Rachelsays.
“Idon’tthinkwe’llneedtohurtanyone,butwemightneedtofireashotintheairtoscareoffanyGoodSamaritans.I’vegotaloudColt.45that’lldothat,”Peteassuresher.
Rachelnods.Shethinksofthosewords,Idon’twantthisboyhurt.Thisboy.Thisboyhasaname:Toby.He’sTobyDunleavy.Butitwillbeeasiertothinkofhimasthisboy.Anabstractthing.Notahumanbeing.Notahumanchild.Theymightneedtothreatenthisboy.Theymight,infact,needtocarryoutthethreat.
Sheshudders.Petestaresather.
“Allright.Let’sgo,”shesays.
TheygetintheDodgeanddrivedownRoute1towardBeverly.Trafficisheavierthannormal,buttheyaren’tworried.It’sonlyatwenty-minuterunandtheyhaveanhourbeforearcherygetsout.
Petetakesherhandandgivesitalittlesqueeze.“MaybeyoubettercallyourmotherandprepherincaseMartycallslookingforKylie.”
“Goodidea,”shesaysanddialshermotherinFlorida.
“I’mabouttoplaybridge,whatisit?”Judithanswers.
“Mom,listen,IjusttoldMartythatKylieisstayingwithyouinNewYork.”
“What?Whydidyoudothat?”
“Hecameovertodayandit’soneofhisweekendsbutKyliehatesMarty’snewgirlfriendanddidn’twanttogostaywithhim,soIjustsortofpanickedandsaidthatshewaswithyouforacoupleofdaysinNewYork.”
“ButI’minFlorida.”
“Mom,Iknowyou’reinFlorida,butifMartycalls,youhavetotellhimthatyou’reinBrooklynandKylie’swithyou.”
“WhatarewedoinginNewYork?”
“KyliewantstoseealltheEgyptstuffattheMet.”
“Shewouldlikethat.”
“AndyouguysgotticketstoseeHamilton.”
“Howdidwemanagetodothat?”
“Idon’tknow,maybeyouknowsomeoldladywhoisn’tusinghertickets.”
There’salongsilenceonthelinewhileJudiththinksaboutit.“Thisisquitethewebofliesyou’vehookedmeinto,Rachel.NowI’mgoingtohavetopretendI’veseenHamiltonifmyex-son-in-lawcalls.WhatamIgoingtosay?”
“Hell,Mom,canyounotthinkonyourfeet?Oh,andyou’veconfiscatedKylie’sphone,”RachelsnapsastheypassasignthatreadsBEVERLY,NEXTEXIT
“WhywouldItakemythirteen-year-oldgranddaughter’sphone?”
“Becauseyou’resickofhercomingallthewaytoNewYorkCityandthenjuststaringatapieceofglasssixinchesfromherfacethewholetimeshe’sthere.”
“Yeah,Iguessthatmakessense,”Judithsays.
“OK,Mom,thanksalot,you’realifesaver.Ibettergo,”RachelsaysastheyarriveinBeverly.
“Takecareofyourself,honey,Iworryaboutyou.”
“I’mfine,Mom.Everything’sfine.”
Shehangsup.It’sdrizzlingandachillwindisblowinginfromthewater.“Don’tlikethisweather,”Petesays.“HelenmightchangehermindandpickupTobyinsteadoflettinghimwalk.Ibettercheck.”
There’snothingonFacebook,butusingthewormonthehomePC,theyfindHelenwritingatexttohersistertosaythat,perherrecommendation,sheiswatchingAtomicBlondewithMike.
Theyhavetheirwindow.
TheyparkonRevenueStreetatsixthirty,butforsomereasonalineofkidsandadultsarecomingoutoftheOldCustomsHall.
“Whatthehell?Whoarethosekids?Jesus,Ithinkthat’sthearcheryclub!”Petecries.
“Lookatallthosebowsandstuff.Itisthem!We’vescreweditupalready!”Rachelexclaims.
“Go!Runtheroute!”Petesays,andRachelputsthecaringear.
“I’mgoing.”
“Idon’tunderstandit.They’resupposedtogetoutatseveno’clock.Whywouldtheyleaveearly?Andhalfanhourearly!Itmakesnosense,”Petesays.
“OhGod,ohGod,”Rachelissayingoverandover.
“It’sallright,”Petesaysevenly.“They’reonlyjustgettingout.We’llbeOK.”
RacheldrivesquicklyupRevenueStreet.SheturnsonStandoreStreet,andthere,aboutahundredyardsuptheroad,isakidinaparkacarryingasportsbagwithwhatlookstobeacompositebowstickingoutofit.ThekidhashishoodupandiswalkinginthedirectionoftheDunleavys’house.
“Isthathim?”Rachelasks.
“Noidea,butthatsurelooksliketheendofabowinhisbag.Andthere’snobodyoneithersideofthestreet.Forthemoment.”
“Skimaskson,”Rachelsays,desperatelytryingtokeeptheblindpanicoutofhervoice.
“Coastisclear,”Petesays.Intheendtheyhadn’tneededthetreesorthedarktohidethembecausetheraindeterredanypotentialwitnesses.Rachelputsthewiperson,killsthelights,drivesthecarupthestreet,andstopsinfrontofthechild.
“Noonearound,”Petesays,scanningbothsidesoftheroad.
“Go,then!”Rachelsays.
Petejumpsoutthepassenger-sidedoorwiththe.45.Rachelseeshimtalktothekid.Heturnsandshakeshisheadather.
Something’swrong.Petecomesbacktothecarwithouttheboy.
Whatthehellishappening?
“What’stheproblem?”shedemands.
“It’sagirl,”Petesays.
Rachelpullsherskimaskdownandgetsout.Andsureenough,it’salittle,skinny,brown-hairedgirlabouteightornineyearsold.She’scarryingagymbagthatlooksfartoobigforher.
“Didyoujustcomefromthearcheryclub?”Rachelasksher.
“Yes,”thegirlreplies.
“Whydidtheygetoutearly?”Peteasks.
“Theheatingwasbrokensowehadtocomehome.Whyareyouwearingthosethingsonyourfaces?”
“What’syourname?”Rachelasks.
“AmeliaDunleavy.”
“Where’syourbrother,Toby?”
“HewenttoLiam’shouse.Hetoldmetotakehisbaghome.”
“Whatarewegoingtodonow?”PeteasksRachel.
“We’retakingher,”Rachelsaysgrimly.
“Thatwasn’ttheplan.”
“It’stheplannow,”Racheltellshim.Sheknowsshe’llneverbeabletogothroughthisagain.Andifshecan’tgothroughwithit,Kylie’sdead.
“Comeon,Amelia,”Petesays.“We’regivingyouaridehome.”
Heputsherinthecar,claspsherseatbelt,sitsbesideher,andlocksthedoor.RachelmakesaU-turnanddrivestowardtheRoute1Aexit.
“Arewereallydoingthis?Whataboutherhealthissues?”Peteasks.
“We’lldealwiththem.Nopeanutsorpeanutproducts.We’llgetanEpiPen…shit!”Rachelexclaimsandpunchesthedashboard.
“Youshouldn’tusethatword,”Ameliasays.
“You’reright,”Rachelreplies.“Sorry,sweetie.Howoldareyou,honey?”
“I’meight,”Ameliasays.“I’llbenineinDecember.”
“Wholetsaneight-year-oldwalkhomebyherselfatnightinthisdayandage?Intherain?Whodoesthat?”Rachelmutters.
“Tobywassupposedtobehere.Itwasmyveryfirsttimeatarcherytonight.Icanusethejuniorbownow.Andhewassupposedtowalkmehome,buthewenttoLiam’sbecausewegotoutearly.”
“AndTobyletyougohomebyyourself?”
“HesaidIwasabiggirl.Heletmecarryhisbag,”Ameliasays.
“Well,youhavetocomewithusnow.YourmomsaiditwasOK.It’sanadventure,”Racheltellsher.
SheseesAmeliashakeherheadintherearviewmirror.“Idon’twanttogowithyou.Iwanttogohome,”shesays.
“Youcan’tgohome.Youhavetocomewithus,”Rachelinsists.
“Iwanttogohome!”Ameliasaysandbeginstowail.
RachelgagsasAmeliabeginstothrashandclawattheseatbelt.
“Iwanttogohome!”AmeliayellsandPeteholdsthestrugglinglittlegirlwithhisbighands.
Whenshe’soutoftown,RachelskidstheDodgetothesideoftheroadonanisolatedbitofRoute1AsomewhereinthemarshywoodsbetweenBeverlyandWenham.Sheclimbsoutofthecab,takesofftheskimask,andvomits.
Shespitsandvomitsagain.Hermouthisacridandherthroatburns.Tearsarepouringdownhercheeks.
Shevomitsuntilshe’sonlydry-heaving.
PeteopensthecardoorandthrowsoutAmelia’sshoesandthegymbag.“Bettersinkthoseintheswamp,”hesays.“Justtobeonthesafeside.MightbeaGPStransmitterinthem.”
Rachelputstheshoesinthegymbag,partiallyzipsit,andthrowsitinthemarsh,whereitfloats.Shedoesn’thavetimeforaNormanBates–stylecar-sinkingscene,soshewadesintotheswampandsinksthebastardwithherfoot.Thensheputstheskimaskbackon.
“Doyouwantmetodrive?”PeteasksasRachelclimbsbackintothepickup.SheshakesherheadandturnstoAmelia,whohastearsstreamingdownherlittleface.Hereyesarewideandshe’sclearlyterrified.
“It’sgoingtobeOK,darling,”Rachelsays.“We’rejusttakingyouforacoupleofdays.It’sagamewe’replaying.Yourmommyanddaddyknowallaboutit.”
“Aretheyplayingthegametoo?”Ameliaasks,surprised.
“Yes,theyare.It’sgoingtobeOK.Ipromise,”Rachelsaysandputsthecaringearanddrivesagain.
“You’regoingtohavetowearthisblindfoldnow,honey,”Petesays.“It’spartofthegame.”
“Likeblindman’sbuff?”Ameliaasks.
“Sure,”Petesays.
“I’veplayedthatonebefore.”
Sheputstheblindfoldon,andPeteandRacheltaketheirskimasksoff.
TheyarejustoutsideofNewburywhenRachelseesthestatepolicecarinherrearviewmirror.“Cops,”shesayscalmly.
Petelooksback.“Wehaven’tdoneanythingwrong.Justkeepdriving,don’tspeed,don’tgoslow,”hesays.
“Iknow,”shesnarlsathim.“Butgivemeagun.Iftheystopus,therewillbenotalkingourwayoutofthis.”
“Rachel—”
“Giveittome!”
Petehandsherthe.45andsheputsitinherlap.“Youknowhowtouseit?”heasks.
“Yes.We’reagreedonwhatwe’regoingtodoifwe’restopped?”
“Yes,”hesaysandholdshisbreath.
27
Friday,6:57p.m.
Thecopstailgatethemforthirtyseconds,slowlycomealongside,andthenzoombyinthepassinglane.
Ofcoursetheydo.
Rachelhasdonenothingwrong.
ShedrivesstraighttotheAppenzellers’.
Ameliaiseitherdazedorterrified.Itdoesn’tmatterwhich—she’scompliant,andthat’swhatcounts.“YougetherinsideandI’llmakethephonecalls,”RacheltellsPete.
WhenthestreetisdesertedPetetakesAmeliaoutoftheDodgeanddownintothebasement.
RachelstaysinthecabandpullsuptheWickrapponherphone.It’sdone,shetypestohercontact.
What’sdone?amessagecomesback.
I’vekidnappedAmeliaDunleavy.I’mholdingherrightnow.
Rachel’sphonerings.“Good.Verygood,”thedistortedvoicesays.“Iwillcallherfamilynow.Youwillthencallandaskforahundredthousanddollars,payableinBitcointothesameaccountasbefore.”
“Ahundredthousand!Thatseems—”
“Thatrepresentsonlyhalftheamounttheyhaveintheirsavingsaccount.Theycanpaythateasily.It’snotaboutthemoney,Rachel.”
“Iknow.It’saboutTheChain.”
“That’sright.Iwillcallthemandtellthemtogetapenandpaper.Youwilltalktothemfiveminutesfromnowonaburnerphone.Theywillbewaitingbythetelephoneforyourcall.”
Thelinegoesdead.
RachelcallsPeteonaburnerphone.
“Hello?”hesays.
“IseverythingOK?”sheasks.
“She’sfreaked,obviously.Scared.I’msayingthatwe’refriendsofthefamily.Shesortofbelievesitandsortofdoesn’t.”
“Keephersafe,Pete.Keepherawayfromnuts.Idon’tknowhowsensitivesheis,butwehavetoerronthesideofcaution.Let’snotbethestupidbabysitterinoneofthosemovies.”
“Wewon’tbe.”
“Wehavetoreadallthelabelsofeverythingwegivetoherandwe’llneedtogetanEpiPen.”
“Wewill.I’lllookintothat.IthinkyoucangetthemoneBay.Haveyoucalledthefamilyyet?”
“Doingitnow.”
“Useadifferentphonethanthisone.Driveawayfromthehousetomakethecall.”
“Goodidea.Iwill.”
Shedrivesquicklytotheparkinglotbytheocean.ShedialstheDunleavys’number.“Hello?”awomansaysanxiously.
“I’vetakenyourdaughter,Amelia.She’sbeenkidnapped.Youarenottocallthepolice.Ifyoucallthepoliceoranylawenforcementagency,I’llkillher.Doyouunderstand?”
Helenbeginstoscream.
Rachelcalmsherdownbytellingherthatifshedoesn’tcalmdown,sheisgoingtoputabulletinherdaughter’sbrain.
Theconversationtakestenminutes.
Whenit’sover,Rachelgetsoutofthecarandthrowsupagainandagainuntilthere’snothingleft.
Shestaresattheblackoceanbreakingontheshore.
Shesitsonthesandasaverycold,hardrainbeginstofall.
Herhead’shurting.Shefeelsasifherskullisgoingtoexplode.
Shesitsforfivemoreminutesandthenstandsandstampsontheburnerphoneandthrowsthepiecesintothesea.Shetiltsherfaceupintothedownpourandbegsthewatertocleanseher.Itdoesn’twork.
ShecallsPeteonanewburnerphone.“It’sdone.EverythingOKthere?”
“Notsogreat.Iputthehandcuffonandchainedhertothepillar.Shedidn’tmindthattoomuch.Andshe’snotscreamingoranything,butshe’scryingandwantshermomandsaysshecan’tstayherewithoutMr.Boo.He’sabear,apparently.There’splentyofotherstuffedtoysbutonlyMr.Boowilldo.”
“Iunderstand,”Rachelsays.
ShedriveshomeandgoesupstairsintoKylie’sroom.ShefindsMarshmallow,Kylie’spinkstuffedbunny.HowisKylieabletosleepwithoutMarshmalloworhercat?
ShetakesMarshmallow,putsonahoodie,andrunsthroughtheraintotheAppenzellers’.
ShetapsonthebackdoorandPeteletsherin.He’sonthephone.Helooksworried.
“What’sthematter?”shewhispers.
“AmExisverifyingthecharge,”hesays,puttinghishandoverthereceiver.
“Visadidthatwithmetoo.Ifthemoneydoesn’tgothroughtonight,theykillKylie.”
“Iknow.I’lltakecareofit,”hereplies.Petedoesn’tlookgood;he’stwitchy,bug-eyed,sweating.
“AreyouOK?”
“Yeah,I’mfine.I’lltakecareofit.”
Rachelputsonherskimaskandgoesdowntothebasement.
Ameliaisexhausted.Shehascriedandfoughtandcriedsomemoreandallsheprobablywantstodonowissleepbutshecan’twithoutMr.Boo.She’ssittingonthesleepingbagonthemattresssurroundedbyLegosandgamesandthewrongstuffedanimals.
Rachelsitsnexttoher.“Iknowyou’rescared,honey,butthere’snothingtobescaredof.You’resafehere,Ipromise.Iwon’tletanythinghappentoyou.”
“Iwantmymom,”Ameliasays.
“Iknow.We’llgetyoubacktohersoon.Look,IheardaboutMr.Booandalthoughwedon’thaveMr.Boo,thisismylittlegirl’sspecialfriendMarshmallow.She’shaditsincethedayshewasborn.He’svery,veryspecial.He’sgotthirteenyearsofloveinhim.”
AmelialooksatMarshmallowsuspiciously.“IwantMr.Boo.”
“Wedon’thaveMr.Boo,butwehaveMarshmallow,”Rachelsays.“MarshmallowisMr.Boo’sfriend.”
“Ishe?”
“Ohyes,they’reverygoodfriends.”RachelpasseshimoverandAmeliatakeshimhesitantly.
“Doyouwantmetotellyouastory?”Rachelasks.
“OK,Iguess.”
“Doyoulikemilkandcookies?”
“Yes.”
“WaithereandI’llseewhatIcando.”
Shegoesbackupstairs.PeteisontheporchtryingtoconvinceAmericanExpresstoputhischargethrough.Ifhedoesn’tconvincethem,acrazywomanwillmurderherdaughterintwohours.
ShetapsthekitchendoorandPeteturnstolookather.“Whatdotheysay?”sheasks.
“I’mstilltalkingtothem.”
RachelreadsthelabelonLornaDoonecookiesandGooglestheingredientsjusttobeonthesafeside.Theyarenut-free.ShegoesbackdownstairswiththemilkandLornaDoones.
ShetellsAmeliathestoryofGoldilocksandtheThreeBearsandAmeliaishappybecausesheknowsthatone.
Shedoes“HanselandGretel”nextandAmeliaknowsthatonetoo.
Storiesofkidssurvivingperilinthewoods.
PoorlittleAmelia,vanishedlikethatotherAmeliaallthoseyearsago.
She’sagoodkid.Asmartkid.Rachellikesher.Howcouldshenot?Andhowcouldshepossiblyharmthischild?
HalfanhourlaterPeteappearsatthetopofthestairs.HegivesRachelthethumbs-up.
“Thechargewentthrough?”
“Yes.”
“ThankGodforthat.”
“How’sAmelia?”
“Comedownandsee.”
“She’ssleeping.Howdidyoudothat?”Petewhispersatthebottomofthebasementsteps.
“Milk,cookies,andMarshmallow,apparently.”
“Whatkindofcookies?”
“LornaDoone.They’reOK.Icheckedthem.”
“TheEpiPenisontheway.IordereditfromeBay.”
“You’renotgettingitsenthere?”
“No.It’llgotoaneBaydropboxinNewbury.”
“Good.”
“I’llstayheretonight,”Petesays.“Yougoonhome,youlookbeat.”
“Ishouldstay.”
“No,gohome,please.”
Shedoesn’twanttofighthim.Sheisbeat.Utterlydefeated.ShetakesapictureofAmeliawithoneoftheburnerphones.“I’llsendthistothem.”
“Getsomesleep,Rachel.”
“I’mnottired,”sheinsists.
Peteisscratchinghisarmandsweating.Helooksvacant,unwell.
“Areyousureyou’reallright?”sheasks.
“Me?Great.Yougohome,I’llbefinehere.”
Shenodsandgoesupthebasementsteps.Downtheporch.Alongthebeach.Home.
She’sgladforthefreezingrain.Shedeservesdiscomfortandmiseryandpain.ShestandsinfrontofherhouseandcallstheDunleavysonanewburnerphone.
“Yes?”Helensaysbetweenbreathygaspsofpanic.
“Youbetterbeworkingonthemoneyandthetarget.I’msendingyouapictureofAmelia.She’ssleeping,she’sOK.”
“Letmetalktoher!”
“She’ssleeping.I’msendingyouapicture.”
Whenthepicturegoesthrough,Racheldestroysthephoneandwalksintoherhouse.
ShemakesacupofcoffeeandbeginsmonitoringtheDunleavys’activitiesthroughtheirmirroredhomePC.Noe-mailsortextstothecops.
Atmidnight,Rachel’siPhonerings.“Hello?”
“Rachel?”avoicewhispers.
“Yes.”
“I’mnotsupposedtocallyou,butIwantyoutoknowthatmyboywasreleasedanhourago.He’swithusnow!”
“Yougotyourboyback?”
“Yes.Ican’tbelieveit!I’msohappy!He’ssafeandhe’sbackwithusinthehouse.Iwasafraidtohopebut…hecameback.”
“But…so…isthereanywayyoucanreleaseKylienow?”
“Ican’t.YouknowIcan’t.TheChainhastocontinue.Youhavetotrusttheprocess.IfIbreakTheChain,theblowbackwillbegin.I’llbeindanger,myboywillbeindanger,andyouandKyliewillbeindanger.”
“Unlessthey’rebluffingaboutthat.”
“They’renotthekindofpeoplewhobluff.Ithinktheywouldenjoyitifitallwentwrongandwestartedkillingoneanother.Yousawwhathappenedtothatfamily.”
“Yes.”
“Theytoldmeaboutonetimeyearsagowhensomeonedefected,andthepunishmentswentsevenlevelsbackalongTheChainbeforeitsorteditselfout.”
“Shit!”
“ButIwanttoletyouknowthatyou’reonestepclosertogettingKylieback.It’llbeoversoon,Rachel,itreallywill.”
“OhGod,Ihopeso.”
“Itwill.”
“Howdidyoudoit?Howdidyougetthroughitall?Howdidyoufindthestrength?”
“Idon’tknow,Rachel.Isupposeyoujusthavetoimaginethatmomentwhenyou’retogetheragainwithKylie.Everythingyoudo,everychoiceyoumake,isameanstothatend,youknow?”
“Yes.”
“TherewasanincidentwhenwetookKylie,somethingterrible.Nothinghappenedtoher,she’sfine.ButIhadtodosomethingawful,andtheoldmewouldbeinagonyaboutwhatIdidbackthere.ButyouknowwhatIfeel?Ifeelnothing.Nothingbutrelief.IdidwhatIhadtodoandIgotmysonback.Andthat’sallthereistoit.”
“IthinkIunderstand.”
“Youjusthavetoholdonalittlebitlonger.”
“Iwill.”
28
Saturday,12:07a.m.
MikeDunleavylooksathiswifesobbingandcurledupinafetalpositiononthebathroomfloor.Heliesdownbesideherandhebeginstocrytoo.
Heputsthegunonthefloor.There’snoreasonnowtobewalkingaroundthehousewithaloadedgun.
Thegunisuseless.There’snobodytokill.
“How’sToby?”Helenaskshim,tearsflowingdownherface.
“He’sasleep.ItoldhimAmeliawasgoingtostayatafriend’shouseforafewdays.”
“Didhebelievethat?”
“Hedidn’tcare.Hejustwantedtoknowwherehisarcherystuffwas.Itoldhimitwassafe.”
“Doyouthinkit’sOKtoprayforGod’shelp?”Helenwonders.
“Arewegoingtodothis?”
“Wehaveto.”
“Wedon’thaveto.Wecouldgotothepolice.”
“They’llkillherifwegotothepolice.Thewomanwhohasherisamonster.Ihearditinhervoice.We’retheworstparentsinAmerica.Youknowthosepeoplewhooverdoseinthefrontseatsoftheircars?We’redumberthanthat.”
Helenbeginsweepingagain.Great,bigbreathysobs,likeshe’sdying.Helooksatherfaceinthedimlightcomingthroughthebathroomwindow.
Sheseemsfrailandbroken,utterlylost.Hehasnowords.
“HowcanAmeliasleepwithoutMr.Boo?”sheasks.
“Idon’tknow.”
“We’llgetherback,won’twe?Tellmewe’llgetherback,”Helensays.
“We’llgetherback.We’lldoeverythingwecan.IfIhavetokilleveryoneofthosescumbags,we’llgetherback.”
29
Saturday,5:38a.m.
It’sstilldarkoutbutperhapsit’salittlelighterintheeast.Kyliecan’tsleep.Shehasn’tsleptatallsinceshemanagedtogetthewrench.
Theadrenalinehasbeenpumpingallnightandsleepwasimpossible.She’sgoingtogetoneshotatthisandshe’sgoingtohavetotakeit.
Theplanissimple.Allthebestplansaresimple.Aren’tthey?
Getintheboat,findthewhale,killit.
Getintheboat,findtheshark,killit.
Themanorwomanisgoingtocomedownthestepswithatrayholdingabowlofcerealandaglassoforangejuice.Heorsheisgoingtobendovertosetdownthetray.Thenheorsheisgoingtotakethecerealbowlandorangejuiceoffthetray.
That’swhenKylieisgoingtohithimorherwiththewrench.
Ablowashardasshecanonthetopofthehead.Atwo-handedblowthatwillrenderhimorherunconscious.
Thatpersonwillthenbeonthegroundanddownforthecount.Ifshegetslucky,heorshewillhavethehandcuffkey.Kyliewilluncuffherself,runupthesteps,andheadforthenearestroad.If,however,thereisnohandcuffkey,thegunwillcomeintoplay.Thegunisthecrucialpartofit.Withoutfail,everytimetheyhavecomedownhere,theyhavebeenarmed.
Ifthere’snokey,Kyliewilltakethegunandwaituntilthemanorwomanwakesupandthenshe’llpointthegunatthatperson’sheadandcallfortheotheroneandtellthembothtogiveherthehandcuffkeyorshe’llshoot.
Iftheydon’tbelieveshe’llshoot,she’llplugwhoevershe’sgotinthekneecap.She’sgoneshootinginthewoodswithherunclePeteacoupleoftimes.Sheknowshowtofirearevolver.Safetyoff,checkthechamber,pullthetrigger.Thepartnerwillgetthekeyandgiveittoher,butifeitherofthembalks,she’llmakeadealwiththem:aftershegetshometohermom,she’llclaimshecan’trememberwhereshewasheld.Shewon’trememberforafullday.Thatwillgivethemtwenty-fourhourstogetoutofthecountry.
Kylieispleasedwiththeplan.It’slogicalandrationalandshecan’tseeanyreasonwhyitwon’twork.Thehardestpartwillbethefirststep,andthatwillbeoverinasecond.Youcandoit,Kyles,youreallycandoit,shetellsherself.Butshe’sshakingwithfearinthesleepingbag.
Shakingisn’ttherightword.Convulsingmightbeclosertowhat’sgoingon.Butcouragerunsinthefamily.Shethinksabouthermomgoingthroughallthosechemotreatments.ShethinksabouthergrandmotherfightingNYUforallthoseyearstostayinfacultyhousingafterGrandparanoffwithoneofhisstudents.Andshethinksabouthergreat-grandmotherIrina,thedeterminedlittlegirlwhobrowbeatandbulliedherfamilyontoadonkeycartanddrovethemeastwiththeretreatingRedArmytoatrainthattransportedthemtoastrangedomedcitycalledTashkent.Fouryearsthey’dspentthereaspennilessoutcasts,andwhentheygotbacktotheshtetlinBelarusinthefallof1945,theydiscovered,ofcourse,thateverysinglepersonwhohadstayedtherehadbeenmurderedbytheGermans.Butforhergreat-grandmother’scourage,Kyliewouldn’tbeheretoday.
That’swhatsheneedsnow,thecourageanddeterminationoflittleIrinaandhermomandhergrandma.Allthewomen,allthewayback.Sheexaminesthewrenchagain.Heavy.Sevenincheslong.Someoneprobablyleftitthereafterfixingtheboiler.Morelikelyaworkmanthanoneofthehouse’sowners.Theydon’tseemliketheboiler-fixingtypes.Itisn’tthesortofwrenchthatwillhelpbreakachain,butit’smaybebigenoughtobreaksomeone’shead.
She’llsoonfindout.
30
Saturday,6:11a.m.
RachelchecksforAmberAlertsandpolicereportsandbreakingnewsaboutamissingchild,andshekeepsoneeyealwaysonthemirroroftheDunleavys’homePC.
Weehours.RobertLowell’sSkunkHour.Solate.Sotired.
Don’tfallasleep,don’tfallasleep,don’tfallasleep…
Shecloseshereyesforthebriefestofmoments.
Void.
Sunlight.
Birdsong.
Shit.
Whatdayisit?
Thehoursarelikeyearsandthedaysaredecades.Howmanymillenniaintothisgoddamnnightmareisshe?
Anothermorning.Thatfeelinginherstomach,thosebutterfliesofterror,ofgut-churninghorror.You’veneverexperiencedfearuntilsomethingorsomeoneputsyourchildindanger.Dyingisnottheworstthingthatcanhappentoyou.Theworstthingthatcanhappentoyouisforsomethingtohappentoyourkid.Havingachildinstantlyturnsyouintoagrown-up.Absurdityistheontologicalmismatchbetweenthedesireformeaningandtheinabilitytofindmeaninginthisworld.Absurdityisaluxuryparentsofmissingchildrencan’tafford.
Shesitsattheliving-roomtable.Elithecatmeowsnexttoher.Hehasn’tbeenfedinalmosttwodays.
Shefillshisbowl,drinksamugofcoldcoffee,andstepsoutontothedeck.ThensheputsonacoatandwalksalongthebasintrailtotheAppenzellers’house.
ThesuncomesupovertheAtlanticandthebighousesontheeasternsideoftheisland.HeriPhonerings.UnknownCaller.Herstomachlurches.Whatnow?“Hello?”
“Ineedyou!Getoverhere!”Peteyells.
“I’mtwominutesaway.”
“Run!Ineedhelp.”
ShesprintsalongthebasintrailandontoNorthernBoulevard.Heartpounding,sherunsdownthepathontothebeachandupthebackstepsoftheAppenzellers’
Worryingly,thedoorisopen.
Shegoesinside.
Onthekitchentablethere’sPete’s.45andabagofwhatlookslikedrugs.Whatthehell?IsPeteauser?Hermindraces.
Canhebetrusted?Jesus,ishepartofallthis?
RachelthinkssheknowsPete,butcanyoueverreallyknowanybody?He’scrazyaboutKyliebuttherewerethosearrestsawhileback,andwhathashebeendoingalltheseyearssincegettingoutoftheCorps?
Sheshakesherhead.No,it’sPete,forheaven’ssake.Thisistheparanoiatalking.TheChainhasnothingtodowithTammyandithasnothingtodowithPete
Butdrugs?Thisisserious.She’llhaveto—
“Rachel!Downhere!Putyourmaskon.”
Sheputsonherskimaskandrunsdownthebasementstairs.
PeteisholdingAmelia,whoiswrappedinatowel,writhingandshaking.Cerealisspilledalloverthefloor.
“Whathappened?”
“GavehertheRiceKrispies.Ithoughtitwouldbefine!Ididn’tseethesmallprint.Itsaysthatitmightcontaintracenuts.”
“MyGod!”
“TheEpiPenwon’tbehereuntillaterthismorning,”Petesaysinacompletepanic.
Amelia’slipshaveswollenandshe’sdeathlywhite.Therearespecksoffoamatthecornersofhermouthandherbreathsareshallowandraspy.
RachelputsthebackofherhandonAmelia’sforehead.
Fever.
SheliftsAmelia’sshirt.
Hives.
RachelopensAmelia’smouthandlooksinside.Noobstruction.Hertongueisn’tswollen.Yet.
“Areyouhavingtroublebreathing,Amelia?”Rachelasks.“Canyoubreathe?Answerme.”
Amelianods.
“Whatdoesyourmomdowhenyou’relikethis?”
“Doctor.”
She’scoveredwithsweatandherbreathingisgettingmorelabored.
“Weneedtotakehertoahospital,”Petesays.
Rachelturnstofacehim.Whatthehellishethinking?Hospital?There’snowaytheycantakehertothehospital.IftheytakehertothehospitalthejigisupandKylie’sdead.
“No,”shesays.
“She’shavinganallergicreaction,”Petesays.
“Icanseethat.”
“Shehastoseeadoctor.Wedon’thavetheEpiPen.”
“Nodoctor,”Rachelinsists.“I’llholdher.”
ShetakesthegirlandPetefinallyunderstands.“Areyousure?”
“Yes.I’vemadethedecision.”
Aterribledecision,butoneTheChainhasforcedonher.
Eitherthelittlegirlisgoingtodieinherarmshereandnoworshe’ssomehowgoingtogetbetter.
“I’llstayherewithher.YougetanEpiPenanywayyoucan!”
“How?”
“Robagoddamnpharmacy!Idon’tknow.Go!”
Peterunsupstairs.“I’llleaveyouthegun,”hesaysfromthekitchen.
“Fine.Justgo!”
Shehearsthebackdoorslam.
SheholdsAmelia.
“Doctor,”Ameliasays.
“Yes,honey,”Rachelreplies.
Therewillbenodoctorsandnohospitals.
Ifshedies,sheandPetewillabandonthehouseandtryagain.Thecopswillfindadeadlittlegirlchainedtoapillar,coveredinspitandvomit,surroundedbydollsandtoysandgames.Theywillthinkit’soneofthemostevilcrimescenesthey’veeverlaideyeson.
Amelia’sfaceispale.Hereyesareglassy.Shebeginscoughing.
Thehospitalcouldsaveher.
AparamedicunitfromtheNewburyportFireDepartmentcouldsaveher.
ButRachelisn’tgoingtocalltheparamedicsoradoctororahospital.ThatpathwillkillKylie.IfshehastochoosebetweenAmeliaandKylie,it’sgoingtobeKylie.
Rachelstartstocry.“Trytobreathemoreslowly,”shesaystoAmelia.“Slow,easy,bigbreaths.”
ShefeelsAmelia’spulse.It’sgettingweaker.Amelialooksgreen.Herskinissoaking,asifshe’sjusthadabath.“WantDaddy,”Ameliamoans.
“Help’scoming,Ipromise.”
Rachelrocksthelittlegirlinherarms.She’sdying.Ameliaisdyingandthere’snothingRachelcando.
Maybeantihistamineswouldhelp?Theremightbesomeupstairsinthemedicinecabinet.
ShepicksupherphoneandGooglespeanutallergyandantihistamines.Theveryfirstarticlethatcomesuptellshernottogiveantihistaminestoachildhavingasevereallergicreactionbecauseantihistaminesdon’ttreatanaphylaxisandmightmakethingsworse.
“Comeon,Pete,”Rachelsaysoutloud.“Comeon.”
Amelia’slimpandhotandbubblesarefrothingonherlips.
“Mom,”shesaysandmoansagain.
“It’sOK,”Rachellies.“It’sOK.”
Sheholdsthelittlegirltightlyagainsther.
Theminutestickpast.Ameliagetsnobetterbutnoworse.
Thehouseisquiet.
Shecanheargulls,thesea,arat-a-tat…
Huh?
Shesitsuponthemattressandlistens.
Shehearstherat-a-tatagain.
Whatisthat?
“Elaine?”someonesays.
Someoneisknockingatthefrontdoor.
Someoneisupstairsrightnow.
Awoman.
ShelaysAmeliadownonthemattress,quietlyrunsupthebasementsteps,andcrawlsintothecorridor.
Rat-a-tatagainandthenanother“Elaine?Areyouhome?”
Rachelflattensherselfonthecorridorfloor.
“Elaine?Isthereanybodyhome?”
Amelia’slittlevoicedriftsupthroughtheopenbasementdoor.“Mommy…”
“Elaine?Areyouguysthere?”
Rachelcrawlsalongthehallandintothekitchen.
ThebagofdrugsisgonebutPeteleftthe.45.
Racheltakesitoffthekitchentableandslipsbackoutintothehall.Thisisonestupidwomanoutthere.EvenifElainewerehome,shewouldn’twantsomeoneknockingonherdooratsixthirtyinthemorning.
“Uhh,”Ameliamoans.
Heartinmouth,Rachelslithersdownthebasementstairs,almostslippingandbreakinghergoddamnneck.SherunstoAmeliaandputsherfingertoherlips.
“Shhh,”shehisses.
“Elaine,areyouinthereornot?”thevoiceatthefrontdoordemands.“IthoughtIsawyoumovingaround!”
AmeliamoanslouderandRachelhasnochoicebuttoputherhandoverthelittlegirl’smouth.Ameliacan’tbreatheproperlythroughhernose.ShebeginsthrashingagainstRachel’sgripbutshe’sfartooweaktoputupanykindofresistance.
“Shhh,”Rachelwhispers.“Takeiteasy.It’sOK,it’sOK.”
Sheholdshertight.
Nomorenoisefromupstairs.
Tensecondsgoby.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
Thirty.
“Iguessnobody’shome,”thevoiceoutsidesays.
Rachelhearsthewomanwalkdowntheporchsteps,andamomentlatershehearstheheavyfrontgateswingclosed.RacheltakesherhandawayfromAmelia’smouthandthelittlegirlgaspsforair.
Rachelrunsupstairstothefirst-floorwindow.Thebusybodyisanelderlyladyingaloshesandapurpleraincoat.“Wow,”Rachelsaystoherself.
Utterlyexhausted,shesitsonthefloorandwaitsforthecopstoshowup.
Whentheydon’tcome,shegoesbackdownstairstoAmelia.
Sheseemstobedoingalittlebetter.Oristhatjustwishfulthinking?
ShephonesPetebuthedoesn’tanswer.
Shewaitstwominutesandcallsagain.Noanswer.
Whereishe?Whatthehellishedoing?
Werethosedrugs?Washehigh?Sheknowshe’sbeeninandoutoftheVAclinicinWorcesterforthepastyearbutshehasn’taskedwhattheproblemis.Pete’sneverbeenonetoshareandshedidn’twanttopushit.
Whereishe?
Hasherunoutonthem?
Ameliaislyingonhersidenow,coughing.
Racheltucksherinthesleepingbagandputsherarmsaroundherthewayamotherwould.Shestrokesherforeheadandrocksher.
“It’sgoingtobeOK,baby,”shesaysgently.“Sweetie,Ipromise,inacoupleofhours,you’llfeelfine.”
Rachelholdsherandtalkstoherandshefeelslikethebiggestdirtbagfraudintheworld.Fiveminutescrawlbyinslowmotion.She’dbeenwillingtoletherdie.Wouldhaveletherdie.Stillwillletherdieif—
KNOCK
KNOCK
KNOCK
Rachelcreepsbackupthebasementstepsagain.
KNOCK
KNOCK
KNOCK
Shetiptoesupthestairstothesecond-floorbedroomandlooksoutthewindow.
It’saNewburyportPoliceofficer.
TheoldladylookingforElainehadcalledthefrickin’cops.
“Hello?”thepolicemansays,knockingagain.
Rachelholdsherbreath.IfAmeliasomehowmanagestoscream,thecopwillcertainlyhear.
“Anybodyhome?”thecopsays.
Helooksthroughthemailslotandexaminesthewindows.Rachelflinchesbackbehindthecurtain.Ifhe’ssuspicious,he’llbreakthedoordown.Thenwhat?
IfRachelshootshim,itwon’tsolvetheproblem.Morecopswillcometoinvestigate.Andmore.Andthekidnappingwillbecompromised,andKyliewillbekilled.ButifhediscoversAmelia,RachelwillbearrestedandKyliewilldie.
Thecoptakesafewstepsbackandlooksatthesideofthehouse.Ifhespotswherethewindowhasbeenrecentlyboardedup—
Rachelfliesdownthestairs.
Ameliaisgurglinginthebasement.Aterriblechokingnoise.
Sheismaybeactuallygoingintocardiacarrestnow.Rachelrunsthroughthekitchen,tuckingthe.45intothebackofherjeans.Shehastostopthepoliceman.Ifthegameisup,Kylieisdead.Simpleasthat.
Rachelsprintsdownthebackporchandalongthesandypathtothefrontofthehouse.
“Hellothere!”shesaysfromthestreet.
Thecopturnstolookather.Sherecognizeshim.She’sseenhimattheice-creamplaceinIpswichacoupleoftimes,andhe’dgivenMartyaticketoncewhentheyparkedtooclosetothehydrantatthefarmstand.He’sinhismidtwenties.Kennysomething.
“Hi,”hesays.
“Areyououthere’causeIcalledyou?”sheasks.
“Didyoucallthepolice?”
“ElaineAppenzelleraskedmetokeepaneyeonthehousewhileshe’sinFlorida.Isawsomekidsplayingaroundinhere.ItoldthemtoscramorIwouldcallthecops.And,well…”
“Theydidn’tscram?”
“No.Theyhavenow,obviously,nowthatyou’rehere.I’msorry,didIdothewrongthing?Imean,theyweretrespassing.That’sagainstthelaw,right?”
“Whatdidthesekidslooklike?”
“Oh,no,wedon’thavetomakeafederalcaseoutofit.Theywereonlyaboutten.Look,I’msorry.IwasjustbluffingwhenItoldthemIwouldcallthecopsandthentheywerelookingatmethewayboysthatagedo,andIsaid,‘I’mpressingthenumber,’andIsortofpressedit.”
Kennysmiles.“Youdidtherightthing,ma’am.Idon’tknowifwecouldproveaggravatedcriminaltrespassonten-year-olds,butifyoudon’tstopthemyoung,thenextstepisbreakingandentering.You’dbesurprisedhowmanyofthesebigoldemptysummerhousesgetbrokenintointheoff-season.”
“Really?”
“Ohyes.Kidsusually,ofcourse,veryfewactualburglaries,butquiteoftenforrecreationaldruguseorimmoralpurposes.”
“Immoralpurposes?”
Kenny’scheeksflushred.“Sex,”hesays.
“Oh.”
Theystareateachother.
“Well,I’lljustcheckthatthefrontandbackdoorsarelockedandthenI’llgetgoing,”Kennysays.
Rachelcan’tallowthattohappen.Thebackdoorwillgivethegameaway.
ShewondersifAmeliaisstillalivedowninthebasement.ShewondershowtheRacheloftodaycanthinksuchathinginsooffhandandchillyamanner.TheRachelofyesterdaywouldhavebeenheartbroken.TheRachelofyesterdayisdeadandgone.
Sheplucksatthelooseredthreadonhersweaterandfeelsthe.45behindherback.Hisgunisholstered.Shecouldmarchhimintothehouseatgunpointandexecutehim,takeAmeliaoutofthere,andmovehertoadifferentsafehouse.
“DidIseeyouattheWhiteFarmsice-creamstandinIpswichafewtimes?”Rachelsays.
“Yeah,I’vebeenthere,”hereplies.
“I’mabutter-crunchgirl.What’syourfavoriteflavor?”
“Raspberry.”
“I’venevertriedthatone.”
“It’sgood.”
“YouknowwhatflavorI’venevertriedbutwantto?TheOutrageous.Theonethathasabitofeverything.”
“Yeah,Iknow.Soundsweird.”
“Perhapsifyou’renotdoinganything,Idon’tknow…”shesaysandsmiles.
KennyisabitslowontheuptakeandRachelguessesthatitisn’teverydaythatasomewhatattractiveolderwomancomesontohim,buteventuallyhebeginstoseethatshe’smakingapassathim.Infact,heprobablythinksshemadeupthewholestoryaboutthekidsintheyardjusttomanufacturethislittleencounter.
“Ifyoucouldgivemeyournumber,I—”
“Yes,”Rachelsays.“Thisweekisn’tgood,butnextweekifyou’renottoobusy…orwecouldgoforadrinkorsomething.Youknow,ifit’stoocoldforicecream,”sheadds,givingherwinningestsmile.
Kennysmilesback.
“Haveyougotapenandpaper?”sheasks,notingthathedoesn’thavethemonhim.“Backatyourcar?”
Shewalkshimbacktothecopcar,touchinghisarmacoupleoftimesaccidentallyonpurpose.Shegiveshimhernumberandthankshimforcomingout.“I’llcheckthelocks.I’msupposedtogoinandfeedthefishanyway,”Rachelsays.
“Icangowithyou,”Kennyoffers.
Sheshakesherhead.“Nah,I’llbeOK,Ihavetheheartofalion…andalifetimebanfromtheBostonzoo.”
Kennyhasn’theardthatonebeforeandhelaughs.Hegetsinthepolicecarandshesmilesagainandwavesashedrivesoff.
Whenhe’soutofsight,sherushestothebackdoor,entersthroughthekitchen,andrunsdownthebasementsteps,puttingonherskimaskasshegoes.“Hangon,honey!Hangon!”
Ameliaiscoveredinhivesandsweatbut,incredibly,isstillalive.
Barely.
“OhmyGod,sweetie,holdon,justholdon.”
Ameliaisdroolingandherbreathingisgettingshallower.
Rachelpullsheroutofthesleepingbag.
She’sonfire.Hereyesflutter.
Herbreathingslows,slows,slows,andthenstopscompletely.
“Amelia?”
Sheisn’tbreathing.OhmyGod!CPR!Howdoyou—
Rachelrememberswhattodoandbeginsgivinghermouth-to-mouth.
SheinhalesdeeplyandthenbreatheslifebackintoAmelia.Once,twice.
ShechangespositionandpumpsAmelia’schesthardandfast,thirtytimes.
Thelittlegirlisbreathingagainbutsheneedshelp,now.Racheltaps911intoherphonebutdoesn’tpresssend.
OnecallandtheparamedicswillcomeandsaveAmelia’slife.
They’llsaveAmeliaandcondemnherowndaughtertodeath.
ShesqueezestheiPhonesohardshethinkstheglassisgoingtocrack.
Amelia’sface.
Kylie’sface.
No.Shecan’tdoit.Sobbingontheconcretefloor,sheputsthephonedown.
31
Saturday,7:27a.m.
Thedooratthetopofthebasementstepsopens.
“Breakfastontimethismorning,”themansays,comingdownthestairswithajugoforangejuice,toast,andabowlofcereal.Kylielooksforthegunandthereitis,tuckedinthefrontofhispants,somethingherunclePetesaysnobodyshouldeverdowithfirearms.
“Areyouawake?”heasks.
“Yeah,”Kyliesays,sittingupinthesleepingbag.
“That’sgood.Doyoulikemarmalade?Iloveit.IneverhaditbeforeIwenttoLondonafewyearsago.Haditonmytoastatbreakfast.”
“Yes,Idolikeit.Mymomgetsitsometimes.”
“Toastcutintotriangles,Mainebutter—fromgrass-fedcows,ofcourse—CocoPops,andOJ.Thatshouldkeepyougoingforawhile.”
Hesetsthetraydownontheground.
ShehasdeliberatelyplacedMoby-Dickonthefloor,opened,facedown,two-fifthsfromtheend.Sheknowshe’llpickitup,impressed.
“Mygoodness,you’redoingwellwiththis.You’reoverhalfway—”
Whileheisbendingover,Kylieclubshimontheheadwiththewrench.Thefactthathe’swearingtheskimaskmakesiteasiertodobecauseshecanpretendshe’snothittingahumanatall.Themangroansandshehitshimagain.
Hefallsforwardandlandswithasortofpatheticclumpontheedgeofthemattress.
Shehasnoideawhereontheheadshe’shithimbutithasdonethetrick,allright.He’sout.
Nowsheknowsshe’sinaraceagainsttime.
Shehastofliphimover,getthehandcuffkeyoutofhispocket,uncuffherself,andrunupthesteps.
Outintheyard,therecouldbeadogorthewomanoranything.She’llhavethegun.She’llhavetoshoot.Ifthere’snoonethere,she’llhavetorunstraightforthefenceasfastasshecan.Ifshe’sinthepartofNewHampshireshethinkssheis,it’llbemarshyandboggy,butifshekeepsgoingeast,she’llhitI-95orRoute1ortheocean.She’llkeepgoingeveniftheyyellathertostop.
He’saheavymanbutshemanagestorollhimoverontohisback,pushingonhissweatychestandhisarmpitsthatsmelllikeonions.
Shetakesthegunoutofhiswaistbandandsearchesinallhispocketsforthekeytothehandcuffs.
Nowallet,noID,nonothing,butespeciallynokey.
Shesearchesagainjusttobesure.He’swearingold-fashionedbrownslackswithdeeppockets,butthey’retotallyempty.Therearenorearpocketsinthepants,buthisshirthasapocketatthefront.Itwouldbetheperfectplacetohideahandcuffkey.
Yes!shethinks,butthere’snokeythereeither.Damnit.
OntoplanB.Kylieexaminesthegun.Therearesixbulletsinthecylinder.OK,shethinks,allhehastodoiswakeup.
Aminutegoesby.
Two.
OhmyGod,hasshekilledhim?Allshedidwashithimwithawrench.Thatdidn’tkillpeopleinthemovies.Shedidn’tmeantokill—
Themanbeginstostir.
“Oh,myhead,”hesays,smilingweakly.“Rightinthenoggin.Yougotmegood.”
Hegroans,andafterafewsecondshesitsupandlooksather.Shehastheguninherhand.Theloadedgun.
“Whatdidyouhitmewith?”heasks.Heputshishandsundertheskimaskandrubshiseyes,moaning.
“Ifoundawrenchonthefloor,”Kyliesays.
“Whatwrench?”
Kylieholdsupthewrenchinherlefthand.
“Oh,wow.Howdidwemissthat?”
“Itwasundertheboiler.”
“Impossible!Icheckedthisroom.”
“Youhadtobeinacertainspotatacertaintime.IrememberedwhatHowardCartersaidwhenhefoundKingTut’stomb.Youhavetobelooking,notjustseeing.”
Themannods.“Ilikethat.You’reverysmart,Kylie.Allright,sowhatissupposedtohappennextinyourplan?”
“I’vesearchedyou.Youdon’thavethekeytothehandcuffs,butshemust.Iwantyoutoyellforherandtellhertobringthehandcuffkey.”
“Orwhat?”
“OrI’llshootyou.”
“Doyouthinkyou’recapableofdoingthat?”
“Yes.Ithinkso.MyunclePetetookmetargetshootingafewtimes.Iknowwhattodo.”
“It’sadifferentthing,though,isn’tit,shootingatarget,apieceofpaper,andshootingaperson?”
“I’mgoingtoshootyouinthelegfirsttoshowyouthatI’mserious.”
“Andthenwhat?”
“She’llgivemethehandcuffkeyandI’llgo.”
“Whywouldsheletyougo?”
“BecauseotherwiseI’llkillyou,”Kyliesays.“ButIknowyoudidn’tmeantodoallthisandI’llmakeyoubothapromise.AfterIgetoutofhere,I’llsaytomymomthatIcan’trememberanything.I’llwaittwenty-fourhoursuntilItellthecopswherethisplaceis.Thatwillgiveyoubothadaytoflyanywhereyouwant.Anywherethereisn’ta,um,oneofthose—”
“Extraditiontreaties?”
“Yeah.”
Themanshakeshisheadsadly.“I’msorry,Kylie.Itwasagoodeffort,butyou’vemiscalculated.Heatherdoesn’treallycareaboutme.She’dletyoushootme.She’dletyouplugasmanybulletsasyou’dlikeintome.”
“Ofcourseshe’llcare!Callher.Tellhertobringthekey!”
“No.”Hesighs.“Shehasn’tcaredforyears,ifsheeverreallydid.Jared’shersonfromherfirstmarriage.Iwaskindofastopgapmeasure,Iguess.Astopgapshegotstuckwith.IloveherbutIthinkthefeeling’sneverreallybeenmutual.”
Kyliemakesamentalnoteofthetwonamesheletslipinhisdazedstate,HeatherandJared.Thatinformationmightbeusefullaterbutfornowshehastogetout.
“Idon’tcareaboutanyofthatstuff,mister.Iwanttogetoutofhere!I’mnotbluffing.”
“Idon’tthinkyou’rebluffing.Youseemlikeaverydeterminedyounglady.Youshouldpullthetrigger.”
“Iwill.”
“Doit,then.”
Shestandsup,aimstherevolverattheman’skneecap,andsqueezesthetriggerthewayherunclePetetaughther.
Thehammerfallsdownonthepercussioncap.There’saclick,andthensilence.Shesqueezesthetriggeragain.Thechamberrevolves;thehammergoesbackandcomesdownonanotherpercussioncap.Anotherclick,thenmoresilence.Shepullsthetriggerfourmoretimesuntilshehasgonethroughtheentiresixbulletsinthegun.
“Idon’tunderstand,”shesays.
Themanreachesoutandtakesthegunfromher.Heclicksopentherevolverandshowsherthesixgleamingemptybrasscartridgesthatheputintheweapon.
32
Saturday,7:35a.m.
There’sanoiseupstairsinthekitchen.
Hasthecopcomeback?
Rachelpicksupthegunandpointsitatthetopofthebasementsteps.“Whoisit?”sheasks.
Shesightsthegun.Holdsherbreath.
Petecomesrunningdownthesteps.
“IgottheEpiPen.Itarrivedatthedropbox!”hesays.
“ThankGod!”
RachelbacksawayasPeteinjectsAmeliaintheleg.Itworksalmostimmediately.Likeagoddamnmiracle.Ameliagaspsandbeginstocough.
Shecoughsandsucksairandcoughsagain.
Petegivesherwaterandshedrinksitandwheezes.
Hetakesherwrist.“Pulsecomingdowntonormal.Andshe’sbreathingbetter.”
Rachelnods,walksupstairs,findstheAppenzellers’liquorcabinet,andpoursherselfalargetumblerofScotch.
Shedrinksitandrefillstheglass.
Forty-fiveminuteslater,Petecomesuptojoinher.“Howisshe?”Rachelasks.
“Doingmuchbetter,”Petesays.“Fever’swaydown.”
“Shewasinaverybadway.Ithinkherbreathingstopped.”
“Itwasmyfault.Ididn’tcheckthecereal.”
“Iwouldhaveletherdie,Pete.”
Peteshakeshisheadbutheknowsshewouldhaveandthatheprobablywouldhavetoo.
“I’vebecomethem,”Rachelwhispers.
Theystareateachotherforabeatortwo.Theireyestellthesamestory:shame,exhaustion,fear.
“Whenyouwereout,somewomancametothedoorlookingforElaineAppenzeller.Shewentawaybutshecalledthecops,”Rachelsays.
“Didthecopscomehere?”
“Yeah.”
“Arewecompromised?”
“Idon’tthinkso.IflirtedwiththecopandIthinkhethinksI’msomehornyoldladywhonuisance-callsthepolicejusttogetdateswiththem.”
“You’renotold,”Petesayswithasmile,tryingtolightenthemood.
I’mprobablydying,Pete,Rachelthinks,howmucholdercanyouget?“SoAmelia’sOK?”
“She’sonthemend,yeah.”
“I’llgodownandseeher.”
Amelia’sbreathingandcomplexiondon’tfullyreturntonormalforanotherhalfanhour.Ifonlyatraceamountofnutshasdonethistoher,thenafull-blownexposurewouldcertainlyhavekilledher.
“Whydoyoualwayswearthosemasksonyourface?”Ameliaasksher.
“It’sbecausewhenwegiveyoubacktoyourmommy,wedon’twantyoutobeabletotellherwhatwelooklike,”Rachelsays.
“Doesn’tMommyknowwhatyoulooklike?”
“No.”
“YoushouldFriendheronFacebookandthenshe’llknow,”Ameliasaysdefinitively.
“MaybeI’lldothat.Doyouwantajuicebox?”
“Isitapplejuice?”
“Yes,”Rachelsaysasshehandsittoher.
“Ihateapplejuice.EverybodyknowsIhateapplejuice.”AmeliagroansandthrowsawaytheapplejuiceandthenshethrowstheLegohorseshe’splayingwith.Itsmashesintohalfadozenpieces.“IhateithereandIhateyou!”sheyells.
“Youhavetokeepyourvoicedown,sweetie,”Rachelsays.Theyhaddoneagoodjobwiththesoundproofingbutstill…
“Why?”
“Becauseifyoudon’t,Iguesswe’llhavetoputtapeoveryourmouthtokeepyouquiet.”
Amelialooksatherinamazement.“HowwouldIbreathe?”
“You’dbreathethroughyournose.”
“Wouldyoureallydothat?”
“Yes.”
“You’remean.”
Rachelnods.Thelittlegirlisright.Sheismean.She’ssomeanthatshe’dbeenwillingtoletherdiedownhere.
Racheltakesaburnerphoneoutofherbag.“Wouldyouliketospeaktoyourmom?”sheasks.
“Yes!”Ameliasays.
RacheldialsHelenDunleavy’snumber.
“Hello?”Helensays.Shesoundsfrazzled,exhausted,afraid.
“WouldyouliketospeaktoAmelia?”
“Yes,please.”
Sheputsthephoneonspeakerandhandsittothelittlegirl.
“Sweetie,areyouthere?”Helenasks.
“Mommy,whencanIcomehome?”
“Soon,sweetie,realsoon.”
“Idon’tlikeithere.It’sdarkandscary.WhenisDaddycomingforme?Idon’tfeelwell.I’mreallybored.”
“Soon,sweetie.He’llcomesoon.”
“AmIgoingtohavetomissmuchschool?”
“Ithinkso.Idon’tknow.”
“Ihatethischainonmyhand.Ihateit!”
“Iknow.”
“Saygoodbyetoyourmommy,”Rachelsays,reachingforthephone.
“Ihavetogonow,”Ameliasays.
“’Bye,honey!Iloveyou!”
Racheltakesthephoneandbeginswalkingupthestairs.“Asyoucansee,she’ssafeandwell.Fornow.Youneedtogetmovingwithpartsoneandtwo.”
Rachelclosesthebasementdoorbehindherandwalksintothekitchen.
“Ithinkwecantransferthemoneytonight,”Helensays.
“Doitnow!Andthengetscoutingforatarget.We’llkillAmeliaifwehaveto.Iwantmydaughterbackandyouareinmygoddamnway,”Rachelsaysandthenshebreaksthephoneinhalf.Shetakesthebackoffit,removestheSIMcard,andstampsonitrepeatedlyuntilit’sbrokenintwo.SheputstheremainsinthegarbagebagPetekeepsinthekitchen.
Shestandsthere,shakingwithangerandfrustration.
Horizontallinesofdustlevitateinthebeamsofsunlightcomingthroughtheshutteredwindows.Shecanheartheseabreakingonthebeachahundredyardsinfrontofher,anddownstairsthelittlegirlishummingtoherself.
Shebreathesinandout,inandout.Lifeisacascadeofnowsfallingontopofoneanotherwithoutmeaningorpurpose.Ofallthephilosophers,onlySchopenhauerevergotthatright.
“I’mgoingbackhome,”sheshoutstoPeteandwhenthecoastisclear,sheslipsoutthebackandwalksoverthedunes.Shefeelslikecrying,butshe’sallcriedout.Sheisstone.TheRockofGibraltar.Andagainthatthought—theRachelofyesterdayisgone.SheLadyMacbethedthetearsouteonsago,andsheisadifferentpersonnow.
33
Saturday,7:41a.m.
Themanistakingafewminutestopullhimselftogether.
Kyliestaresathimindisbelief.
HerplanAisgone;herplanBisgone.
ThereisnoplanC.
“Idon’tunderstand—whydidn’tyouloadthegun?”Kylieasksatlast.
“YouthinkIwouldeverpointaloadedgunatachild?Me?Whenallmyprofessionallifehasbeenabout…ooh,myhead.Andnotafterthatincidentwiththe…afterwhathappenedwhenwegotyou.Wow.It’sstillthrobbing.Youhitmetwice?Thatwasreallysomething.Now,beagoodgirlandgivemethewrench.”
Kyliehandshimthewrenchandheputsitonthebreakfasttray.
“Imustsay,Kylie,Ireallyadmireyou.You’reresourcefulandyou’redeterminedandbrave.Ifthiswereanyothersituation,Iwouldberootingforyoutosucceed.”
“Thenpleaseletme—”
“ButIdon’twantyoutothinkI’mapushoverorthatI’mnotserious.I’mdeadlyserious.We’resoclosetotheendnow.Andwe’vebeenthroughsomuch.SoI’mafraidthatI’mgoingtohavetopunishyousoyoudon’tdoanythinglikethisagain.”
“Iwon’t.Ican’t.”
“It’salittletoolateforyoutogiveyourwordonthat.”
Heleansforwardandslapshersohardthatthechainjerkstautandshetwistsandfallstotheconcretefloor.
Aringinginherhead.
Whitespotsbeforehereyes.
Darkness.
Anellipsisoftime.
Whitespotsagain.
Pain.
Bloodpouringfromhernostrilsandhermouth.
Whereisshe?
Somewheremusty.
Anattic?
Abasement?
A—
Ohyeah.
She’sbeenunconsciousforhowlong?Aminute?Two?Aday?
Whensheopenshereyes,themanisgone.He’stakenthewrenchandthegunwithhim.Thebreakfasttrayisstillthere.
Herfaceisstinging.Herheadislight.
Shesitsup.Ifshetriestostand,sheknowsshe’llfalldownagain.
Hereyesaren’tfocusingtoowelleither.Thefarwallofthebasementisblurringintoonelongsmearofcolor.
Blooddripsfromhernoseontothesleepingbag.
Drip.Drip.Drip.
Crimsonbloodpoolingontheshinynylonsurface,makingashapelikeSouthAmerica.
Shedipsherfingerinthemilkofthecerealbowl.Stillcold.She’sbeenunconsciousforonlyafewminutes,then.
Shebeginstocry.She’ssolonelyandsoafraid.Abandonedbythewholeworldwithnoideasandnohopeandnoplanatall.
34
Saturday,4:00p.m.
RacheldrivestothemallinNewHampshireandbringsbackafirst-aidkit,dolls,DVDs,aprincessdometent,andgames.Pureguilt.Pureguiltafterthefact.Ameliaisdoingbetternow.SheplayedSnakesandLadderswithPeteandateahamsandwich.
TheyputupthedometentandstickFrozenintheportableDVDplayer.TheywatchAmeliawatchthemovieforanhouruntiltheWickrappchimesonRachel’sphone.Shegoesupstairstoreadit.
Amessagefrom2348383hudykdy2.
TheDunleavyransomhasbeenpaid,themessagesayssimply.
Racheltakesoneofthepowered-upburnerphonesanddialstheDunleavys.
“Hello?”Helensays.
“Theransomhasbeenpaid.Youknowwhattodonow.”
“Howcanwedothat?It’smadness.It’simpossible,”Helensays.
There’sabriefscuffleandthensomeonesays,“No.”
MikeDunleavycomesontheline.“Now,lookhere—”hebeginsbutRachelcutshimoffimmediately.
“Putyourwifebackonthephonenoworyourdaughter’sdead,”Rachelsays.
“Iwanttoknowwho—”
“Putyourwifeonthephonenow,asshole!I’vegotagunpointedatAmelia’shead!”sheyells.
AsecondlaterHelencomesbackon.“I’msorry—”
“Youwillbesorry,youstupidbitch.Dowhatyou’resupposedtooryou’llneverseeAmeliaagain.Onceyouhavealistoftargets,sendittothecontactonWickrforfinalapproval,”Rachelsnarls,andshehangsup.
SheremovestheSIMcardandsmashesitandthephoneonthekitchenfloor.Sheputsthebrokenphoneinthegarbagebag.
Afewminuteslater,shemirrorstheDunleavys’homecomputeronPete’slaptopandsees,sureenough,thattheyaretrawlingthroughFacebookfeedsandInstagramaccounts.Yup,that’showyoudoitinthisdayandage.
Petecomesupstairs.“News?”
“Theypaidtheransom.”
“Theycouldaffordit.It’sthesecondpart…”
“Yeah.How’sourgirl?”
“She’sOK.StillwatchingDisneymovies.IpromisedtoplayOperationwithherlater.”
Rachelnodsabsently.
“Look,Rach,youcangohome,I’llbeOKhere,”Petesays.
“No,I’mstayingthenightwithAmelia,”Rachelinsists.
“Sheaskedmetostaytonight,notyou,”hesaysgently.
“Why’sthat?”
“She’sscaredofyou.”
“Oh.”
“It’sbetterifIstay.I’musedtoroughingit.Sleepingbagonthefloorisnoproblem.”
Rachelnods.“Iguessthat’sthewayitis,then.”
“Iguess.”
Theystareateachotherandsaynothing.Rachelobserveshim.Sheknowsthatsomethingisamissbutcannotputherfingeronit.Somethingtodowiththatbagofwhatmighthavebeendrugs?
“You’reOK,aren’tyou,Pete?”Rachelasks.
“I’mfine,”hesays.
“I’mreallyrelyingonyou,”shesays.
“I’mfine.Trustme,”hesays.
Peteknowsthatsheknows.It’stimeforhimtocookupagain.Heneedsit.Hisbodycravesit.Hehadthoughthemightusethisexperienceasawaytoforcehimselftoquit,butitisn’tthatsimple.There’sareasonit’scalledafix.
FinallyRachelstands.“Callme,”shesays.
“Iwill.”
Shegiveshimasadlittlewavegoodbyeandgoesout.
Thesealashesthedunes,andafreezing,bitterwindiscomingatRachelfromthenorth.Aslantwiserainisfalling,andlightningstabsattheDrySalvagesoffCapeAnn.
RachelgoeshomeandtakesaSamAdamsoutofthefridge.Thebeerisn’tcuttingit.Shepoursherselfhalfaglassofvodkaandtopsitupwithtonic.Shethinksaboutthefirstunknowncaller.Thatvoiceonthephone.Thatthingtheysaidaboutthelivingbeingonlyaspeciesofthedead.Itwasthekindofthingshe’dsaidtoherfriendswhenshewasafreshman.Ayoungperson’sideaofdepth.AsifwhoeverwasbehindTheChainwaspretendingtobeawisefifty-year-oldbutwasreallyaboutherownageoryounger.
Rachelwouldhavethoughtitwouldtakesomeonealifetimetogetthisevil,butno.Andwhataboutyouyourself,Rachel?Akidnapper,atorturerofchildren,anincompetentmom.Alloftheabove.AndyouknowinyourheartthatyouwouldhaveletAmeliadie.Theintentwasthereandthat’swhatcountsinmoralphilosophy,inlaw,andinlife.
Yourfallhasbeenvertiginousandswift.You’reinthecageplummetingtohell.Andit’sgoingtogetworse.Italwaysgetsworse.Firstcomesthecancer,thenthedivorce,thenyourdaughtergetskidnapped,thenyoubecomethemonster.
35
Sunday,2:17a.m.
MikeandHelenDunleavywereeverythingRachelhopedtheywouldbe.ForalltheirprocrastinationandpaniconSaturdaymorning,bySaturdayafternoontheyhadreallygottentheirshittogether.
TheychoseakidfromEastProvidencenamedHenryHogg,aboyinawheelchairwhosefatherwasajuniorvicepresidentofanoilcompany,sohecouldpay$150,000withoutsneezing.OnSaturdaynight,Henry’sfatherattendedaRotaryClubdinnerinBoston,andatnineo’clock,Henry’sstepmotherpickedHenryupfromhisfriend’shouse,threeblocksawayfromtheirs.ShestartedwheelinghimhomealonethroughthestreetsofProvidence.
TheDunleavysmadesurehenevergothome.
Kyliedoesn’tknowaboutanyofthis,butafewhoursaftermidnightonSunday,thebasementdooropensandthewoman—Heather—tellsKylietogetup.
Racheldoesn’tknowaboutthisuntilherphoneringsat2:17onSundaymorning.
She’sathome,curleduponthecouch,driftinginandoutofsleep.She’samess.She’sstoppedeating,stoppedshowering.Shecan’tsleepformorethanafewminutes.
Herheadthrobsconstantly.Herleftbreasthurts.
TheIChingisopennexttoheratthehexagramhsieh—deliverance.HerfingerslingerbythelineYoukillthreefoxesinthefieldandreceiveayellowarrow.Willtheyellowarrowbeasignthatherdaughterissafe?
Thephonecallstartlesheroutofhertorporandshegrabsthephonelikeit’salifevest.
UnknownCaller.
“Hello?”Rachelsays.
“Rachel,I’vegotsomeverygoodnewsforyou,”thewomanholdingKyliesays.
“Yes?”
“Kyliewillbereleasedwithinthehour.Shewillbegivenaburnerphoneandshe’llcallyou.”
Rachelburstsintotears.“OhGod!Areyouserious?”
“Yes.Andshe’sfine.She’scompletelyunharmed.Butyouhavetorememberthatyouandshearebothstillingravedanger.YouhavetokeepyourvictimuntilyougettheOKfromTheChain.Ifyouattempttodefect,theywillkillyou.RemembertheWilliamsfamily.TheymightordermetokillyouandKylie,andI’lldoittoprotectmyboy.IfIdon’tdoit,they’llgetthepeopleabovemeonTheChaintokillmeandyouandourkids.Theymeanit.They’retrulyevil.”
“Iknow,”Rachelreplies.
“ItwassotemptingformetoletKyliegowhenIgotmyboyhomesafe.Ijustwantedtobedonewiththewholebusiness,butIknewifIdidthat,sheandyouandmeandmysonwouldallbeinjeopardy.”
“Ipromiseyou,Iwon’tendangerus.Where’smyKylie?”
“We’regoingtoblindfoldheranddriveheraroundforforty-fiveminutesandthendropheroffnearareststop.We’llgiveheraphoneandshe’lltellyouwheresheis.”
“Thankyou.”
“Thankyou,Rachel,fornotscrewingup.Wewereveryunlucky,butit’sallovernow.Pleaseletitbeover,pleaseletthepeopleyou’remanagingnotscrewup.Goodbye,Rachel.”
Shehangsup.
RachelcallsPeteattheAppenzellers’andtellshimthenews.Peteisecstatic.“Ican’tbelieveit.Ihopeit’strue.”
“Ihopesotoo,”Rachelsays.“I’mpraying.”
“Metoo.”
“How’sAmelia?”
“She’ssleepingintheprincesstent.”
“Ibettergetofftheline.”
“Letmeknowwhat’shappening.”
Anhourgoesby.
Anhourandfifteenminutes.
Anhourandtwenty.
Onehourandtwenty-fiveminutes.
“Iwonderifsomethinghas—”
Rachel’siPhonebeginsringing.UnknownCaller
“Hello?”
“Mommy!”Kyliesays.
“Kylie,whereareyou?”
“Idon’tknow.Theytoldmetowaitoneminutetotaketheblindfoldoff.They’regonenowandI’mjustonaroadinthemiddleofnowhere.It’sdark.”
“Canyouseeanything?”
“Thereseemstobeabiggerroaddowntheway.”
“Walktowardit.Oh,Kylie,areyoureallyout?”
“Mommy,I’mout.Comeandgetme!”
“Whereareyou,darling?AssoonasIknowwhereyouare,Iwillcomeforyou.”
“IthinkIcanseeaDunkin’Donutssign.Yeah,there’saDunkin’Donuts.It’sagasstationreststop.Icanseeit!”
“Isitopen?”
“Yes,Ithinkso.”
“Gothereandaskthemwhereyouare.Don’thangup,becarefulcrossingtheroad,andjuststayontheline.”
“No,Igottahangup,theydidn’tchargethisphonealltheway,there’sonlyonerectangleleftinthebattery.I’llcallyoufromthegarage.”
“No!Kylie!Don’thangup!Please!”
Thelinegoesdead.
“No!”
Atensefiveminutesofsilencebeforeitringsagain.
“OK,Mom,I’monRoute101intheDunkin’DonutsbitofaSunocostation.”
“Whattown?”
“Idon’tknow,Mom,Idon’twanttoaskagain.Itseemsweirdshowingupatthistimeofthenightandnotknowingwhereyouare.”
“Jesus,Kylie,justaskthem.”
“Mom,listen,Googleit,I’minNewHampshireon101justoffI-95.”
RachelGooglesit.“IsittheSunoconearExeter?”
“Yes.There’sasignthatsaysExeter.”
“I’llbethereintwentyminutes!Canyouwaittwentyminutes?”
“OK,Mom.”
“Getadrinkofwaterifyoudon’thavemoneytobuyfood.”
“No,theygavememoney.I’llgetadoughnutandaCoke.Iaskedthemformyphoneandtheysaidtheydidn’thaveit.”
“Wefoundyourphone,”Rachelsays,runningouttothecar.
“Canyoubringit?”
“Later.I’minthecarnow.”
“WhatdidyoutellStuart?”Kylieasks.
“ItoldStuartyouweresickandItoldyourfatheryouhadgonetoNewYork.OhmyGod,Kylie,isitreallyyou?Didyoureallycomebacktome?”
“It’sreallyme,Mom.I’mhungry.I’mgoingtogetadoughnut.Maybeacoupleofthem.I’mhanginguptogetadoughnut,Mom,”Kyliesays.
“Don’thangup!I’llbethereinaminute,”RachelsaysbutKylieisgoneagain.
I-95isonlyafewminutesawayandRacheltearsupitateightymilesanhour,prettymuchtheVolvo’smaximumvelocity.
GoogleMapstakeshertothe101turnoffandthererightinfrontofheristheSunocostation.
KylieissittinginthewindowseatoftheDunkin’Donutsbyherself.Herbrownhair,herfrecklyface,thelittlesilverheadband.It’sreallyher!
Shelookssosmallandfrailundertheharshlights.
“Kylie!”Rachelscreams.SheslidestheVolvointoaparkingspot,opensthedoor,andrunsin.
Theyhugeachotherandburstintotears.
Kylieiscrying.Racheliscrying.
It’sreal.
It’sactuallyreal.
Herlittlegirlbackagain.TheIChingpromisedayellowarrowwhenitwouldallbeover.
There’snoyellowarrowanywhere,butKylieisbackwithherintheworld.
Thankyou,God.Thankyou,God.Thankyou.
“Oh,Mommy,IthoughtIwasnevergoingtoseeyouagain,”Kyliesays.
Rachelcan’tbelieveit.Sheisn’tsuretheworldisbigenoughtocontainthereliefandgladnessshefeels.“IknewI’dseeyouagain!IknewI’dgetyouback,”Rachelrepliesandholdsherclose.Soclose.Herlittlegirlsmellslikeherlittlegirl.She’stremblingandcold.Shemustbehungryandso,soscared.
Thetearsflow.
Riversofreliefandhappiness.
Aweird,unbalanced,off-kilterkindofjoy.
“Areyouhungry?”Rachelasks.
“No.IateadoughnutandthepeoplefedmewhileIwasthere.”
“Whatdidtheyfeedyou?”
“Normalstuff.Cereal.Grahamcrackers.”
“Comeon,let’sgetoutofhere.I’lltakeyouhome.UnclePete’shere.”
“UnclePete?”
“Yeah,he’sbeenhelpingmeout.”
“Youdidn’ttellDad?”
“No.”
“’CauseofTammy?”
Rachelnods.
“TheytoldmethatifIsaidanything,wecouldallbeindanger,”Kyliesays.
“That’swhattheytoldme.Comeon,letmetakeyouhome.”
“Ineedtogotothebathroom,”Kyliesays.
“I’llgowithyou.”
“No,Mom,no.I’llbeOK.”
“I’mnotgoingtoletyououtofmysight.”
“Mom,I’mnothavingyougointothebathroomwithme.I’llbeoneminute.”
RachelwalkshertotheDunkin’Donutsbathroomandstandsoutsidethedoor.It’soneofthoseunisex,single-persontoiletssothere’snowaythere’ssomeoneintherewho’sgoingtodragKylieoutawindoworanything,butstill,Rachelhatestolosevisualcontactwithherforevenafewseconds.
Themiddle-agedcashiercatcheshereye.
“Issheyours?”thewomanasks.
“Yes.”
“Iwasjustgonnacallthecops.Ithoughtshewasarunaway.”
RachelsmilesandtextsPetethatKylieissafe.
“Yougottakeepaneyeonthemwhentheystarthittingtheirteens,”thecashiersays.“It’sadifficultage.Ishouldknow.Fourdaughters.”
“Thisoneismywholeworld,”Rachelreplies.
Thewomannods.“Youcan’tletthemoutofyoursight.”
“Youcansaythatagain.”
KyliecomesoutofthebathroomandRachelhugsher.Theyleavethegasstationhandinhand.
“Iwanttohavealong,hotshowerwhenIgethome,”Kyliesaysastheygetinthecar.
“Ofcourse.Anythingyouwant.”
“Ifeeldirty.”
“AreyouOK?Didtheytouchyou?Hurtyou?”
“No…yes.Themanyesterday.Whatdayisit?”
“Sundaymorning,Ithink.”
“Itriedtoescapeandheslappedme,”Kyliesaysmatter-of-factly.
“OhmyGod.Hehityou?”Rachelasks.
“Yes.Andthefunnythingwas,hewasn’tthebadone.Shewasthebadone.Shewassoscary,”Kyliesaysandstartscryingagain.
Rachelhugshertightly.
“Comeon,let’sgo,Iwanttogohome.IwanttoseemycatandUnclePete,”Kyliesays.
Rachelstartsthecarandturnsonthelightsanddrivessouth.
“There’ssomethingelse,Mom,”Kyliesays.
“What?”Rachelasks,expectingtheworst.
“I’mnotreallysurebutIthinkmaybetheyshotacop.WewerepulledoverbyastatetrooperandIthinktheyshothim.”
Rachelnods.“IthinktherewerereportsofaNewHampshirestatetrooperbeingshotonThursdaymorning.”
Kyliegasps.“Didhedie?”
“I’mnotsure,”Rachellies.
“Wehavetogotothepolice,”Kyliesays.
“No!It’stoodangerous.They’llkillusall.They’llhuntusdownandgetus.You,me,Pete,yourfather,allofus.Wecan’tsayordoanything,Kylie.”
“Sowhatdowedo?”
“Wedon’tdoanything.Wekeepquietandtrytoputthisbehindus.”
“No!”
“Wehaveto,Kylie.I’msorry,butit’stheonlyway.”
WhentheyarrivebackonPlumIslandtenminuteslater,Peteiswaitingforthem.HehugsKyliewhenshegetsoutofthecarandthenliftsherupandspinsheraround.
“Honey,you’resafe!”hesaysandhelpsherinside.
ElijumpsupontothesofanexttoKylieandshepickshimupandkisseshim.
“How’s…”RachelwhisperstoPete.
“Sleeping.I’llgobackthereinfive.Ijustwantedtoseeyouguys,”Petereplies.
“UnclePete,”Kyliesaysandputsherarmsoutforanotherhug.
RachelsitsononesideofherandPetesitsontheother.Elinestlesinherlap.It’samiracle,that’swhatitis,Rachelthinks.Sometimeskidsdocomeback,butoftentheydonot,especiallygirls.
“Doyouknoweverythingthat’shappened?”KylieasksPete.
“Yeah,I’vebeenhelpingyourmom.”
“Grouphug,”Kyliesays,cryingagain.
Peteputshisarmsaroundbothofthem.
“Ican’tbelieveit,”Kyliesays.“IthoughtIwasgoingtobedownthereforamillionyears.”
TheyallsitthereforafewminutesbeforeKylielooksupandgrinsatthetwoofthem.“I’mhungry,”shesays.
“Anythingyoulike,”Racheltellsher.
“Pizza.”
“I’llmicrowaveonerightnow.”
Shetriestogetupandgotothekitchen,butKyliewon’treleaseher.
“AreyouOK,Kylie?”Peteasks.“Didtheyhurtyou?”
“ThemanhitmeafterIhithimandtriedtoescape.Itreallyhurt,”Kyliesays.
“Shit,”Petesays,hisfistsclenchingbyhissides.
“Youmusthavebeenterrified,”Rachelsays.
KyliespeaksandPeteandRachellisten.
Shetellsthemeverything.
Theyletherwordsspillout.Ifshewantstotalkaboutit,they’lllethertalk.Kylieisn’tonewhoclamsup,andforthisRachelisgrateful.Shestrokesherdaughter’shairandsmilesatherbravery.
SheheatsthepizzawhilePetegoesbacktotheAppenzellers’tocheckonAmelia.
Kyliegoesuptoherbedroomtoseeallherstuff.
“Mom,canItextwithStuartandallmyfriendsnow?WouldthatbeOK?”Kylieasks.
“Yes,butyouhavetotellhimthatyouhadastomachbug,OK?”
“OK,Iguess.AndwhatdoItellDad?”
“Oh,crap,that’sawholething.YouhavetotellyourfatherthatyouwenttoNewYork,”Rachelsays,andsheexplainsthesituationwithherfatherandTammyandhergrandmother.
“Ineedmyphone!”
Rachelgetsthephone.“Icouldn’tfake-textforyoubecauseIdidn’tknowyourpasscode.”
“It’ssoobvious:two-one-nine-four.”
“What’sthat?”
“HarryStyles’sbirthday!OhmyGod,Ihaveamillionmessages.”
“Youhavetotellpeopleyouweresick.”
“Iwill.ButIwanttogotoschoolMonday.Whatdayisittomorrow?”
“Monday.”
“Iwannagotoschool.”
“Idon’tthinkthat’sagoodidea.Iwantyoutogetcheckedoutbyadoctor.”
“I’mfine.Iwanttogotoschool!Iwanttoseeeverybody.”
“Areyousure?”
“Idon’twanttobecoopedupinahouseagain.”
“Well,noschoolbus,notanymore.Idon’tknowwhatIwasthinking.”
“Hey,where’smystuffedbunny?Where’sMarshmallow?”Kylieasks.
“I’llgetMarshmallowbackforyoutonight.”
“He’snotlost?”
“No.”
Kyliesendstextstoherfriends,whoareprobablyallsleeping.SheandRachellieinbedandwatchherfavoriteYouTubeclips:A-Ha’s“TakeOnMe”video,theMontyPythonfish-slappingdance,halfadozenvideosfromtherapgroupBrockhampton,thebitinDuckSoupwhereGrouchoissuspiciousofhisownreflection.
Kylieshowersandasksforsomealonetime,andwhenRachelgoestocheckonherhalfanhourlater,sheisfastasleep.Rachelcollapsesonthecouchandweeps
Petecomesbackatsixinthemorningandputsacoupleoflogsonthefire.“EverythingOKoverthere?”Rachelasks.
“Ameliaisstillasleep.”
Petemakesapotofcoffeeandtheysitbythefire.
Everythingseemsbacktothewayitwasbefore.FishingboatsheadingoutintotheMerrimack.BernsteinonWCRB.TheGlobearrivinginitsplasticwrapinfrontofthehouse.
“Ican’tbelieveshe’shome,”Rachelsays.“ThereweretimeswhenIthoughtI’dlostherforever.”
Theywatchthelogswhitenandslowlyturntoash.Rachel’sphonerings.UnknownCaller.Sheanswersitonspeaker.
It’sthedistortedvoice.ItisTheChainspeakingdirectlytoher:“Iknowwhatyou’rethinking.It’swhateveryonethinkswhentheygettheirlovedonesback.Youthinkyoucanreleaseyourhostageandendthis.Butthethingis,youcan’tfighttradition.Doyouknowwhatatraditionis,Rachel?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Atraditionisalivingargument.Alivingargumentforapracticethatbeganalongtimeago.Anditworksforourparticulartradition.IfyoumesswithTheChain,itwillbesuretogetyouandyourfamily.Leavethecountry,gotoSaudiArabiaorJapanorwherever.Changeyourname,changeyouridentity.We’llalwaysfindyou.”
“Igetit.”
“Doyougetit?Ihopeso.Becauseit’snotover.Itwon’tbeoveruntilthepeopleyou’verecruiteddowhatthey’resupposedtodowithoutscrewingupandtheonesthey’verecruiteddotheirjobwithoutscrewingup.Wehaven’thadadefectioninTheChainforafewyearsnow,buttheyhappen.Peoplethinktheycanbeatthesystem.Theycan’t.Noonecan,andyou’renotgoingto.”
“TheWilliamsfamily.”
“Thereareotherswhohavetried.Noonehaseversucceeded.”
“I’mgoingtokeepmyword.”
“Besurethatyoudo.Weputtenthousanddollarsinyourbankaccountthismorning—that’stenpercentofthemoneytheDunleavyspaid.WetookitoutofthesameBitcoinaccounttheyputtheirmoneyinto.Idon’tknowhowyouwouldeverexplainthattothefederalauthorities.Evenifyousomehowescapedourassassins,whichnooneeverhas,we’dreleaseallthisinformationandyou’dgotoprison.Theevidenceisalltheretorevealyouasthegeniusbehindasophisticatedkidnappingring.You’resmart.Youcanseethebigpicture,can’tyou?”
“Yes,Ican.”
“Good,”thevoicesays.“Weprobablywon’tspeakagain.Goodbye,Rachel,it’sbeenapleasuredoingbusinesswithyou.”
“Ican’tsaythesame.”
“Itcouldhavebeenworse.Itcouldhavebeenalotworse.”
Whenthecallends,RachelshuddersandPeteputshisarmsaroundher.She’ssopaleandthinandfragile,andherheartisbeatingsofast.Likeawoundedbirdthatyouputinashoeboxandnursebacktolife,hopingthatonedayitwillbeabletoflyagain.
36
Sunday,4:00p.m.
Kyliefinallycomesdownthestairs.She’sgotheriPadinonehand,herphoneintheother,andElioverhershoulder.
“IhadoverahundredandfiftyFacebook,Instagram,andTwitternotifications,”Kyliesays,tryingtosoundupbeat.
Rachelsmiles.Somuchforherideaofgoingfulltinfoilhatandkillingsocialmedia.Kyliereturnshermother’ssmile.Bothofusfakingitforeachother,Rachelthinks.“You’reapopulargirl,”shesays.
“ItalkedtoStuart.Everybodyseemstohaveboughtthewholesicknessstory.AndItextedGrandmatoo.She’sfine.Ievene-mailedDad.”
“I’msorryImadeyoudothat.”
Kylienodsanddoesn’tsayIt’sOKbecauseit’snotOKtomakeyourdaughterlietoherfriendsandfamily.
“Youwerecarefulwhatyousaid?”
“Iwas.”
“Ifyousayonethingonsocialmedia,thewholeworldsees.”
“Iknow,Mom.Ican’tevertellanyone,canI?”
“No…areyouOK,mydarling?”Rachelasks,strokingKylie’sface.
“Notreally,”Kyliesays.“Iwassoscareddownthere.ThereweretimeswhenIthoughtIwasgoingto—Idon’tknow—disappear?Youknowthatthingwheresomepeoplethinkthatifotherpeopleleavetheroom,theyjustdon’texistanymore.”
“Solipsism?”
“That’swhatIthoughtwashappeningtomedownthereinthebasement.IthoughtthatIwasstartingnottoexistbecausenoonewasthinkingaboutme.”
Rachelhugshertight.“AllIdidwasthinkaboutyou!Everyminuteofeverysecondofeveryday.”
“AndthenthereweretimeswhenIthoughtthatmaybethosetwowouldjustleavemethere.Maybeiftheythoughtthey’dbeendiscovered,they’dgo,andthefoodwouldrunoutandthewaterwouldrunoutandIwouldjustdie.”
“Iwouldn’thaveletthathappen,”Rachelsays.“Iwouldn’t.Iwouldhavefoundyounomatterwhat.”
KylienodsbutRachelseesthatshedoesn’tbelieveit.Howwouldshehavefoundher?Shewouldn’thavefoundher.Herdaughterwouldhavebeentrappeddownthereforever.
Kyliewalkstothescreendoorandlooksoutatthebasin.
“Yourflip-flopsareonomatopoeia-ing,”Rachelsays,tryingtoshiftthemood.
Kylieturnstofaceher.“Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“Theyexplainedtomethattheycouldn’treleasemeuntilyoucontinuedTheChain.”
Rachellooksatthefloor.
“Mom?”
Rachelswallowshard.Shecan’tlieaboutthis—itwouldmakeeverythingworse.“That’sright,”shesays.
“So,wait,didyou…haveyou…”Kylieasks,horrified.
“I’msorry.I,I,Ihadto.”
“Youkidnappedsomeone?”
“Ihadto.”
“Youstillhavethem?”
“Yes.Ican’treleasethemuntilTheChaincontinues.”
“OhmyGod!”Kyliesays,hereyeswide.“Where?”
“Wefounda…Ifoundanemptyhouseontheothersideofthebasin.Ahousewithabasement.”
“They’reoverthererightnow?Alone?”
“That’swherePeteis.”
“Isitaboyoragirl?”
“Thelessyouknow,thebetter.”
“Iwanttoknow!”
“Agirl,”Rachelsays,feelinggreatwavesofshamecoursethroughher.
Agreatriverofshameasbrownasshit.
“Can’tyoujustlethergo?”
Rachelfightshergagreflexandtheflightresponseandforcesherselftoconfrontthepresentreality.ShelooksKylieintheeyeandshakesherhead.
“C—can’twegototheFBIandhavethemhideusandgiveusnewidentitiesorsomethinglikethat?”Kylieasks.
“It’snotsosimple.We’ve—I’ve—actuallykidnappedsomeone.They’llsendmetojail.Andyouwon’tbesafe.IbelievethemwhentheysaythatTheChainhasneverbeensuccessfullybroken.Ithinkthey’llfinduswhereverwego.Ican’ttakethatrisk.”
“CanIseethegirl?CanItalktoher?”
RachelshuddersatthethoughtofdraggingKyliedeeperintothis.“No,yougobacktoschool.We’llhandlethis.MeandPete.”
“What’shername?”
“It’sbestthatyoudon’tknow.”
“DoesshehaveMarshmallow?”
“Yes.”Racheltriestohugher,butKyliepushesheraway.
“Don’ttouchme!”Kyliesays.
“IcangetMarshmallowback.I—”
“That’snotthepoint!It’snotaboutMarshmallow.It’saboutwhatyou’vedone.Howcouldyoukidnapsomeone,Mom?Howcouldyoudothat?”
“Idon’tknow.Ihadto.”
“Didyouhurther?”
“No.Notreally,”Rachelsays,againswimminginthatriverofliesandshame.
“Howcouldyoudothat,Mom?”
“Idon’tknow.”
Kylietakesastepbackandthenanotheruntilshebumpsintothescreendoor.
Rachellooksathergrubbyfingernailsandcatchesaglimpseofherselfintheglass.She’slikesomeskinny,derangedprophettryingtobringasuddenlyclear-mindedformerfollowerbackintothefold.No,she’snot.It’sworsethanthat.She’sademon,draggingherdaughterdownwithherintothepit.She’stheoppositeofgoodandkindDemeter.ShehasmadeKylielie.She’smadeherapartytoacrime.Thisfissurebetweenthemwillwidenintoagulf.Nothingwilleverbethesameagain.
ShelooksintoKylie’sbetrayed,tearyeyes.
Rachelimaginesasulfurousreektotheair.No,theyarenotyetescapedfromhell.Theescapewilltakemonths,perhapsyears.
Kyliebeginstosob.“Youhadtodoittogetmeback?”
“Yes.”
“YouandUnclePete?”
“Yes.”
Kylieslidesopenthedoor,andacoldwindblowsinfromthebasin.
“Canwegooutside?”Kylieasks.
“It’sfreezing.”
“Wecanwrapourselvesinthecomforter.Idon’twanttobeinside.”
Theygoontothedeck.
“CanIholdyou?”Rachelaskstentatively.
“Yes,”ameekKylieresponds.
Kyliesitsonhermother’slapintheAdirondackchair,wrappedinablanket,thelongtieofRachel’srobethreadedaroundthemlikeanumbilical.Theydon’ttalk.Theyjustsitthere.
ThedaydwindlestoanendinalineofredsandyellowsalongtheMerrimackValley.Itgrowsdark,andwhenthestarscomeout,motheranddaughterareswallowedupbythenight.Whatisgoingtobealong,terriblenightindeed.
37
Sunday,10:45p.m.
Herinstinct’sright.TheChainisscrewingup.Well,herinstinctispartiallyright.Theproblem,however,isnotRachelKlein.AndtheproblemisnotHelenDunleavy.TheproblemisSeamusHogg.Usingstandardspywaretech,shehasmirroredtheHoggs’phonesandreadSeamus’se-mails.Seamuse-mailedhisuncle,aguynamedThomasAndersonHogg,wholivesinStamford,Connecticut,andaskedhimiftheycouldmeetataStarbucksinStamfordtomorrowmorningatten.
ThisisabigproblembecauseThomasAndersonHoggisaretiredU.S.marshal.
Seamusisgoingtorat.
AndnoteventothecopsbuttothegoddamnU.S.MarshalsService.
ShelooksatthedataonRachelagain.Anuninterestingbutsurprisinglycompetentlinksofar.Shehasdoneeverythingright.Paidtheransomfast,paidtheincreasedransomfast,carriedoutasuccessfulkidnap.
Sheiscapableandgood.Herex-brother-in-lawishelpingher.Anotherinterestingdude.HonorablydischargedfromtheMarinesbuthehadtakensomeheatfortheSeptember2012CampBastionincident.Nopension.OnlytheminimumVAbenefits.ArrestedinWorcester,Massachusetts,in2017forpossessionofonegramofbrown-tarheroin.Chargessubsequentlydropped.Themugshotisofahaunted,dour,prematurelymiddle-aged-lookingman.
Istheex-husbandhelpingtoo?
SheGooglesRachel’sex-husband,MartyO’Neill.
Now,that’sagood-lookingguy.Averygood-lookingguyindeed.She’ssurprisedshehasn’tcomeacrosshimbefore.ThepoolofeligiblebachelorsinBostonisremarkablyshallow.Harvardgrad,lawyer,datingsomedrippyblonde.BorninWorcester,livesinBoston,isapartneratthewhite-shoelawfirmofBannerandWitcoff.Yeah,he’sthebrainsofthefamily.
Well,let’sseehowtheycollectivelyhandlealittlecurveball.
ShelogsintotheWickrappandmessagesRachel:
SeamusHoggisdefecting.Heisgoingtorat.Hee-mailedhisuncle,aretiredU.S.marshal,andhe’smeetinghimtomorrowattena.m.inStamford,Connecticut.Obviously,thismeetingcannotbeallowedtotakeplace.TheDunleavyshavescrewedup.Theyhavepickedanunreliabletarget.Andtheirscrewupisyourscrewup,Rachel.KillyourhostageandpickanothertargetorstopthismeetingandremindtheDunleavysandtheHoggsthattheyarepartofTheChain.Ifyoudoneitherofthesethings,theblowbackwillcomeforyouandyourfamily.Weknowwhereyoulive.Thereisnowhereyoucangowherewewillnotfindyou.
38
Sunday,10:59p.m.
BlackAtlantic.Blacksky.Adustingofdrabstars.RachelissittingonthedecksmokingacigarettewhentheWickrapponherphonesoundsanalert.Amessageforher.
Shereadsit,digestsit,goesintopanicmode,calmsherself,getsaburnerphone,callsPeteattheAppenzellers’,andreadshimthemessage.
“Aren’ttheDunleavyssupposedtotakecareofthis?”heasks.
“TheChainbastardscontactedme.Thisistheblowbacktheyweretalkingabout,Pete.IftheHoggsscrewitallup,thatmeanstheDunleavyshavescrewedup,andI’msupposedtokillAmeliaandpickanewtargetorthey’llcomeforme.”
“Waitthere.I’llberightover,”Petesays.“Amelia’sasleep.”
RacheldialsHelenDunleavy’snumberbutthephoneringsandringsandeventuallygoestovoicemail.Shedialsagain,butnooneanswers.Shewaitsaminuteanddialsathirdtime,butstillnothing—eitherthestupidbitchisdeadorshe’sturnedherphoneoff.
TheirPCisofftoo.Therearenotracesfromanyoftheirelectronicdevices.What’shappenedtothem?Whatthehell?
ShesignsintoWickrandsendsamessageto2348383hudykdy2:Dunleavysnotansweringphone.
There’sanimmediateresponse:That’snotourproblem,Rachel.That’syourproblem.
AminutelaterPetearrives.“WhatdidtheDunleavyssay?”heasks.
“Noanswer.Thestupidbastardshavetheirphoneturnedoff.”
“Sowhatarewegoingtodo?”
“I’mnotgoingtokillAmeliaandstartagain.”
“Ofcoursenot.”
PetehopesthatRacheldoesn’tnoticehisglazedeyes.Heshotupaboutfifteenminutesearlier.He’dthoughttheyweredoneforthenight,andhisbodywascravingopiates.HehadtogiveinandshootupintheAppenzellers’kitchen.
“Pete?”Rachelsays.
“I’moutofideas,”herepliesdully.
“WegodowntotheDunleavys’now,tonight,andwetellthemtheyhavetogettheirboyinline.”
“Callthemup.”
“I’vecalledthem!They’renotanswering.Aren’tyoulistening?”
“Whodoesn’tleavethephoneonwhentheirdaughter’sbeenkidnapped?”Petewonders.
“Maybethey’realreadydead.Maybetheblowbackhaskilledthemandwe’regoingtobenext,”Rachelsays.
“Theymightbecomingforusrightnow.”
“We’llbringKylietotheAppenzellers’house.Nobodyknowsaboutthatplaceexceptus,”Rachelsays.
“I’llgetthingsready.”
RachelgoestoKylie’sroom.She’sstillawakeandonheriPad.“I’msorry,honey,butit’snotsafeforyoutobeheretonight.Something’shappeningwithTheChain.”
Kylieisterrified.“What?Aretheycomingforus?”
“No.Notyet.Ihavetosortsomethingout.I’mgoingtotakeyouovertotheAppenzellers’.You’llbesafethere.”
“They’recomingbackforme,aren’tthey?”
“No.It’snotthat.You’resafe.It’sfine.It’sjustaprecaution.YourunclePeteandIaregoingtotakecareofeverything.Comeon,packabag.”
RachelandKyliedriveovertotheAppenzellers’andslipintheback.Peteiswaitinginthekitchenwithhis.45andRachel’sshotgun.
Kylielooksattheweapons,swallows,thengivesPeteahug.
“Isthelittlegirlhere?”Kylieasks.
Rachelnods.
“Whereisshe?”
“Basement.Asleep,”Petesays.
“PeteandIhavetogoout.Ameliaprobablywon’twakeup,butifyouneedtogodownthere,putthison,”Rachelsays,givingherablackskimask.
“Soshecan’tidentifyme,”Kyliesays,fascinatedandappalled.
“Iwasprayingyouwouldn’tgetfurtherinvolved,butifAmeliastartstocry,Iguessyou’llhavetogodownthereandcomforther,”Rachelsays.“Wecan’thavehermakingtoomuchnoise.”
“Ithinkshe’llsleepuntilmorning,though.Ihadherskippingropeforanhour,”Petesays.
“Whereareyouguysgoingtobe?”Kylieaskshermom.
“PeteandIhavetogodealwithanemergency.”
“Whatsortofemergency?”
“It’sOK,honey,it’snotbad,butbothofushavetogoandyou’llhavetostayherewithAmelia.”
“Youneedtotellmewhat’shappening!”
Rachelnods.Shedeservedthat.“OneofthefamiliesfartherdownTheChainisthinkingaboutgoingtothepolice.Wehavetostopthem.Iftheygotothepolice,wecouldallbeindanger.”
“Sowhereareyougoing?”
“Providence.”
“You’regoingdowntheretotellthemtopaytheransomanddoeverythingyoudid?”
“Yes.”
“Whatifyou…whatifyoudon’tcomeback?”
“Ifwe’renotbackbymorning,callyourfathertocomeandgetyou.Stayinthishouse.Don’tgohome.Whenhegetshere,tellhimeverything.Keepyourphoneturnedoffuntilthen.”
Kylienodssolemnly.“Whattimeinthemorning?”
“Ifyouhaven’theardfromeitherofusby,say,eleven,itprobablymeanswe’vebeencompromised,”Petesays.
“Dead?”Kylieasks,herliptrembling.
“Notnecessarily.Justthatsomething’sgoingwrong,”Rachelsays,althoughshethinksdeadisthemostlikelyscenario.
KyliehugshermomandPete.“I’llbeOK,”shesays.“AndI’llkeepaneyeonher.”
Herdaughterisnowco-optedintoakidnappingscheme.Rachelfeelsmortifiedandangry.Butshecan’tindulgethesefeelingsforverylong.Theclockisticking.Shewipesthetearsfromhercheeks.“Let’sgetthisshowontheroad,then,”shesaystoPete.“I’lldrive.”
39
Sunday,11:27p.m.
Swamptotheleft,marshtotheright.Highbeamontheheadlights.Smellofgunoil,sweat,fear.Nobodytalking.Racheldriving.Peteliterallyridingshotgun.
Beverly,Mass.
Oldwoodenhouses.Oaktrees.Theoccasionalapartmentbuilding.Quiet.BluelightfromTVsandburglaralarms.
Suburban-nighttimeennui.Whichisgood.Fewerbusybodiesonthesidewalks.
PoseidonStreet.
ThelightsareoffintheDunleavyhouse.
“Drivearoundtheblock,”Petesays.“Don’tstop.”
Racheldoesandthenparksonestreetover.
Quiettown.Noonearound.Onlyonequestion:Whywon’tHelenDunleavyanswerhergoddamnphone?
Rachelhasanimageoftheentirefamilytiedtochairsinthekitchenwiththeirthroatscut.
“Wecangointhroughthoselittlescrubbywoodsnextdoortotheirhouse,”Petesays.“Andtheninthroughthebackdoor.”
“How?”Rachelasks.
Peteholdsupawrenchandalock-pickkit.“Ifwe’redefinitelygoingtodothis,”hesays.
“Yeah.We’repotcommitted,”shereplies.
Potcommittedisthepolitewayofputtingit.She’sgoingtohavetogofull-onLadyMacbethnow.Actit.Believeit.Beit.ForPete,forherself,forKylie—thelivesofherfamilyareatstake.
“I’vegotanEM-pulsekittobafflethealarmsystemifthereisanalarmsystem.Oncewe’rein,weusehandguns,”hesays,handingherhisglove-compartment.38revolver.He’salsogota.45anda9-millimeter.
Theguns.Thescrubbywood.
PetestrugglestogetovertheDunleavys’northfence.Rachelstaresathim.Whatisthematterwithhim?Shewondersagainifhe’sonsomethingorifhe’shadaninjuryhehasn’ttoldherabout.Sheneedshimtobe100percent.
“AreyouOK,Pete?”shesaysseverely.
“Yeah!I’mfine.AreyouOK?”
Sheglaresathiminthedarkness.
“Weshouldprobablygetmoving,right?”hesays.
“Sure.”
TheDunleavys’backyard.Toys,lawnfurniture,aswing.Thebackdoor,whichleadstothekitchen.
“Comeon,”Rachelsays.
Flashlightson.EM-pulsekiton.
Petefiddleswiththelock.There’salittletremorinhisrighthand.
“Canyougetit?”
“Yeah.Donethisbefore.Itwillnotresistmyattentionsforlong,trustme,”hesays.
Threeminutes.Fourminutes.
“Areyousure?”
Thedoorfinallyunlocks.Peteturnsthehandle.Thereisnosafetychain.Noburglaralarmgoesoff.
“AreweOK?”Rachelasks.
“Yeah.”
Theyputontheirskimasksandenterthekitchen.Racheldartsherflashlightaroundtheroom.
Nodeadbodies.Noassassins.
“Doweknowwherewe’regoing?”Rachelwhispers.
“Yes,”Petesays.“Followme.”
ShefollowsPeteupstairs.
Carpetonfloor.Picturesonwall.Abigclockatthetopofthesteps.Amirrorthatscaresherforasecwhensheseesapersonwithaguninit.
“Firstbedroomontheleft,”Petehisses.
Throughthebedroomdoor.Bodyodor.Smellofbooze.Awomansnoringonthebed.Flashlightintothecorners.Nooneelsethere.Petetiptoestothebed,kneelsbesidethewoman,andputshishandoverhermouth.SheyelpsunderPete’shandandheholdsherdown.
RachelcheckstheensuitebathroomwhilePetesmothershercrieswithhisbigpaw.
“It’sclear,”Rachelsays.
“AreyouHelenDunleavy?”Peteasks.“Justnodyourresponse.”
Shenods.
“Where’syourhusband?”Peteasks.“One-wordanswer.Thenameofaroom.Whisperit.Ifyou’reloud,you’redead.”
“Basement,”Helencroaks.
“Itriedtophoneyou.Doyourecognizemyvoice?”Rachelasks.
“You’vegotAmelia,”Helensaysandbeginstocry.
“Where’sthekid?HenryHogg?”Rachelasks.
“Basement.”
“Withyourhusband?”
“Wetaketurnsto—”
RachelglancesatPete.“Bringthehusbanduphere.I’llstaywiththisone.”
Sheswitchesonthebedroomlightandpointsthe.38atHelenwhilePetegoesdownstairs.
“Whathappenedtoyourphone?”Rachelasks,seething.“Whyisn’titon?Whyaren’tyousleepingwithitunderyourpillowlikeanormalpersonwouldinthissituation?”
“I,I,Idon’tknow.Isn’titoverthereonthedresser?”Helenasks.Herfacelookshaggard,frightened.Hereyesareredandhollow.Atleastthat’ssomething.
Rachellooksatthedresser.Thephone’sdead.“Youforgottochargeit,”shesays.
“I—Ididn’tknow.”
“Sleepingwhileyourdaughter’sahostage?Whatisyourgoddamnedproblem?”
“I,Iwasjusttakinga—”shebeginswhenthebedroomdooropens.
MikeDunleavywalksinwithhishandsup.Hedoesn’tresemblehisphotosonlineoronFacebook.Helooksmucholder,grayer,fatter,stupider.Isn’thesupposedtobesomekindofsmartguywithmoney?Helookslikeeverydumbdadpickinghiskidsuplatefromschoolbecauseheforgotitwashisdaytogetthem.Nowondertheseclownsscreweditup.Howdidtheyeverkidnapanybody?Maybetheyevenliedaboutthat.
“Isthekidinthebasement?”RachelasksPete.
“Ohyes,”Petesaysandheletsoutakindofhalfwhistleasiftosayitisn’taprettysightdownthere.
“You’retheonesthattookAmelia?”MikeaskswithjustatraceofanEnglishaccent.
“Wehaveher.”
“IssheOK?”Helenasksdesperately.
“She’sfine.We’relookingafterher.”
“Whyareyouhere?”Mikesays.“We’vedoneeverythingyou’veasked.”
“No.Youscrewedup.Wetriedtocallyou,butyourphonewasdeadandyourcomputerwasturnedoff,”Rachelsays.
Helenislookingatherstrangelynow.Ifshesayssomethinglike“IthinkIknowwhoyouare,”then,JesusChrist,I’mgoingtohavetoshootheronthespot,Rachelthinks.
“ThisisabouttheHoggs,isn’tit?”Helensays.“They’vedonesomething.”
“It’swhatthey’reabouttodo,”Petesays.
“OhGod!Whataretheyabouttodo?”Helenasks.
“SeamushasanuncleintheU.S.MarshalsService.Andhe’sgoingtogoseehimtomorrowinStamford,”Rachelinformsher.
“Wh—whatdoesthatmean?”Helenasks,appalled.
“Intheory,itmeansyouhavetokilllittleHenryandstartagainorelsewehavetokillAmeliaandstartagain.Simpleasthat.I’mnothavingTheChaincomenearmeormyfamily.Isthatunderstood?”Rachelsnarls.
“Theremustbesomeother—”Mikebegins.
“Thereis.ThethreeofusdrivedowntoProvidenceandexplainthingstoMr.Hogginperson,”Rachelsays.
“Thethreeofus?”Peteinquires.
“Thethreeofus,”Rachelinsists.“Can’ttrusttheseclowns.”
SheturnstoHelen.“You’llstayandwatchthekid.Yourhusbandwillcomewithus.We’lltakeyourcar.It’saBMW,isn’tit?”
“Yeah,”Mikesays.
“Shouldbefastenough.Putsomegoddamnshoeson.Oh,andgofindMr.Boo.WeneedMr.Boo,”Rachelsays.
“Mr.Boo?”Mikewonders.
“Amelia’sbear.Shewantsit.”
HelengetsMr.Boo.
“IfyoucallthecopsorwarntheHoggsordoanythingstupidwhilewe’reout,Amelia’sdead.They’llkillherandthenthey’llcomeforyouandToby.Doyouunderstand?”Rachelsays.
Helennods.
TheygooutsidetoMike’sBMW,alarge,blacktop-of-the-linejob.ThekindtheygivetobigearnersatStandard.Plush.Comfortable.Fast.
MikehandsRachelthekeys.Shegetsinthedriver’sseat.
PetegetsinthebackwithMike.
Sheturnsthekeyintheignitionandthecargrowlstolife.
Shelooksintherearview.Pete’sstillabitdazed.Mike’sshittinghimself.Shecanhandlebothofthem.Shewillhandlebothofthem.
“Buckleup,”shesays.
40
Sunday,11:59p.m.
Shemergeswiththetraffic.
Thehighwayhums.Thehighwaysings.Thehighwayluminesces.
Itisanaddermovingsouth.
Dieselandgasoline.
Waterandlight.
Sodiumfilamentandneon.
Interstate95atmidnight.America’sspinalcord,splicinglifelinesanddestiniesandunrelatednarratives.
Thehighwaydrifts.Thehighwaydreams.Thehighwayexaminesitself.
Allthosethreadsoffateweavingtogetheronthiscoldmidnight.
Townsandexitsglidingsouth,shuttingdownotherpossibilities,otherpaths.Peabody.Newton.Norwood.
TheGooglemapmakingitsownzodiac.
Pawtucket.
Providence.
TheBrownUniversityexit.Lovecraftcountry.AnoldcoachroadtoEastProvidence.Bighouses.Evenbiggerhouses.
MapleAvenue.BluffStreet.NarragansettAvenue.
“Here,”Mikesays.
“Isthisit?”
“Yeah.”
Thehouseisalarge,ugly,mock-Tudorjob,anearly2000sMcMansiononastreetfilledwithsimilarproperties.
Theydrivepastitandparkalittlewayuptheroad.
“Frontorbackentrance?”RachelasksPete.
“Hardtosay,”Petemutters.“Wedon’tknowaboutdogs,alarms,thatkindofthing.”
“Back,then,”Racheldecides.
ThethreeofthemexittheBMW,walkaroundtheblocktotheHoggs’backyard,andclimbametalfenceattherearoftheproperty.Nodogcomestearingtowardthem.Nofloodlightscomeon.Noshotgunblastcomesroaringoutofthenight.
Thebackdoorisasolid-lookingthingbutthere’sanotherdoorattachedtoakindofmudroomonthesideofthehouse.Ithasonlyalatchlockontheothersideofapieceofglass.PeteturnsonhisEM-pulsekitandbreakstheglass.
Theywaitforaresponse.Ayell.Alightcomingon.
There’snoreaction.
Peteputshishandthroughthebrokenwindowandundoesthelatchontheexternaldoor.
Theygoinsidethemudroom,whichisasmall,narrowwoodenchamberfilledwithcoatsandboots.
Flashlightson.
Mudroomtokitchentodiningroom.
Adiningroomwithpicturesonthewall.
Rachel’sflashlightcatchesafamilyportrait.Twoboys,aman,andhiswife.Tallmanwithjet-blackhair.Small,doughy,attractivewifewholookslikeshe’snice.Thekidsareaboutthesameage,earlyteens.Oneoftheboysisinawheelchair.WhydidtheDunleavyskidnaptheoneinthewheelchair?Whymakeitsodifficult?
Whatkindofapersonkidnapsadisabledchild?
Thenagain,whatkindofpersonkidnapsakidwhomightdieofananaphylacticreactiontonuts?
Whatkindofpersonkidnapsachild?
Theywalkintoagamesroomthathasafull-lengthpooltable,adartboard,andaNintendoWiiconsole.AtleasttheHoggsappeartohavemoney.
“Iguessyoubettertakethis,”Petesaysabsently,givingMikeanine-millimeterpistol.
Rachellooksathim,amazed.Whywouldhegive—
Miketurnsandpointsthenine-millimeteratRachel’shead.
“Now,youbloodybitch,you’regoingtogetyours.You’regoingtoreleaseAmeliatonightorI’mgoingto—”
“You’regoingtodowhat?”Rachelsnaps.“Youthinkwe’redumbenoughtogiveyoualoadedgun?”
Mikestaresattheweapon.“I—”
RachelsnatchesthepistoloutofhishandsandgivesitbacktoPete,whofinallyseemstorealizehismistake.
Rachelshovesthebarrelofthe.38intoMike’scheek.
“Youstilldon’tgethowitworks,doyou?EvenifwegaveyouAmeliaback,thatwon’tbetheendofit.TheChainhastocontinue.That’sthewayit’ssetup.They’llkillyouandAmeliaandyourwifeandToby.They’llkillallofyouandstartagain.They’llkillmeandmyfamilytoo.”
Mikeshakeshishead.“ButI—”hebegins.
Rachelpistol-whipsthe.38acrosshisface.Hewincesandstaggersbacktowardafishtank.Shegrabsthelapelofhisjacketandstopshimfromfalling.
Shepullshimclose.“Doyougetitnow?”
“Ithinkso,”Mikewhimpers.
Sheputsthegununderhischin.“Doyougetit?”sheinsists.
“Igetit,”hebleatsandthenheactuallystartstocry.
Shetakesoffhisskimaskandletsthegunfalltoherside.Shelooksathimandholdsthemomentforabeat,two,three.
“Closeyoureyes,”shesays.
Heclosesthem,andshetakesoffherskimask,pullshisheaddown,andleansherforeheadagainsthis.
“Don’tyousee?I’msavingyou,Michael,”shesaysverysoftly.“I’msavingyouandyourfamily.”
Henods.
Heunderstandsnow.Foreheadagainstforehead.Victimandaccomplice.Accompliceandvictim.
“It’sgoingtobeOK,”shewhispers.
“Areyousure?”heasks.
“Yes,”shesays.“Ipromise.”
SheputsherskimaskbackonandhandsMikehismask.
SheglaresatPete.“Whatthehell’sthematterwithyou?Getittogether,”shehisses.
Adogappearsfromasidedoor,abigtawny-brownAlsatian.Itfreezeswhenitseesthem.“Hey,boy,”Petesays.ThedogcomesoverandsniffsPete’shandandlikeswhatitsmellsthere.
Hepatsitonthehead.ItsniffsRachelandMikeand,satisfied,headsforthekitchen.
ATVisblaringfromaroomatthefrontofthehouse.
Theyfollowthesounddownacorridorhungwithmorefamilyportraits.
Inthelivingroom,theyfindalargemansnoozingonareclinerinfrontofFoxNews.Ajowly,powerful,fallenmantakendownbyevents,likeGulliver.
HewasreadingtheBible.Ithasslippedtothefloornexttohim.There’saguninhislap.
RachelnodsatPete.
Petecarefullyliftsthegunandputsitinhisownjacketpocket.“IsthatSeamusHogg?”Rachelwhispers.
Mikenods.
RachelpicksuptheBible.
HewasreadingDeuteronomy.
Now,shethinks,itistimetoteachhimanewreligion.
41
Monday,4:17a.m.
Emptybeach.Indifferentsky.Wavesiteratingonthecoldblackocean.
RachelwalksupthebackstepsoftheAppenzellers’home.
Fromtheoutside,thehouselooksdeserted.
Inthroughthekitchen.
Tothetopofthebasementsteps.
“Kylie?”
Voicesdownbelow.
Dutchangle.TightonRachel’sface.Jesus.Whatnow?
Shetakesoutthe.38,levelsitinfrontofher,andwalksdownstairs.
KylieandAmeliaareinthedometent.
TheyareplayingOperation.Kylieisn’twearingherskimask.TheyareeatingpotatochipsandAmeliaislaughingherheadoff.
ThisisthefirsttimeRachelhasheardherlaugh.
Shesitsdownonthebasementstepsandputsawaythegun.
ShewantstobeangryatKyliefornotfollowingtheprotocol.Butshecan’tbe.Kylieislookingafterthelittlegirlthewayahumanbeingshouldcareforanotherhumanbeing.
Kyliehasmoreempathythanshedoes.Kylieisbraverthanher.
Rachelgoesbackupstairs.
Sheputsthegunonthekitchentableandsits.
Sheisfilledwithself-hatredandrevulsion.Noneofthiswouldhavehappenedifshehadbeenabettermom.
Foramomentshewonderswhatitwouldfeelliketoputthebarrelofthenine-millimeterinherownmouth.Thatcoolcarbonsteelrestingonhertongueasifitbelongedthere.Thethoughtscaresher,andshepushestheweaponaway.
“Whenisthisgoingtoend?”shewhisperstothedarkness.
Thedarknesskeepsitsowncounsel.
42
Monday,6:00p.m.
SeamusHogghasbeenthoroughlyeducated.Hegetsitnow.Hemakesaplanandexecutesitrapidly.Apparently,he’saquickstudyinthechild-abductionbusiness.HedrivestoEnfield,Connecticut,andwaitsoutsideafootballfieldforafourteen-year-oldboynamedGaryBishopwhoplaysdefensivetackle.
Racheldoesn’tknowmuchaboutfootball,butsheknowsthatdefensivetacklesarebig.Thatworriesher,butthetargethasbeenapprovedbytheWickrcontact.Howcarefullydotheyvetthesethings?Dotheyevencareifitallgoeswrong?Dotheyoccasionallylongforitalltogowrong?Whatisthepsychologyofamonster?
Shelooksattheclockabovethetidemarker.
Itsays6:01p.m.
Shegoesoutsidetowaitonthedeck.
Kylie’sinthelivingroomdoingherhomework.Pretendingeverythingisnormal,sittingtheredoinghermathbutlettingoutlittlewhimpers.Rachelwantstositwithher,butKyliesaysno.Rachelwatchesherthroughtheglass.AnOKdayatschool,shesaid.Shelookedterribleandhadnotroubleconvincinganyonethatshehadbeenill.
PeteisoverattheAppenzellers’housewithAmelia.AmeliaisinherprincesstentplayingOperationbyherselfnow.AmeliahatesRachel.ShetoldPetethat.“Don’twantthelady.Ihateher.”
Racheldoesn’tblameherintheslightest.
Rachellooksatherphoneandtheburnerphonenexttoitonthedeck:7:15.
Ifitallgetsscrewedupagain,couldtheDunleavysbetrustedtokillHenryHoggandwipetheslateclean?
Iftheycan’t,willshehavetokilllittleAmeliaoverthereattheAppenzellers’?Killthatterrified,sad,lovelylittlegirlinthetent?The.38revolverisinthepocketofherrobe.It’llhavetobeher.LettingPetedoitwouldbeacop-out.Petehad,sheknew,actuallyshotpeople.Possiblykilledpeople.InAfghanistanhehadbeeninseveralfirefights,andinIraqhe’dbeenintoomanytocount.
Butshehadbroughthimin.Soithadtobeher.Nochoice.
She’daskPetetowaitinthekitchenandshe’dgodownthebasementstepsinhersocks.Ameliawouldn’thearherapproachacrosstheconcretefloor.She’dshootAmeliainthebackoftheheadwhilesheplayed.Ameliawouldneverknowwhathappened.Existencetononexistencejustlikethat.
Killingachild—theworstthinganyonecouldeverdo.
ButbetterthatthanhaveKyliesuckedbackintothevoid.
Rachelbeginstocry.Greatwavesofanguishandanger.Didthismakethemsmile?Forcingvirtuouspeopletodoterriblethings?Everyhumanbeingwalkingthisearthcanbeforcedtoviolatehisorherdeepestbeliefsandprinciples.Isn’tthathilarious?
Shewaitsuntil7:25beforephoningtheDunleavys.“Well?”
“We’vejustcalledSeamusHogg.Thekidnapwassuccessful.Thekidwasalmostnotroubleatall.Hegothim.”
“That’sgreat.”
“How’sAmelia?”
“Amelia’sfine.PlayingOperationagain.Safe.”Rachelhangsup.
Shewalkstoherbedroomandsitsontheedgeofthebed.
Sheputsthe.38onthedresser,letsthehammerdowngently,putsthesafetybackon,unclicksthecylinder,removesthebullets,putstheminthedresserdrawer,andbreathes.
AnhourlatertheWickrapponRachel’sphonechimes.HercontactinformsherthatshecanreleaseAmeliaDunleavy.
Withonlyaslighthiccup,TheChainismarchingonitsmerryway.
RachelcallsHelenDunleavyonaburnerphone.
“Hello?”
“We’regoingtoreleaseAmeliainthenextthirtyminutes.Willcallwithinstructions,”Rachelsaysandhangsup.
ShegoestotheAppenzellers’houseandputsonherskimask,andsheandPeteunchainlittleAmeliaandgetheroutofthebasement.TheyputonglovesandRacheldressesherinabrand-newfingerprint-freepairofjeansandasweater.Whenthecoastisclear,theydrapeatoweloverherheadandmovehertothebackseatofPete’spickup.
TheydrivehertotheplaygroundatRowleyCommonandgetheroutofthecar.Theytellhertokeepthetowelonforacountofsixtyandthenplayontheswingsuntilhermomcomestopickherup.Theyleaveherwithawiped-downMr.Booandatoyoctopusshehasbecomeparticularlyfondof.
TheyparktheDodgeacrossthestreetfromthecommonandPetewatchesAmeliathroughbinocularswhileRachelcallstheDunleavys.SheremindsthemaboutTheChainandtheblowbackandtheterribleconsequencesofreleasingtheirvictimearlyorofanybodytalking.TheyhavealreadybeengiventhisspeechbythevoiceofTheChain,andtheyassureherthattheywilldotherightthing.
Racheltellsthemwheretheirdaughterisandhangsup.
SheandPetewaitintheDodgeRam.
Alittlegirlleftbyherselfontheswingsinthegatheringdarkinearlytwenty-first-centuryAmerica.Howscaryisthat?
Fiveminutesgoby.
Ameliagetsbored.
ShegetsofftheswingsandwalkstotheedgeofRoute1A.Carsareroaringbyatfiftymilesanhour.
“Damnit!”Petesays.
Rachel’sheartisinhermouth.
Thereareotherpeopleintheparknow,acoupleofteenageboysinhoodies.“She’sgoingtogetherselfkilled,”Petesays.
“I’llhandleit,”Rachelreplies.Sheputsherskimaskbackon.ShegetsoutofthecarandrunsovertheroadtoAmelia.“Amelia,thisroadisdangerous.Itoldyoutowaitbytheswings!Yourmommyanddaddywillbehereinfiveminutes.”
“Idon’twanttoplayontheswings,”Ameliasays.
“Ifyoudon’tgoovertotheswings,Amelia,I’mgoingtotellyourmommyanddaddyyoudon’twantthemtocomeforyou,andtheywon’tcome!”
“Wouldyoureallydothat?”Ameliaasks,suddenlyfrightened.
“Yes!Iwould,”Rachelsays.“Nowgoplayontheswings.”
“Youaresuchameanie!Ihateyou!”
Ameliaturnsandbeginswalkingbacktotheplayground.
Rachelsprintsovertheroadbeforetheteenagersregistertheskimaskandmaybebeginwonderingifsomethingiswrong.Whenshe’ssuretheyaren’tlookinginherdirection,shegetsintheDodge.
Ameliasitsglumlyontheswingsbyherselfasthetwoteenagersgointotheplayhouse,apparentlytolightupajoint.
Timecrawlsby.
FinallytheDunleavyspullupintheircarandruntotheirdaughterandhugherandcry.
Andit’sdone.
ThespotlightisoffthemandtheycanonlyhopethatthepeoplefartheralongTheChaindon’tscreweverythingupandsenditspiralingbacktowardthemagain
TheydrivehometocheckonKylieandthengostraighttotheAppenzellers’toremovealltracesoftheirpresencethere.Theycleanoutthebasementandtakedowntheboardoverthebasementwindow,returnthemattresstotheupstairsbedroom,scrubawaytheprints.Theyputthemechanismintothebackdoorandlockitasbestastheycan.TheAppenzellerswilldefinitelynoticethatsomethingiswrongwithitwhentheyreturninthespring,butspringisalongwayaway.
TheydrivethegarbagetoadumpinLowell.Whentheygetback,it’slate,butKylieisstillawake.
“It’sover,”Rachelsays.“Thelittlegirlisbackwithherparents.”
“Isitreallyover?”Kylieasks.
RachelbanishesalluncertaintyfromhervoiceandlooksKyliestraightinherbigbrowneyes.
“Yes,”shesays.
KylieburstsintotearsandRachelhugsher.
TheyorderpizzaandRachelliesnexttoKylieuntilshefallsasleep.WhenKylieisfinallydownforthecount,Racheltextsheroncologistthatshe’llcallherinthemorning.Shehopessheisn’tdying.Thatwouldbethekickertoallofthis.
Shegoesdownstairs.Pete’soutsideinhissweatschoppingfirewood.Therearenowhalfadozenstacksofwood,eachaboutsixfeethigh.Definitelyenoughfirewoodtogetthroughthewinterandazombieapocalypseortwo.Hecomesinwithabundleofwoodandlightsafireinthegrate.
RachelgetshimaSamAdamsandhepopsitandsitswithheronthesofa.SomethingstirredinherwhenshesawPetechoppingthatwood.Somethingridiculouslysillyandprimal.
She’sneverknownPetewellenoughtohaveacrushonhim.He’salwaysbeenawaysomewhere.Iraq,CampLejeune,Okinawa,Afghanistan,orjusttraveling.He’sverydifferentfromMarty.Taller,leaner,darker,moodier,quieter.Martyishandsomefromfiftypaces;Peteismoreofanacquiredtaste.Theydon’tlookalikeoractalike.Peteisintrospective;Marty’sanextrovert.Martyisthelifeandsouloftheparty;Peteistheguyinthecornerbrowsingthebookshelf,checkinghiswatchtoseeifhecanquietlyslipaway.
Petefinishesthebeerinonegulpandgetsanother.ShelightshimaMarlborofromMarty’semergencybar-examcarton.“Andwehavethis,”shesays,producingabottleoftwelve-year-oldBowmore.Shepoursthemtwofingerseach.
“Thisisgood,”Petesays.Helikesthisfeeling.Thislittleboozebuzz.He’dforgottenwhatthatfeltlike.It’sacompletelydifferenttypeofhighthanyougetwiththeopiates.Heroinisaprotectiveblanketyouthrowoveryourself.Themostbeautifulblanketintheworld,ablanketthateasesthepainandletsyousinkintoanautumnaluniverseofbliss.
Boozebringsyououtofyourself.Oritbringshimout,anyway.Andyethedoesn’tquitetrusttheseemotions.
“I’lljustcheckthedoors,”hesays,clearinghisthroat.Hegetsupabruptly,takesthenine-millimeterfromhisbag,patrolstheperimeter,andlocksthedoors.
Taskcompleted,hehasnochoicebuttositbackdownonthesofa.Hemakesadecision.TimeforhimtotellRachelthetruthabouthimself.Bothbigsecrets.“There’ssomethingyoushouldknowaboutme,”hestartshesitantly.
“Oh?”
“It’sabouttheMarines.Iwas…Iwashonorablydischarged,butitwasaclose-runthing.Iavoidedacourt-martialbyawhiskerforwhathappenedatBastion.”
“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“Septemberfourteenth,2012,”hesaysinamonotone.
“InIraq?”
“Afghanistan.CampBastion.TheTalibandressedinU.S.Armyuniformsandinfiltratedtheperimeterfencingandgotontothebaseandstartedshootingupplanesandtents.Iwasthedutyofficeroftheengineeringunitathangartwenty-two.Except,well,exceptIwasn’tonduty.Iwashighinmytent.Justpot.Butstill.I’dleftaseniorsergeantincharge.”
Rachelnods.
“WhenIgotoverthere,allhellhadbrokenloose.TracersandRPGsandtotalconfusion.RAFguardsshootingatMarinesshootingatarmy.Thereweretheseprivatesecuritycontractorswhojusthappenedtobethere,andtheypreventedamassacre.NeverinamillionyearswouldIhavethoughtthataTalibanteamcouldpenetratethatdeepintothebase.PrinceHarryfromEnglandwastherethatnight.TheVIPareawastwohundredmetersfromthefirefight.Itwasacompletedisaster,asyoucanimagine,andIownedabigchunkofit.”
“Pete,comeon,thatwassixyearsago,”Rachelprotests.
“Youdon’tunderstand,Rach.Marinesdied,andIplayedapartinthat.TheypunishedmeunderArticleFifteen,butitwouldhavebeenaGCMiftheyhadn’tbeenworriedaboutthepublicity.Iquitanywayacoupleofyearslater.Sixyearsbeforemytwenty.Norealpensionorbenefits.Whatacompleteasshole.”
Sheleansforwardandkisseshimgentlyonthelips.
“It’sOK,”shesays.
Thekisstakeshisbreathaway.
You’reverybeautiful,hewantstosaybutcan’t.She’sexhausted,thin,andfrailbutstillgorgeous.Thatisn’ttheproblem.Theproblemisarticulatingthefeeling.Hefeelshischeeksreddenandhelooksaway.
Shepushesbackastrandofdarkhairfromhisfurrowedbrow.
Shekisseshimagain,thistimemoreseriously.It’ssomethingshehasbeenwantingtodo.She’sworrieditwillbeanticlimactic.
Itisn’t.
Hislipsaresoftbuthiskississtrongandpowerful.Hetastesofcoffee,cigarettes,Scotch,andothergoodthings.
Petekissesherbackhungrily,butthenafteraminute,hehesitates.
“What?”
“Idon’tknowifIcan,”hesayssoftly.
“Whatdoyoumean?Don’tyoufindme—”
“It’snotthat.That’snotitatall.You’reincrediblyhot.”
“I’mskinandbones,I—”
“No,youlookamazing.It’snotthat.”
“Whatisit,then?”
“Ihaven’t…foralongtime…”hesays.Itisn’treallyalie.He’sthinkingaboutthesecondbigsecret—theheroin—andwonderingwhetherhewillbeabletoperform.
“I’msureitwillallcomeroaringback,”Rachelsaysassheleadshimtothebedroom.
Shetakesoffherclothesandliesonthebed.
Shedoesn’tknowitbutshe’swildlysexy,Petethinks.Brownhair,long,longlegs.
“Comeon,”shesaysteasingly.“Isthatapistolinyourpocketorareyoujust…oh,itisapistol.”
Peteputsthenine-millimeteronthebedsidetableandtakesoffhisT-shirt.
Whenhedropshissweats,he’ssomewhatsurprisedtoseethateverythingisinfullworkingorder.
“Well,well,well,”Rachelsays.
Petegrins.That’sarelief,hethinks,andclimbsintobednexttoher.
It’spurewe-survived-the-plane-crashsex.
Frantic,fraught,desperate,hungry.
Twentyminuteslater,sheclimaxesandheclimaxes.
Aspectacularoasisaftermonthsofdrought.
“Sothatwas…”Petesays.
“Yeah,”Rachelagrees.
ShegoestogetthecigarettesandScotch.“Andalso,youknow,weird,”shesays.“Evenperverted.Imean,Christ,twobrothers,whodoesthat?”
“Juststayawayfrommyfather.Idon’tthinkhisheartcouldtakeit.”
“Thatissogross.”
Petegetsup,walkstothelivingroom,andthumbsthroughhervinylcollection,whichismostlyMotownandjazz.HerCDsareallMaxRichterandJóhannJóhannssonandPhilipGlass.
“MyGod,Rachel,everhearofathingcalledrockandroll?”
HeputsonSamCooke’sNightBeat.
Whenhecomesbacktothebed,sheclearlyseesthetrackmarksonhisarms.
Itisn’tasurprise.Shesuspectedsomethinglikethis.Shetouchesthetracklinesandthen,gently,kisseshim.
“Ifyou’regoingtostayhere,you’llneedtobeclean,”shesays.
“Yeah,”heagrees.
“No,Pete,I’mserious.YougaveAmeliathewrongfood.YougavetheguntoMikeDunleavy.Youneedtobeoffthatshit.”
Petecanfeeltheforceofhergaze.
He’sashamedofhimself.
“I’msorry.I’mso,sosorry.You’reright.YoudeserveitandKyliedeservesit.Thisisn’tjustaboutmeanymore.I’llgetclean.”
“Youneedtopromiseme,Pete.”
“Ipromise.”
“Chemoisn’tthesamething,butIgotthroughsomehardtimes.I’llbetheretohelp.”
“Thankyou,Rach.”
“WhathappenedlastnightinEastProvidence?InSeamusHogg’shouse?Youwerehigh?”
“No.Nothigh,but…”
“What?”
“Onthetailend.Ijustwasn’tthinkingwhenIgaveMikeDunleavythatgun.I’msorry.Hecouldhavekilledus.”
“Buthedidn’t.”
“No.”
Sheclimbsontohischestandlookshimintheeye.
“Icouldn’thavedonethiswithoutyou,Pete.Imeanthat.”Shekisseshimonthelips.
“Itwasyou,honey,itwasyouwhosavedyourfamily,”Peteinsists.“Youdidit.Youcandoanything.”
“Ha!I’vefeltlikesuchafailurethesepastfewyears.WaitressingandallthosemenialjobssoMartycouldstudyforthebar.Evenearlier.YouknowthatwhenIwascoachingMartyfortheLSAT,Igotoneseventyonthepracticetest.Hegotonefifty-nine.Ihadallthispotential,Pete.Iblewit.”
“You’veturnedeverythingaround,Rach.It’samazingwhatyoudid,gettingKylieback,”Petetellsher.
Sheshakesherhead.It’samiraclethatKylieisbackwiththem,andyoudon’tcongratulateyourselfforamiracle.
Rachelputsherhandonhischestandfeelshisheartbeating.Calm,slow,deliberate.Hehasthreetattoos:anouroborosserpent,theMarineCorpslogo,andtheRomannumeralV
“What’stheVstandfor?”sheasks.
“Fivecombattours.”
“Theouroboros?”
“Toremindmyselfthatthereain’tnothingnewunderthesun.Peoplehavesurvivedworse.”
Shesighsandkisseshimagainandfeelshimstirringunderneathher.“Itwouldbeniceifthismomentcouldlastforever,”Rachelsays.
“Itwill,”Petereplieshappily.
No,Rachelthinks,itwon’t.
PartTwo
TheMonsterintheLabyrinth
43
AmuddyhippiecommuneinCrete,NewYork,sometimeinthelate1980s.It’samorninginearlyfall,grayanddrizzling.Thecommunityisbuiltaroundaseriesofdecrepitfarmbuildings.It’sbeenagoingconcernsincethesummerof1974,butnoonerecruitedsincethenhasevidentlyhadmuchcompetenceinanimalhusbandry,agriculture,orevenbasicmaintenance.
Thenameofthecommunehaschangedseveraltimesoverthepreviousdecadeandahalf.It’sbeencalledtheChildrenofAsterion,theChildrenofEuropa,theChildrenofLove,andsoon.Butthenameisn’timportant.WhenwhattakesplacethatparticularfallmorningmakesitintotheNewYorkDailyNewstheattention-grabbingheadlinewillsimplyread“UpstateDrug-Sex-CultMassacre.”
Butforthemomentallispeaceful.
Atoddlermaybearoundtwo,alittleboynamedMoonbeam,isoutsidewithhistwinsister,Mushroom,andanassortedbunchofothertoddlers,olderkids,chickens,anddogs.Theyareplayinginamuddyfieldbehindthebarnyardwithoutadultsupervision.Thekidsseemhappyenoughalthoughtheyarealldampanddirty.
Insidethebarn,adozenorsoyoungadultsaresittinginacircletrippingonOrangeBarrelandClearLightLSD.Attheendoftheseventies,therewouldhavebeenthirtyorfortypeopleinhere,butthatwastheheydayforthiskindofexperimentinalternativeliving,anditwasalongtimeago.Theeightieshaveaverydifferentvibeandthecommuneisslowlydying.
Theeventsoftodaywillbeitsgrislyfinalchapter.
Astationwagonpullsupattheedgeofthefarmyard.Anoldmanandayoungmangetout.Thetwomenlookateachotherandputonskimasks.Bothmenarearmedwithuglysnub-nosed.38Saturday-night-specialrevolvers.
ThemenwalkintothebarnandstartaskingthetrippingyoungadultswhereAliciais.
NobodyseemstoknowwhereAliciaisoreven,indeed,whoAliciais.
“Let’strythehouse,”theoldmansays.
Theyleavethebarn,walkbyarustingtractor,andenterthemassiveoldfarmhouse.
Theplaceisamaze,anobstaclecourse.Mattresses,furniture,clothes,toys,andgamesarestrewneverywhere.Themendrawtheirweaponsandcleartheroomsonthefirstandsecondfloors.
Themenlookupthestairstothethirdfloor.Somewhereupthere,musicisplaying.
TheyoungmanrecognizesthealbumasStickyFingersbytheRollingStones,whichwasoneofAlicia’sfavorites.
Astheyclimbthestairs,themusicgetslouder.Theyenteralargemasterbedroomatthebitwhere“SisterMorphine”transitionsinto“DeadFlowers.”
TheyfindAlicia,ayoungblondwoman,nakedwithanotheryoungwomanandared-hairedmanwithagingerbeard.Theyareinalarge,old-fashionedfour-posterbed.Aliciaandthebeardedmanaretripping.Theotherwomanappearstobedeeplyasleep.
TheoldmankneelsdownnexttoAlicia,slapsheronthecheek,andtriestogethertorespond.“Wherearethekids,Alicia?”heasks,butshedoesn’tanswer.
Theyoungmanshakesherandasksherthesamething,butshedoesn’trespondtohimeither.
Eventuallyhegivesupasking.
Theoldmangrabsapillowandgivesittotheyoungman.
Theyoungmanlooksatthepillowandshakeshishead.
“Onlywaytobesafe,”theoldmansays.“Lawyerswillgivethembacktoher.”
Theyoungmanthinksaboutitforawhile,nods,andthen,reluctantlyatfirst,butthenwithgrowinganger,startssmotheringAliciawiththepillow.Aliciastruggles,scratchingattheyoungman’shands,thrashingherlegs.
Thebeardedmancomestoandseeswhat’shappening.
“Hey,man!”hesays.
Theoldmantakesouttherevolverandshootsthebeardedmaninthehead,killinghiminstantly.
Theyoungmandropsthepillowandtakesouthis.38.
“Tom?”Aliciagasps.
Theoldmanshootsherintheheadtoo.
Despiteallthecommotion,theotheryoungwomanhasn’twokenup,orperhapssheispretendingtobeasleep.Theoldmanshootsheranyway.
Feathersareflyingandthesheetsaredrenchedwithblood.
Thebathroomdooropensandanakedyoungmanenterstheroomholdingarolloftoiletpaper.
“What’sgoingon?”hedemands.
Theoldmantakescarefulaimandshootstheperplexedyoungmaninthechest.It’saheartshotanditprobablykillshim,buttheoldmancrossestheroomanddoubletapshimintheheadanyway.
“Jesus,whatamess,”Tomsays.
“I’lltakecareofthiswhileyoulookforthekids,”theoldmantellshim.
TenminuteslaterTomfindsMoonbeamandMushroomplayinginthedirtbehindthebarn.Hetakesthemtothestationwagon.
Withabowieknife,theoldmanhascutofffourfingersonAlicia’slefthand—thefourfingersthatscratchedtheyoungmanandgothisDNAonthem.
Hefindsajerricanofgasolineandtrailsgasallthroughthefarmhouse.Hewipesthejerricanwithahandkerchief,goestothekitchensink,andpourshimselfaglassofwater.Hedrinksthewaterandwipestheglasscleanofprints.
Hestepsthroughthescreendoor,holdsthedooropenwithhisfoot,lightsabookofmatches,andthrowsitontothekitchenfloor.
Alineofscarletflameracesacrossthelinoleum.
TheoldmanjoinsTombackatthestationwagon.
Theydriveawayfromthecommune,theoldmanatthewheel,Tominthebackwiththekids.
Theydon’tmeetanyothercarsonthenarrowroadthatleadsawayfromthefarm—whichisfortunateforeveryone.
Tomlooksthroughtherearwindowtoseethefarmhouseeruptinginflames.
Theydriveforfortyminutes,untiltheyencounterareservoir.Theoldmanstopsthestationwagon,getsout,cleansbothpistolsandthebowieknifewithahandkerchief.
HeaddsthebowieknifetothepaperbagcontainingAlicia’sfingers.Hepokesaholeinthebagandthrowsthebagandbothpistolsintotheglassywater.
Theysinkimmediately.
ThreesetsofripplesinthepondintersectbrieflylikethetriplespiralonefindsattheentrancetopassagegravesinNeolithicEurope.
Thespiralsfadeandtheblackwaterisstillagain.
“Comeon,”theoldmansays.“Let’sgo.”
44
Ablizzard.Cold.Thebundlesatherfeetarebirdswhohavefrozenandfallenfromthetrees.Snowstingsherfacebutshecanbarelyfeelit.Sheishereandnothere.Sheiswatchingherselfinacinemaofconfession.
Allshe’stryingtodoisgetbacktothehousefromthemailbox.Butshecan’tseethroughthewhitetranslucentdepthsofOldPointRoad.
Shedoesn’twanttotakeawrongturnandwanderintothemarsh.Shewalksgingerlyinherbedroomslippersandherrobe.
Whyisshesounderdressed?Underprepared?Unready?
Themarshwaitsforhertofillanabsence.Youowethevoidalifebecauseyougotyourdaughterback.
Onthewaterducksraiseanalarm.Somethingislurkingoutthereontheedgeofthetidalbasin.
Thewindswirlsthesnowinfrontofher.Whatpossessedhertocomeoutinweatherlikethis?
Thewhitenessdarkensintotheshapeofacreature.Aman.Thecurveinthehoodofhiscoatmakesitseemlikehehashorns.
Maybehedoeshavehorns.Maybehehasthebodyofamanandthefaceofabull.
Hecomescloser.
No,itisaman.Heiswearingalongblackcoatandheiscarryingagun.Thegunispointedatherchest.“I’mlookingforKylieO’Neill,”hesays.
“She’snothome—she,she,shewenttoNewYork,”Rachelstutters.
Themanraisesthegun…
Shewakeswithastart.
Thebed’sempty.Peteisgone.Thehouseisquiet.She’shadthisdreambefore.Variationsonatheme.Youdon’tneedtobeageniustointerpretthisnightmare:Youareindebt.Youwillalwaysbeindebt.Youowe.OnceyouareonTheChain,youareonforever.Andifyoueventhinkabouttryingtoemancipateyourself,theblowbackwillcomeforyou.
It’slikehercancer.
Itwillalwaysbethere,lurkinginthebackground,fortherestofherlife.Fortherestofalltheirlives.
Cancer.
Yeah.
Shelooksatthepillow,andsureenough,thereareafewdozenbrownandblackhairsand—oh,howcharming—quiteafewgrayonesnowtoo.
Whenshe’dgonetoseeheroncologistonthatfatefulTuesdaymorning,Dr.ReedhadimmediatelysentherforanMRI.TheresultsweresufficientlyconcerningforDr.Reedtorecommendasurgicalinterventionthatafternoon.
Itwasthesamecream-coloredroomatMass.General.
ThesamekindTexananesthetist.
Thesameno-nonsenseHungariansurgeon.
EventhesameShostakovichsymphonyplayinginthebackground.
“Honey,everything’sgoingtobejustdandy.I’mgoingtocountdownfromten,”theanesthetistsaid.
Comeon,whosays“justdandy”anymore,Rachelthought.
“Ten,nine,eight…”
Thesurgerywasdeclaredasuccess.Shewould“requireonlyonecycleofadjuvantchemotherapy,”whichwaseasyforDr.Reedtosaybecauseshedidn’thavetogothroughit.Shedidn’thavetohavethepoisondrippedintoherveins.
Still,onceeverytwoweeksforfourmonthsissomethingRachelcanhandle.Nothingisallthatterriblenowthatherlittlegirlisbackagain.
Shebrushesthehairsoffthepillowandthebaddreamfromhermind.ShecanhearKylieupstairsaboveherintheshower.Kylieusedtosingintheshower.Shedoesn’tdothatanymore.
RachelpullsbacktheblindsandpicksupthemugofcoffeePeteleftforherbythebed.Itlookslikeanicemorning.She’ssurprisedtoseethatthere’snosnow.Thedreamfeltsoreal.Thebedroomfaceseasttowardthetidalbasin.Shetakesasipofcoffee,slidestheglassdoorsopen,andgoesoutontothedeck.It’scrispandcool,andthemudflatsarefullofwadingbirds.
SheseesDr.Havercampwalkingthroughthedunesinfrontofthehouse.Hewavesandshewavesback.HedisappearsbehindalargebeachplumbushfromwhichthisislandandtheoneinNewYorkgotitsname.Thebeachplumsareripenow.They’dmadejarsofpreservedplumslastfall,sellingthematthefarmers’market.SheandKyliesplittheproceeds.VinelandJamCorporation,Kyliehadcalledit,writingthatonthehomemadelabels.KyliehadlovedthefactthatdangerouspiraticalVikingshadmaybemadeitasfarsouthasPlumIsland.Thoseweredayswhenyoucouldlongfordangerfromaplaceofsafety.
Racheltightensthebeltontherobeandgoesintothelivingroom.“Honey,doyouwantmetomakeyoubreakfast?”shecallstoherdaughter.
“Toast,please,”Kyliesaysfromsomewhereupstairs.
Rachelpadsintothekitchenandputstwoslicesofbreadinthetoaster.
“HappyThanksgiving,”someonesaysbehindher.
“Shit!”shesays,spinningaroundandholdingupthebreadknife.
Stuartcomicallyputshishandsintheair.
“Stuart,I’msosorry,Ididn’tknowyouwereover,”Rachelsays.
“Youcanputtheknifedownnow,Mrs.O’Neill,”Stuartreplies,fakingterror
“SorryabouttheS-wordtoo.Don’ttellyourmother.”
“It’sfine.Imighthaveheardthatwordonceortwicebeforeinvarious,um,contexts.”
“Wouldyoulikesometoast?”
“No,thanks.IjustcamebytosayhitoKyliebeforeyouguysleave.”
RachelnodsandmakessometoastforStuartanyway.SheandKylieandPetearegoingtoBostonforThanksgiving.ThanksgivingwasonlytwodaysafterachemoTuesday,soMartyhadsteppedintothebreachandinvitedthemalltohisplacefortheholiday.
It’sOK.EverythingisOK.
Rachelmakestwomoreslicesoftoast,putsthemonaplate.
Petecomesinfromhisrun,lookingbreathlessbuthappy.He’sbeenrunningalotthepasttwoweeksandgettingstronger.TheVAinWorcestergothimintoamethadoneprogram,whichallowshimtoeasetheopiatesoutofhissystemgradually.It’sworkingsofar.Anditwouldhavetokeepworking.Herfamilyisthepriority.Peteknowsthat.
Petekissesheronthelips.
“Goodrun?”sheasks.
Helooksather.Hecantell.“Baddream?”hewhispers.
Shenods.“Thesame,”shesays.
“Youshouldtalktosomeone.”
“YouknowIcan’t.”
Theycantellnoonethattheyhavegonethroughthelookingglassandintotheworldwherenightmaresarereal.
PetegetshimselfcoffeeandsitsnexttoRachelattheliving-roomtable.
Hehadneverformallyaskedtomovein.HehaddriventoWorcesterandbroughtthestuffhe’dwanted—whichwasn’tawholelot—andthenjustsortofstayed.
Outofthethreeofthem,Peteperhapsisdoingbest.
Ifhehasbaddreamshedoesn’tmentionthem,andthemethadonekeepsawaytheworstofhiscravings.
Outofthethreeofthem,Kylieisdefinitelydoingtheworst.
ThatnightattheAppenzellers’,KyliewentdowntolittleAmelia.ThegirlhadwokenupandKyliehadcomfortedherandtoldherthateverythingwasgoingtobeallright.Butthatisn’tthepoint.Thepointisthatshewentdownthere.ShewaspartoftheapparatuskeepingAmeliaprisoner.ThusKyliehadbeenbothvictimandabuser.Likeallofthem.Victimsandaccomplices.That’swhatTheChaindoestoyou.Ittorturesyouandthenmakesyoucomplicitinthetortureofothers.
Kyliehasn’twetthebedsinceshewasfouryearsold.Nownearlyeverysinglemorning,thesheetsaresoaked.
Whenshedreams,thedreamsarealwaysthesame—she’sthrowninadungeonandlefttodiealone.
EverythingischangedonPlumIsland.Kyliedoesn’twalktoschoolortothestoreoranywherebyherself.
Before,theyseldomlockedthedoors;nowtheyalwaysdo.Petehasreinforcedandchangedallthelocks.HeclearedRachel’sdevicesofspywareandhisfriendStancameinandprofessionallydebuggedthehouseandputcoin-sizeGPStrackersinKylie’sshoes.TheymonitorKylieconstantlywhenshegoesanywhere,especiallywhenshestayswithherdadinthecity.
Kylieknowsshecan’ttellherfatheraboutwhathappened.Notherfather,notStuart,nottheschoolcounselor,nothergrandmother.Nobody.ButMartyisnofoolandheseesthatsomethingiswrong.Maybesomethingtodowithaboy?Heisn’tgoingtopressit.He’shavinghisownproblems.TammyhadsuddenlymovedbacktoCaliforniatotakecareofhermotherwhohadrecentlybeeninanaccident.Tammywasn’tinterestedinabicoastalrelationship.Afewcurte-mails,andjustlikethat,solong,Marty.
Petewasn’ttoosurprised.MartyhadbailedTammyoutofbankruptcy,restoredhercredit,sortedoutallherlegalwoes,andthenshe’dsaid,Thankyouverymuch,I’mofftothecoast.Shesociallyengineeredthem,Petethinks.He’sseenTammy’stypebefore;infact,hemarriedagirlalmostexactlylikeTammy.AndheknowsplentyofmaleTammys.
Kyliefinallycomesdownstairs.She’schangedoutofherpajamasintosweatsandaT-shirt.
Rachelknowswhatthatmeans.Herpajamasareinthelaundrybasket.
“Oh,hi,Stuart,”Kyliesays.
Shelookssoverysad.Thanksgivingwillhopefullygivehersomethingelsetothinkabout.Rachelwatchesherwhilepretendingtolookthroughherphilosophybooks.StuartistalkingandKylieisgivinghimvague,halfheartedanswers.
FinallyStuartsaysgoodbye;theyallhavebreakfastandthengetdressed.
Atoneo’clock,PetedrivesthemdowntoMarty’snewplaceinLongwood,whichisalmostwithinhome-runrangeofFenwayPark.Goodneighborhood.Lawyers,doctors,accountants.Whitepicketfences,well-keptlawns.“WhateverMarty’sgivingyouinchildsupport,askformore,”Petesays,parkingtheDodge.
Martyhasn’teventriedtocook.Heorderedineverythingfromagourmet-deliveryapp,whichisfine.Thehouseisbarelyfurnishedandhedoesnothaveanewgirlfriendintow,whichsurprisesRachelalittle.MartyalwaysseemedtobeaplanAandplanBkindofguy.
TheygetthelowdownonTammy’ssuddendepartureandMarty’scareer.He’supsetaboutTammybreakingupwithhimviatextmessageandthenghostinghimfromCalifornia,butMarty’snotonetoletsomethinglikethatgethimdown.Heriffsaboutclients,tellsahilariousstoryaboutawillreading,andthendoessomeofhisbetterlawyerjokes.
Hedoesn’taskaboutKylie’sschool.Healreadyknowsaboutthecollapseingradesandhethinksit’sbestnottobringitup.
Kylieisdistant,andRachelistooexhaustedtosayanything,butforoncePetekeepsuphisendoftheconversation.Hesayshe’sthinkingofkayakinguptheIntracoastalWaterwayandhetalksabouttheintricaciesoftheCapeCodcanalandtheChesapeake.
Rachel’smomcallsfromFlorida,andMartyinsistsonspeakingtoher.There’saheart-in-mouthmomentwhenMartyasksheraboutHamilton,butJudithrememberstolieaboutthat.
JudithtellsRachelprivatelythatsheneedstomakeacleanbreakfromthatawfulO’Neillfamily,andRachellistens,agrees,wishesherahappyThanksgiving,andhangsup.
“WhatdidyoudoforThanksgivinglastyear,UnclePete?”Kylieasks.
“IwasinSingaporetraveling.Didn’tdomuch.Couldn’tgetturkey.”
“WhatwasyourlastproperThanksgivingathome?Withfamily?”Rachelwonders.
Petethinksaboutit.“It’sbeenafewyears.ThelastThanksgivingIrememberwasinOkinawaatCampButler.Messhallhadturkeyandmashedpotatoes.Itwasprettygood.”
Rachellistensandsmiles.SheholdsKylie’shandunderthetableandmovesthefoodaroundonherplateandpretendstoeat.ShelooksatKylie—nowlaughingatherdad’sjokesbutalmostalwaysonthevergeoftears.ShelooksatPete—broodyandquietbuttryinghisdamnedesttokeeptheconvogoing.ShelooksatMarty—handsomeandebullientandfunny.Tammyisanidiot.Marty’sakeeper.
Sheexcusesherselftogototherestroom.
Shecatchesherreflectioninthehallwaymirror.
She’sfadingawayagain.Dissolvingintothebackground.Shegoesintothebathroomandplucksatthatannoyingredthreadonherfavoriteredsweater.
Shesitsthereonthetoiletwithherheadinherhands,thinking.
Thebellsoundsonherphone.AnewmessageontheencryptedWickrapp.ShehadonlygottenmessagesfromonepersononWickr:theUnknownCaller.TheChain.
Sheopensthemessage.
Youhavealottobethankfulforthisyear,Rachel.Wehavegivenyoubackyourdaughter.Wehavegivenyoubackyourlife.BethankfulforourmercyandrememberthatonceyouareonTheChain,youareonitforever.Youarenotthefirstandyouwillnotbethelast.Wearewatching,wearelistening;wecancomeforyouatanytime.
Racheldropsthephoneandstiflesascream.
Sheburstsintotears.Itwillneverbeover.Never.
Shesinkstothefloorandafterafewsecondsrememberstobreathe.
Sheweepsandwashesherfaceandflushesthetoiletandtakesadeepbreathandrejoinsherfamily.
Everyonelooksather.Everyoneknowsthatshehasbeencrying.Twoofthemguessthereasonwhy.
45
Fifty-FiveFruitStreet,Boston,Mass.
Shetellsthemnottocome.Shewantsthemtocome,butshealwaystellsthemnotto.Petehastodriveher,ofcourse,butthere’snoreasonKylieandMartyhavetobethere.
Asex-husbandsgo,Martyisprettyhighupthere.
Theywaitoutsideinthefamilyroom.
Thefamilyroomisfine.There’saTVtunedtoCNNandastackofNationalGeographicsgoingbacktothe1960s.There’saviewofBostonHarbor.YoucanjustseetheUSSConstitution.
She’sgladtheyaren’tinheretowatchhergaspinpainwhenthenurseaccessestheportortoseeherwhenthepoisonsflowandtheshiveringbeginsandthenauseamakestheroomspin.
Chemoisalittledeaththatyouinviteininordertokeepthebigdeathwaitingoutsideontheporch.
Whenthehumiliationandtheagonyaredone,theywheelherintotherecoveryroomandtheysmileather.HugsfromKylieandPete.Martytalkingamileaminute.
That’swhatyouneed.Family.Friends.Support.
Dr.Reedishappywithhertreatment.Andherprognosisisgood.Andthetrajectoryispointingtotheupperrightofthechart.
Buttheterriblesecrettruthisthatsheisn’tdoingwell.
Herbodyisfailing.
She’sgettingweaker.
Andsheknowsitisn’tthecancerthat’sconsumingher.Thatisn’tthebigC.
Notthecancer.
It.
TheChain.
46
AfamilyhasjustfinishedmovingintoahouseinBethesda,Maryland.It’sbeenalongdaybutnowthedeliveryguysaregoneandalltheboxesareinside.
Thefamilyareposingforaphotooutsidetheirnewhome.Ahappyfamilyinsunlitsuburbs.Imagineanearly-1990sversionofRobertBechtle’spainting’61Pontiac,exceptthekidsarethesameage.Twins.Thehusband,TomFitzpatrick,isasmall,trim,dark-hairedmaninawhiteshirtandthinblacktie.HelooksratherlikethefirstDarrinonBewitched.Heseemsharmlessenough.Hisnewwife,Cheryl,ispregnant.Shehaslong,straightgoldenhairandbangsthathoveracoupleofinchesaboveherprettybrowneyes.Withoutstrainingtheanalogy,youcouldsaythatshehasabitofaSamanthaStephensvibe.
Thelittleboy,Moonbeam,isnowcalledOliver.Achubby,harmless-lookingkidwithmaybeaslightlyeerieunblinkingintensityabouthim.Thegirl,Mushroom,iscalledMargaret.Shetoodoestheeerieunblinkingthing,butyoudon’tnoticeasmuchwithhercurlyredhairandperpetual-motionantics.IfTomwereonefortakinghiskidstoheaddoctors,MargaretwouldprobablybeonRitalin,butTomisnotonefordoctors.He’sold-fashionedlikethat.“Youdon’tneedapillforeveryill,”hisfathersays.
Twodaysaftertheymovein,theyholdahousewarmingpartyandinvitealltheneighbors.Therearecongressionalaideslivingonthisstreet,employeesoftheStateDepartment,theTreasuryDepartment.
Therearethreepartiestakingplaceinthehouseatthesametimethatnight.Thereisthepartywherethemenaregettingtoknowoneanother.TomcomesoffOK.Heseemslikeasquare,boringkindofaguywithhisGIJoehairandpocketprotectorandfridgefullofCoorsLight.
There’sthewomen’sparty.Cherylseemsprettyanddullandmaybeabitsimple.Cherylisatypicalsuburbanmomwhohadherowndreamsbutwhohasgiventhemuptobeasupportivewife.Cherylwantedtobeabakerlikehergrandfather.
Andthenthere’sthekids’partytakingplaceintheTVroom.Thekids’partyisthemostinteresting.Theboysaredissectingtherecordcollectionanddeclaringitlame:JohnDenver,LindaRonstadt,JuiceNewton,theCarpenters.Thegirlsarespillingthefamilysecrets.Ted’sdadisadrunkwhoishavinganaffairwithhissecretary.Mary’smomcrashedhercartwoyearsagoandkilledawomanonabicycle.Janine’smomthinkstheneighborhoodhasgonestraighttohellnowthatanIndianfamilyhasmovedin.
Asthepartycontinueswellpastthekids’bedtimes,OliverisinformedthattheJetsandtheGiantsbothsuckbuttheGiantssuckmorebecausethey’reinthesamedivisionastheRedskins.
Oliversaysthathedoesn’tevenreallylikefootball.Aten-year-oldboynamedZacharytellsOliverthatheisalittlequeerwhosmells.Zacharyalsoinformshimthathismomlookslikeawhore.
Olivercalmlytellstheboythathismomisdead.Hismomwasmurderedandherbodywasmutilatedandthenburnedinafire.
Zachlookspale.HelooksevenpaleraminuteafterMargaretdareshimtodrinkhalfacanofbeershefound.Zacharychugsthecanandsayshehasdrunkbeerbefore.Thatmightbethecase,butnotbeerlacedwithateaspoonofipecacsyrup.
Zachbeginsprojectilevomiting,andthiseffectivelyputsanendtotheparty.
47
Shestaresatthecomputerscreen.Ablankpage,awinkingcursor.
It’safrostyDecembermorning,anhourfromhightide.Thetidalbasinisfilledwithwinteringgeeseandeider.
Shetakesadeepbreathandtypes:Lecture2:IntroductiontoExistentialism.Theexistentialistsbelievedthatourlivesareanattempttoimposemeaningonanexistencewherethereisnomeaning.Forthemthisworldisanouroboros—aserpentthateatsitself.Patternsrepeat.Thereisnoprogress.Civilizationisaropebridgedanglingoveranabyss.
Sheshakesherhead.Wrongtone.SheclicksDeleteandwatchesherhardworkvanishinaninstant.
Kyliecomesdownstairsinhernewredcoat.Shelookshappytoday.She,likehermother,isgettinggoodatfakinghappy.Alittleturned-up-corner-of-the-mouthsmileandaphonylilttothevoice.Buttheeyestelladifferentstory.
She’dbeenhavingalotofstomachcrampslately.Thedoctorshaven’tfoundanything.Theysayit’sprobablystress.Stressthatdoublesherupinpainandgiveshernightmaresandcauseshertowetthebed.
Sheputsabravefaceonit,butRachelknows.
“Canwego?”Kylieasks.
“Sure.Thisisn’tworkinganyway,”Rachelsaysandshutsthelaptop.
“Justgivemefiveminutestoshowerandwecanheadout,”Petesays.
“Weprobablyshouldn’tbelate,”Kyliereplies.
“Ifhesaysfiveminutes,hemeansfiveminutes,”Rachelsays.Onaplanetfilledwithunreliablemen—fatherswhodeserttheirfamilies,husbandswhorunoffwithyoungerwomen—Peteissomeonewhowon’tletyoudown.Still,sheisn’tgoingtoallowanaddicttoshareahousewithherdaughter,soshemakessurethatPeteisreligiouslyfollowinghismethadoneprogram.Heis,andshoringuphisresponsible-providerstreetcred,hehastakenasecurity-guardgigtopayoffhissuddenmassivecredit-carddebt.
ExactlyfiveminuteslatertheyareintheVolvotravelingintotown.TheyparkattheStarbucks,andRachelhugsahotteainawindowseatwhileKylieandPetegoofftogetafewthings.
It’sabusySaturdaymorning,andNewburyportisfulloflocalsandtourists.Martyispickingthemupsoonwithhisnewgirlfriend.Ofcoursehehasanewgirlfriend.TheplanBatlast.ButratherthanrendezvousingonPlumIsland,theyaremeetinginthesafer,moreneutralStarbucksinNewburyport.
AssoonasKylieisoutofsight,RacheltakesherphoneandcheckstheappfortheGPStrackerinKylie’sshoes.Yup,theresheis,walkingupHighStreetandturninglefttogointotheTannery.Everychildofeveryparentisahostagetofortune,butnoteveryparenthasbeenremindedofthissovividly.
SheseesPeteacrossthestreetcarryingawholebunchofshoppingbags.ShewavestohimandheenterstheStarbucksandkissesheronthecheek.
“Whatdidyouget?”sheasks.
“AfewthingsforKyles.”
“Ihopeyoudidn’tspendtoomuchmoney,you’vealreadydonemorethan—”
“Shhh,”Petesays.“Oneofmygreatfrickin’joysinthislifeisgettingpresentsformyniece.”
TheysitthereandtalkandwaitforMarty.He’slate,asusual.
“Finally,here’sthemanhimself,”Petesays,tappinghiswatchandgettingtohisfeet.“Ofcoursethisnewgirlisabeauty.And,ohmyGod,evenyoungerthanthelastone,bythelooksofit.”
Martycomesinallsmiles.He’swearingfadedjeans,aV-neckedgrayT-shirt,andanArmanileatherjacket.Hishairiscutshortandhe’sacquiredatansomewhere.
Thegirlisaspiky-blond-hairedlittlething.ShorterthanMarty,unlikeTammy,butstillgorgeous.Adorableupturnednose,darkblueeyes,dimples.Shelooksasifshe’sbarelyoutofhighschool.
Introductionsaremade.Handsareshaken.Racheldeliberatelydoesn’tbothertocatchthenamebecausesheknowsthatthisoneisprobablygoingtobesucceededbyanotheronejustlikeherafewweeksfromnow.
Kyliecomesinandhugsherdadandshakesthenewgirlfriend’shand.
ThenewgirlfriendsaysthatKylielooksverysnugglyandhipinherredwoolcoat,whichpleasesKylie.
TheytalkbrieflyandRachelsmilesandfadesslowlyintothebackground.Howeasyitistofadewhenyouaresolight.Whentheonlythinggivingyousubstanceisthepoisoninyourveins.
“It’stimetogo,”Martysays,andit’sallhugsandkissesagainandthenthey’reoffinMarty’swhiteMercedes.
“Kyliewillbefine,”Petesaysoverdinnerthatnight.“Shelikesthenewgirlfriend.”
“Sheshouldn’tgettoousedtothatone;therewillprobablybeanotherevenyoungeronenextweek,”Rachelreplieswithatouchofbitterness,surprisingherselfalittle.
Afterdinner,theycheckKylie’slocationontheGPS(she’satMarty’shouse)andtheyFaceTimeher.
Later,Petegoestothebathroomtotakehismethadone.HehasstartedmixingalittleMexicanbrown-tarheroinbackintothemethadoneprogram,justtohelpgetthroughthenight.
Racheldoesn’tknowthatbutshehastotaketwoAmbienandtwofingersofScotchtogetanysleepthesedays.Shesitsdownatthecomputerandtriestogetbacktothelectureshe’swritingbutitisn’tgoinganywhere.ShewatchesYouTube,butevenEllaFitzgeraldsingingColePortercan’tliftherspirits.
Blankpageonthescreen.Flashingcursor.
Rachelfeedsthecatanddecidestostraightenupthehouse.Whocanworkinadirtyhouse?
ShegoesupstairstoKylie’sroomandliftstheduvetfromthebed.Thesheetsaresoakingandthemattressisdamp.Sheshouldhavechangedthebedthismorning.Thisisnowanightlyoccurrence.Noonesleeps.Everyonehasbaddreams.Kyliegoestobedontwobeachtowelsatherfather’shousesohewon’tfindout
RachelsitsontheedgeofKylie’smattressandputsherheadinherhands.Onthefloornexttoherfeet,sheseesKylie’sMoleskinenotebook.Shepicksitupandfightstheurgetolookinside.ThisisKylie’ssacred,privatespace.
Don’topenit,don’topenit,don’t—
Sheopensitandbeginsflippingthepages.Therearedrawings,journalentries,listsoffavoritesongsandmovies,namesforpotentialdogs,andsoon,startingatthebeginningoftheyear.Allthatstoppedthedayshewaskidnapped.Afterthat,thenotebookhasincreasinglyrandomviolentscrawls,pagescoloredallblack,adrawingofthebasementwhereKyliewasheld,andinformationonherkidnappers:Manwaspossiblyateacher.WomannamedHeather.BoynamedJared.AreferencetotheUltimateHoudiniMagicKitshehadgottenasanearlyChristmaspresentanditstipsonescapingfromhandcuffs.Moreblackpagesandspiralssoheavilydrawnthatthepageistorn.Oneofthelastdiaryentries,fromjusttwodaysago,isanaddressforawebsitethatdiscussespainlesswaystokillyourself.Pills?Drowning?Kyliescrawledinthemargin.
Rachelgasps.
“Thisisnevergoingtoend,”shesaystoherself.
ShegoesdownstairstohercomputerandtextsKylietoaskhowshe’sdoing.Halfanhourlater,Kylietextsbackthatshe’sfine.TheyareallwatchingTheMazeRunner
Rachelclosesherlaptopandstaresoutatthedark.
“I’mgoingtodothis,”shewhisperstothenight.
Eventhoughithadbeenthoroughlyscrubbedcleanofwormsandspyware,shedecidestogetPete’scomputerinstead.Shechecksthattheantivirusandantimalwareprogramsareallrunningsmoothly.Theyare.SherunsaprogramthathidesherIPaddress.ShelogsintoTor.FromTor,shegoestoGoogleandcreatesafakeidentity—TheGirlCalledAriadne@gmail.com,becausealltheotherversionsofthenameAriadnearealreadytaken.
ShefindsGoogle’sbloggerplatformandlogsinwithhernewfakee-mailaddress.Shecreatesablogwithaminimalisttemplate.ShecallstheblogInformationonTheChain
Itswebaddressissimple:TheChainInformation.blogspot.com.
Fortheblogdescription,shewrites:ThisisablogforanyonetoleaveanonymoustipsorinformationontheentityknownasTheChain.Thecommentssectionisopenbelow.Pleasebecareful.Anonymouscommentsonly.
IsthereawayTheChaincantrackherdown?Shedoesn’tthinkso.They’llonlyuncoverafakepersonshehasjustmadeup.EvenGoogledoesn’tknowwhosheis.Createblognow?Googleasksher.
SheclicksYes
48
It’smovingdayagain.Theyearis1997.Thetwinshavealittlebrothernow,Anthony.Thistimethey’removingtoaplacecalledAnaheim.Tomhasgottenapromotion.He’sinchargeofsomething.Somethingtodowithdrugs.It’sgoingtobeahigh-stressjob,hesays,buthedoesn’tappeartobeworriedaboutit.
OliverandMargarethavegrownuptobenormal-lookingkids.Margarethasfrecklesandstrikingorangey-redhairlikehergrandfatherbutalsolikethemanhermotherwassleepingwithatthecommune.Oliverisplumpwithverypaleskinanddarkerredhair.Hestillhasthesameunblinkingintensityofeyethathasunnervedpeoplesincehewasababy.
TheirnewstreetinAnaheimisalmostacarboncopyoftheirstreetinBethesda.
LittleAnthonyplaysonthesidewalkwithawholebunchofnewfriends.
OliverandMargaretwatchfromtheupstairswindow.Theydon’tspendalotoftimewithkidstheirage.Margaretisthemoresocialofthetwo,butshedoesn’twanttoabandonhertwinbrother.
Cherylfindsthemintheirbedroom.
“Comeon,now,gooutsidelikeyourlittlebrother,”shesays.
Thetwinsdon’tmove.
Cherylwantsthehousetoherselfsoshecantakeacoupleofdiazepamandhaveavodkatonic.
“Don’twanttogooutside,”Oliversays.
“DoyouwanttogotoDisneylandornot?”sheasks.
“Yes,”Oliversays.
“Thengetthehelloutsidenowandplaylikenormalkids!”shesays.
Theirfirstdayplayingonthenewstreetdoesnotgowell.
Alittlegirlfromacrosstheroad,thealphagirl,JenniferGrant,bulliesMargaretandmakeshercry.ShecallsMargaretuglyandlaughsatherbecauseshedoesn’tknowanyoftheskippingrhymes.
Oliverknowsthathecan’thitagirl,buthehitsheranyway.Jenniferrunsinside,andherolderbrothercomesoutofthehouse.HegrabsOliverbythethroatandliftshimofftheground,shakinghimandchokinghimatthesametime.Olivercan’tbreathe,can’tcryout.Theolderboythrowshimtotheasphalt,andJennifercomesoutofthehouseandcrossesherarmsandlaughs,andsodosomeoftheotherkids.EvenlittleAnthony,butyoucan’tblamehimforsidingwiththemajority.
It’sthekindofsceneyou’dseeinanafter-schoolspecial.Itdoesn’tfeelreal.Butitisreal.Andit’sonlyamoment.Bored,thekidsdriftofftootherdiversions.
Thetwinsslipbackinsidethehouse,hideinthegarage,andwaitfortheirfathertogethome.
Hegetshomelate.HeworksintheFBIfieldofficeonWilshireBoulevard,whichisahellofacommute.
Atdinnerthatnight,thetwinsdon’tmentiontheincident,andAnthonyhasactuallyforgottenaboutit.Tomisfullofchat.Hetalksabouthisnewjobandnewopportunities.Cherylremindshimthathewantedtotellthekidssomething.TomgrinsandasksthekidsiftheywanttogotoDisneylandthisverySaturday.Theyallsayyes.
WhenSaturdaycomes,however,Tomhastowork,buthetellsthemthey’lldoitthefollowingweekend.
“Ibetweneverendupgoing,”MargaretsayspropheticallytoOliverthatnightintheirbedroom.
“Ibetwedon’t,”Oliveragrees.
“Doesyourneckstillhurt?”Margaretasks.
“No,”Oliversays,butshecantellthathe’slying.
MargaretsitsinbedreadingoneoftheBaby-SittersClubbooks.It’stheonewhereMaryAnnegetsoneofthosechainletters,anditreallyupsetsher.Herfriendstellhertoripupthechainletterandnothingbadwillhappen.
MaryAnneripsuptheletter.Nothingbadhappens.That’stheproblemwithchainletters.
AnideaoccurstoMargaret.
Thebadthinghastohappenfirst.
ThefollowingTuesday,JenniferGrant’srabbitescapesfromitshutchandrunsaway.
Thenextdayatschool,Jenniferfindsanoteinherlunchbox:Spillgrapejuiceonyourselfatlunchtimeoryourrabbitwilldie.
Inthecafeteria,infrontofeveryone,Jenniferspillsgrapejuiceonherself.
Thenotescontinue.
Thedemandsescalate.
Jenniferstandsupandsays“Shit”inclass.Sheaskstogotothebathroomfivetimesinonelesson.
ThemostdisturbingoneordersJennifertogooutsidenakedatsixinthemorningandstandinfrontofherhousefortenseconds.Ifshedoesthat,herrabbitwillbereturned.
Jenniferstandsoutsidethehousenakedfortenseconds,andanoteinhercubbythatdaytellsherwheretofindherdeadrabbit.
MargaretandOliverputthePolaroidtheytookofJennifernakedunderthechestofdrawersintheirroom.Nodoubtitwillcomeinusefullater.
Liferollsonasnormal.LittleAnthonyisadjustingwelltohisnewschoolandhisnewfriends.Thetwinsfinallyseemtobesettlingin.
Cherylislonelyandbored.Shecallshermother,andhermothertellshertosuckitup.Plentyofpeoplehaveitworse.Cherylcontinuestoself-medicatewithdiazepam,vodkatonics,andCubalibres.
TwomonthsintotheLAgig,Tomcomeshomedrunk.Hehasdingedthecarandisfuriousaboutit.Cherylandhegetintoabigargument.Tomsmacksherandshegoesdownlikeatonofbricks.
LittleAnthonystartstowailbutOliverandMargaretwatchwithcoolindifference.
49
ThetherapistisinBrooklineinanewofficebuildingoverastorethatsellsbespokeumbrellas.Trèshipster.
RachelwaitsinaplushreceptionareaandskimsnervouslythroughcopiesofBritishVogue.
Rainlashesthewindows,andtheminutehandontherefurbishedantiqueclockmovesslowly.ShestaresatareproductionofManet’sDevantlaglace.Awomanislookinginamirrorbutyoucan’tseeherface,whichRachelthinksissomehowappropriateconsideringherownlooking-glassphobia.ThemusicbeingpipedinisfromoneofthelaterMilesDavisalbums.You’reUnderArrest,shethinks,whichisalsosomekindofironiccommentaryonhersituation.
RachelwonderswhatKylieistalkingabout.She’stoldKyliethatshecan’tmentionTheChainorwhathappenedtoher,butshehopesthatthetherapistwillgiveherstrategiestocopewithhersuicidalthoughts,bed-wetting,andanxiety.
SheandKyliebothknowthatitwon’tworkbuttheystillhavetotry.Whatelsecantheydo?
Fiftyminuteslater,thetherapistcomesoutandgivesRachelalittleencouragingnod.Thetherapistseemstobeinhermidtwenties.Whatdoessomeoneinhertwentiesknowaboutthehumanheartor,indeed,anything?Rachelthinksandsmilesback.
Duringthecarridehome,Kyliedoesn’tspeak.
TheydriveoverthePIbridgeandalongtheturnpikeandupthelanetothehouse.Racheldoesn’twanttopressherdaughter,butKyliehasgivenhernothing.
“Well?”Rachelsaysatlast.
“SheaskedifIwasbeingsexuallyabused.Isaidno.SheaskedifIwasbeingbulliedatschool.Isaidno.SheaskedifIwashavingboyfriendtrouble.Isaidno.ShesaysthatI’mexhibitingthesignsofsomeonewhohasgonethroughaphysicaltrauma.”
“Well,that’strue.Theydidactuallyhityou.”
“Yes.ButIcan’ttellherthat,canI?Ican’ttellanyoneaboutthat.Ijusthadtositthereandlieaboutteenageproblemsandstressandworriesaboutstartinghighschool.Ican’ttellherthatapolicemangotmurderedinfrontofmeorthatpeopleputaguninmyfaceandthreatenedtokillmeandmymom.Ican’ttellherthatIhadtolieonthefloorwithalittlegirlwhohadbeenkidnappedbymymom.AndIcan’ttellherthattheystillmightcomebackforusifweeverbreatheawordofthis,”Kyliesaysandbeginstocry.
RachelreachesouttoherastherainhammersontheroofandpoursdownthewindshieldoftheVolvo.
“We’retrapped,aren’twe,Mom?Ifwegotothepolice,youandPetewillgotoprisonforkidnapping.Andthey’llstilltrytokillus,won’tthey?”
There’snothingRachelcansay.
Whentheygoinside,thehouseiscoldandPeteistryingtofixthewoodstove.“Howdiditgo?”heasks.
Sheshakesherhead.Don’tbringitup,shemouths.
Asilentdinner.Kyliemovesthefoodaroundherplate.Rachel’sunabletoeat.Pete’sworriedsickaboutbothofthem.
WhenPeteandKyliegotobed,Rachellogsontoherblog.Thereisanewnotificationinthecommentssection.FromAnonymous.Shescrollsdownthescreenandreadsthecomment.
Itsays,Deleteblognowbeforetheyseeit.KeepeyeonpersonalcolumnofBostonGlobe.
Shedoesn’tneedtobetoldtwice.ShelogsintoBloggerandclicksDeleteblog.
Areyousureyouwishtoerasethisblogandallofitscontents?Bloggerasksher.
SheclicksYesandlogsout.
50
Wednesday,5:00a.m.Rachelcan’tsleep.
Shegetsup,putsonhercomfyredsweaterandherrobe,andmakessomecoffee.Shesitsinthedarklivingroomforawhilelookingatthelightsofthehousesonthefarsideofthetidalbasin.
Thenshegoesoutsideandwaits.Sheplucksatthatloosethreadonhersweater.Elithecatcomestoinvestigate,andafteracceptingafewstrokes,heslipsoffintothesandandreedstowarwiththepossums.
Abristleofalertnesslightsthenerveendingsonthenapeofherneck.Thisisaneons-deepresponse.Humansarebothpredatorsandprey.
Theinsistentpoundingofherheart.Thetalismanictremblingofherlimbs.
Todayisgoingtobeimportant.
Thecurtainsareopeningonthethirdact.
Themorningsunislowanddim,andtheairiscoldbutnotbitinglyso.
Thesmellofthemarsh.
Thesoundofbirds.
TheyellowofabicycleheadlightonOldPointRoad.
LittlePaulWestonmakesmoreorlessdirectlyforherhouse.AlmostnoonenowgetshomedeliveryoftheGlobe.Paulcyclesdownthelane.Shewavesfromthestoopsoasnottofreakhimout,buthe’sspookedanyway.
“Jesus,Mrs.O’Neill!Youscaredthelifeoutofme,”hesays.
“Sorry,Paul.Icouldn’tsleep.ThoughtI’dwaitforthepaper.”
InsteadofthrowingtheGlobevaguelyinthedirectionofthehousehecyclesuptoherandputsitinherhand.
“Haveaniceday,”hesaysandbikesoff.
Shegoesin,unfoldsthepaperontheliving-roomtable,andturnsonthemainlight.
Sheignorestheheadlinesandgoesstraighttothepersonalcolumnsandthesmallads.DespiteCraigslistandeBay,theBostonGlobestillhasdozensofsmalladseveryday.
Sheskimsthroughtheobitsandloveconnectionsandcaradsandfinallyfindswhatshe’slookingforundertheheadingMiscellaneous:
Chainsboughtandsold:1-202-965-9970.
ShewakesPeteandshowshimthead.
Heshakeshishead.“Idon’tknow.”
“Wearegoingtodothis,”Rachelinsists.
“Why?”
“Becauseit’snevergoingtoendunlesswedosomething.It’skillingKylieandit’soutthererightnow,stalkingus,rememberingus,anddrawinginotherfamilies,othermoms,otherkids.”
“You’retalkinglikeTheChainhasalifeofitsown.”
“That’sexactlywhatithas.It’samonsterdemandingahumansacrificeeveryfewdays.”
“Idon’tknow,Rachel.Sleepingdogs.”
“They’renotsleeping.That’stheissue.I’llcallthisnumberonaburnerphone.”
“MaybeIshouldcall.Idon’tthinkanyoneatTheChainknowsmyvoice.Ifit’satrap,Imean.”
“I’lldisguisemyvoice.I’lldomygrandmother’saccent.”
PetegetsthebagofburnerphonesfromtheclosetandtheyselectoneatrandomandgoontothedecksoasnottowakeKylie.Petelooksattheclock.It’sonlysixthirtyinthemorning.“Tooearlytocallsomeone?”
“IwanttocallbeforeKyliegetsup.”
Petenods.Hedoesn’tlikeanyofthisbutit’sRachel’sshowandhejusthastogoalongwithit.Shedialsthenumber.
Amalevoiceanswersimmediately:“Hello?”
“I’mcallinkaboutzeadinzepaper,”Rachelrepliesinanapproximationofhergrandmother’sPolishaccent.
“Whataboutit?”themanasks.
“I’vebeenhavingtroublevithachainandIvasvonderingifyouverehavingzesametroubleandvhethervecouldhelpeachother,”Rachelsays.
Thereisasignificantpauseonthephone.
“Areyoutheonewhowrotetheblog?”heasksinadeepbaritonethatalsohasatingeofaforeignaccenttoit.
“Yes.”
Anotherlongpause.
“Idon’tknowifIcantrustyou.Andyoushouldbewaryabouttrustingme.Don’tgiveoutanypersonalinformationatall,OK?”hesays.
“OK.”
“Theycouldbelistening.Infact,theycouldbeyou.Orme.Doyouunderstand?”
“Yes.”
“Doyoureallyunderstand?Thedangerisreal.”
“Iknow.I’veseenitupclose,”Rachelsays,kindofabandoningtheaccentnow.
Afewsecondspass.Then:“Sinceyou’recallingyourselfAriadne,youcancallmeTheseus.Perhapsweshallgointothelabyrinthtogether.”
“Yes.”
“Ihopeyouarenotafool,Ariadne.Yourblogwasfoolish.Thiscallwasfoolish.”
“Idon’tthinkI’mafool.I’mjustsomeonewhowantstoputastoptothis.”
“Thatisambitious.Whatmakesyouthinkyoucanstopthisentity?”
ShelooksatPete.“I’vefiguredoutafewthings.”
“Haveyouindeed?Allright,Ariadne,thisiswhatIwantyoutodo.GotoLoganAirporttodayatnoon.BuyadomesticticketgoinganywherethatdepartsfromterminalA.Gothroughsecurityandwaitinthedepartureslounge.Ihavethenumberofthisphone.Bringitwithyou.Imaycallyou;Imaynot.Trustnoone,leastofallme.Recallthatonebuildsalabyrinthnottohidebuttolieinwait.”
Thelinegoesdead.
“Well?”Peteasks.
“I’mgoing.”
“Trustnoone.Notevenhim.”
“Thisneedstoend.I’mgoing,”sheinsists.
“No.You’renotgoing.Thisiscrazy.”
Peteisgenuinelyconcerned,buthismisgivingsarealsopartlyduetohisowndifficulties.Racheldoesn’tknowthatthemethadoneisn’tfixinghimaswellasitshould.Whenyou’recomingoffpuregolden-brown,high-altitudeMexicanheroin,BayermethadoneisnotthesolutionthattheVAaddiction-and-recoverycounselorsthinkitis.
He’sjittery,buzzing,notthinkingclearly.Totakeonthisnewprojectnowinhiscondition?WithRachelinchemotherapy?
It’sinsane.They’reoutofit.Bettertoletitgo.
“Youcan’ttellmewhattodo,Pete.I’msickofpeopletellingmewhattodo!”Rachelsays.
“Yourlifeisatstakehere.Kylie’slife.”
“Iknowthat!Don’tyouthinkIknowthat?I’mtryingtosaveourlives!”Racheltakeshishands.“Wehavetodothis,Pete,”shewhispers.
Petelooksather.
Rachelisbeingliterallypoisonedeveryotherweekat55FruitStreet.
She’ssurviving.She’scoping.She’sstillalive.
“OK,”hesays.“ButI’mgoingtoo.”
51
RachelhasneverlikedLogan.Peoplearealwaysonedge;9/11beganhere.Thelonglines.Thebadvibes.TheRedSoxmerch.
SheandPetegototheDeltacounterandbuyticketstoCleveland.
Theygothroughsecurityandwait.ShehashersunglassesonandherYankeescappulleddownlow,asifthatwillhelp.
Nooncomesandgoes.
“Whatnow?”Peteasks.
“Idon’tknow,”Rachelreplies.
“Whydon’tyoucallthenumberfromthepaper?”
Shewaitsfiveminutesandcalls.
“I’msorrybutthisnumberhasbeendisconnected,”anautomatedvoicesays.
Twelvethirtyarrives,andfinallyherburnerphonerings.
“GotoLegal’sTestKitchenneartheDeltashuttlegatesandorderaCthulhublackaleandachowder.Comealone,”thevoicesays.
“I’mwithsomeone.Hehelped.We’reinthistogether,”shesays.
“Hmmm.OK,ordertwoCthulhualesandtwochowders.Tablenumberseventy-threeseemstobeavailable.It’saboothontheleft-handside.”
“Thenwhat?”
“Thenwe’llsee,won’twe?”
TheygotoLegal’s,sitattable73,andorderthebeersandtwocupsofclamchowder.Theyhavethefeelingthattheyarebeingwatched,which,ofcourse,theyare.
“Whodoyouthinkitis?”Rachelasks,lookingaroundatthecustomersandthestaff.Theplaceispacked.Therearealotofpeopleglancinginherdirection.It’simpossibletotellwhichoneistheone.
Shepullshercaplower.
“Thisisabadidea.Nowtheyknowwhowearebutwedon’tknowwhotheyare,”Petemutters.
Rachelnods.Herinstinctshavebeentotrustthisperson,althoughwhyshouldshe?Pete’sparanoiawouldhavebeenthesaferdefaultposition.
ButsheissodesperatelyworriedaboutKylie.Everychoiceshehasisabadone.Actionisbad.Inactionisbad.Itisaclassiczugzwangsituation.Youhaveparachutedintotheminefieldandthereisnosafewayout.MaybethisishowTheChaintestspeople,bysendingsomeoneoutasbaitforpotentialdefectors?AnypersoninherecouldbeTheChain’sagent.AndnowsheandPetearegoingtohaveto—
Alargemanwearingglassesshufflesoverandsitsdownintheboothwiththem.“Youtookahellofariskcominghere,”hesayswithahintofanEasternEuropeanaccent.Heholdsoutalargehairypaw.“IsupposeIamtheboldTheseus.YoumustbethebrilliantAriadne.”
“Yes,”Rachelsays,shakinghishand.
He’sverytall,sixfiveorsixsix,andhe’sbigtoo,somewherebetween275and300pounds.He’smaybeinhisearlyfifties.Hestillhasmostofhishair,whichislongandstraggly.Hisscruffybeardisturninggray.He’swearingfadedbrownjeans,Conversesneakers,andatrenchcoatoveracorduroyjacketandaT-shirtwithanimageofthecoverofZenandtheArtofMotorcycleMaintenance.Hedoesn’tseemlikethediabolicalmastermindbehindTheChain.Butyounevercantell,canyou?He’sholdingwhatlookslikeadoubleScotchorbourbon.
Peteoffershishand.“Youcomewithher?”themanasks,shakingit.
Petenods.
Themangivesthemavulnerable,weak,rueful,scaredkindofsmileandswigstheremainderofhisdrink.“Well,youcan’thavegottengunsorknivesornervepoisonthroughsecurity,butthat’sonlydelayingtheinevitable,isn’tit?Ifyou’refromTheChain,youknowwhoIamnow,andI’mdead,”hesays.“However,ifI’mfromTheChain,Iknowwhoyouareandyou’redead.”
“Wouldyoureallyknowus?HowmanypeopledoyouthinkhavebeenthroughTheChain?Itmustbehundreds,”Petesays.
“You’reright.Hundreds.Maybethousands;whoknows?Mypointisthatyou’llhaveaphotographofmebynowandyoucanmatchitupagainstthedatabaseandhavemekilledassoonasIleavethisairport.Justaddmetotheto-dolistofwhoeveriscurrentlyonTheChainandthey’llkillmeandmydaughter.Anyonecanbegottento.Youcankillpresidentsandkingsandheirsapparentandprettymuchanybodyifyou’remotivatedenough.”
Hetakesoffhisglassesandsetsthemonthetable.Hishazeleyesarekeenandintelligentandsad,Rachelthinks.Andthere’saprofessorialorclericalairaboutthem.Theyare,perhaps,apairofhazeleyestobelievein.
“We’llhavetotrusteachother,”Rachelsays.
“Why?”themanasks.
“Becauseyou’vegotthelookofsomeonewhohasgonethroughwhatI’vegonethrough.”
Themanexamineshercarefullyandnods.“Andyou?”heasksPete.
“Ihelped.Attheend.I’mherex-brother-in-law.”
“Amilitaryman,bythelooksofit.I’msurprisedtheyallowedthat—ordidyoutrytosneakthatpastthem?”
“He’sretired,andtheysaidthathewasOK.Ireallyhadnobodyelse,”Rachelexplains.
“TheChainisacagealwaysinsearchofthemostvulnerablebirds,”themanmutters,andhestopsapassingwaiterandordersanotherdoublebourbon.
“Eitherofyoueverdoneanykrigingormatrixprogrammingorregressionanalysis?”heasks.
“Kriging?”Rachelasks,wonderingwhatthehellhe’stalkingabout.
“It’saGaussian-processregression.Atoolforstatisticalanalysis.No?”
PeteandRachelshaketheirheads.
Hetapsthetablenumber.“Thenumberseventy-threemeanswhattoyou?”
“JohnHannah,offensivelinemanforthePats,”Petesaysquickly.
“GarySanchezbrieflyworenumberseventy-threewhenhefirstcameupwiththeYanks,”Rachelsays.
Themanshakeshishead.
“Whatdoesitmeantoyou?”Rachelasks.
“Itisthetwenty-firstprimenumber.Thenumbertwenty-onehasprimefactorssevenandthree.Apleasingcoincidence.Tableseventy-sevenisalsofreeoverthere.It’snotprime,ofcourse,butitisthesumofthefirsteightprimenumbersandtheatomicnumberofiridium.Iridiumishowtheyfinallyprovedwhatkilledthedinosaurs,whichwasthebigmysterywhenIwasakid.Theiridium-markerlayerintheK-Tboundary.Atomicnumberseventy-sevenwastheharbingerofdeathforthedinosaurs.It’sanendingnumber.Allbooksshouldendontheseventy-seventhchapter.Theyneverdo,though.Butwe’rebeginningsomethinghere,aren’twe?Hencetableseventy-three,whichisalittlemoreappropriatethanseventy-seven,yes?”
RachelandPetelookathiminutterbafflement.
Hesighs.“Allright.Mathematicsisnotyourforte,Isee.Well,that’snotimportant.Thestory’smoreimportantthanthetechnique.Howlong?”heasks.
“Howlongwhat?”
“Howlonghaveyoubeenout?”
“Aboutamonth.”
Ahungrylookplaysacrosshisface.Agrislysmile.“That’sgood,”hesays.“That’swhatIwashopingfor.I’vebeenoutthreeandahalfyears.Thetrailhasgonecold.Ineedsomeonewiththescentstillonthem.”
“Forwhat?”Rachelasks.
Hisbourboncomesandhedrinksitinone.Hestandsandleavesafifty-dollarbillonthetable.“Iguessyou’reright,Iguesswearegoingtohavetotrusteachother,”hesaystoRachel.“Him,Idon’tlike.Ican’treadhim.Butyou—you’renoliar.Let’sgo.”
Peteshakeshishead.“Idon’tthinkso.Ithinkwe’refinehere.”
Themanrunshishandsthroughhisstringyhairandtiesitbackinaponytail.“Well,I’lltellyouwhat:I’llbeattheFourProvincespubonMassachusettsAvenueinCambridgeinaboutforty-fiveminutes.I’llgetoneoftheprivateroomsatthebackofthepub.They’llletmehaveit.I’maregular.MaybeI’llseeyouthere.MaybeIwon’t.It’suptoyou.”
“What’swrongwiththisplace?”Rachelasks.
“Iwantabitofprivacytotellmystory.Andforustomakeourplan.”
“Aplanforwhat?”
“Thereasonyou’vecomehere,”hereplies.
“Andwhat’sthat?”Peteasks.
“TobreakTheChain,ofcourse.”
52
Theyaremovingagain.Thistimeit’sbackeast.Thistimeit’sclosertohome:Boston.Theypackboxes.Decidewhattokeep,whattodonate,whattothrowaway.LittleAnthonyandTomwillmissLA,butthetwinsandCherylhaveneverreallyfitinhere.
MaybeBostonwillbeeasier.Tom’sdadlivesnearbyanddotesonthegrandkids.
Anyway,it’sanothermovingweekend.
Cherylshiftsthedresserinthetwins’room.
ShefindsthePolaroidOlivertookofJenniferwithnoclotheson.Thegirlisinfrontofherhouse,andthephotographwasprobablytakenfromOliver’sbunkinhisbedroom.
Sheshowshimthephotographanddemandsanexplanation.Olivercan’tthinkofone.Hedoesn’tdenyhetookthePolaroid,though.Cherylcallshimalittlepervertandslapshisface.“Waittillyourfathergetshome,”shesays.Tomreturnswithboxesfromthesupermarket.He’sbeenawayalongtime.Hestoppedatabaronthewayback.
OliverandMargaretarewaitingupstairs.TheyhearCheryltalktoTom.TheyhearTomsay,“JesusH.Christ!”
Tomcomesupstairs.HegrabsOliverbythecollarofhisT-shirt,dragshimdownfromthetopbunk,andthrowshimagainstthewall.
“Youlittlesicko!YouknowwhatIthink?IthinktheyputLSDinyourbabyfood.Whoknows?Imean,Jesus,youmightnotevenbemygoddamnkids!”heyells.
Anthonyhascomeupstairstowatchthefun.Margaretseeshimstandinginthedoorwaygrinning.It’sagrinthatisgoingtocostAnthonyhislife.
“Itwasjustajoke,”Oliversays.
“I’llshowyouajoke,”Tomsays.HepicksOliverupoffthefloor,dragshimtothebathroom,throwshimintotheshower,andturnsthecoldwateron.
Oliveryelpsasthewaterhitshim.
“Thisisfunny,isn’tit?”Tomsays.
Tomkeepstheshoweronfortwominutesandthenfinallyturnsitoff.
Oliverisbawlinghisgutsout.Tomshakeshishead,putshisarmaroundAnthony,andleadshimdownstairs.
Oliverissprawledinacorneroftheshower,stillsobbing.Margaretclimbsintotheshowernexttohimandtakeshishand.Oliverisashamedofhistearsandeverythingthat’shappened.
“Goaway,”hesays.
Buthedoesn’tmeanitandMargaretknowshedoesn’tmeanit.
Hissobsturntowhimpers.Thedaylengthens.ThesunsetsrightdownOrangeAvenue,silhouettingtheplaneslandingatLongBeachAirport.
“It’sOK,”Margaretsays,holdinghertwinbrother’stremblinghand.“We’llgetthem.”
53
ThethreeofthemareinaprivateroomatthebackoftheFourProvincespubinCambridge.
RachelandPetearesittingoppositethebigman.There’safestiveairinthepubbutnotinhere.ThreepintsofGuinnessandthreedoubleScotchesinfrontofthem,whichshouldkeepthemfrombeingbotheredbywaitressesforawhile.Racheltakesherbaseballcapoffandsetsitnexttoherpint.ShelooksatPete,buthemerelyshrugs.Heisn’tsurehowthisissupposedtocommenceeither.
Rachelchecksherwatch.It’s2:15now.KylieisgoingovertoStuart’safterschool,andStuart’smomwillbepickingthemup.Stuart’smomisatough-as-nailsattorneyandcompletelydependable.Stuart’sfatherisex-army;heworksfromhomeandisstillintheMassachusettsNationalGuard.OutsideofMarty,Stuart’smomanddadarejustabouttheonlypeopleRacheltruststokeepKyliesafe.Butstill,timeismarchingon.Rachelwantstogetbackbeforedark.“Oneofusisgoingtohavetogofirst,”shesays.
Thebig,shambling,sad-eyedmannods.“You’reright.Icontactedyou,”hesays.“Firstthingsfirst.Security.Noblogs,noe-mails,nopapertrail,andwhenwemeet,youmakedamnsureyou’renotbeingfollowed.GetofftheTatrandomstops,FrenchConnection–style.Doitagainandagainandagainuntilyouknowyou’renotbeingtailed.”
“Sure,”Rachelsaysabsently.
Theman’sexpressiondarkens.“No,nosure.Sureisnotgoodenough.Youneedtobecertain.Yourlifedependsonthis.Youtookahellofariskmeetingmeattheairport.Andcominghere?HowdoyouknowIdidn’tlureyouheresoIcouldkillyoubothandslipouttheback?”
“Iwasn’tarmedattheairport,butIamnow,”Petesays,pattinghisjacketpocket.
“No,no,no!You’remissingthepoint!”
“Whatisthepoint?”Rachelasksgently.
“Thepointisyouhavetobevigilant.Thelastfewweeks…well,Idon’tknow.Therewasabreak-ininthemathdepartment.Theyransackedhalfadozenoffices,notjustmine.Butthatcouldhavebeencover.EventhoughI’vebeendiscreet,I’vebeenmakingwaves.Ripplesinthepond.MaybeI’vestirredthingsup.MaybeI’mbeingresearched.Targeted.Idon’tknow.Andmoreimportant,youdon’tknow.Youdon’tknowmefromAdam.”
Rachelnods.Afewweeksagoshewouldhavethoughtthiskindoftalkwascrazyparanoia.Notnow.
Themansighsdeeplyandtakesabatterednotebookoutofhisraincoatpocket.
“ThisismythirdjournalonTheChain,”hesays.“MyrealnameisErikLonnrott.Iworkthere,”hesays,pointingbehindhimselfwithhisthumb.
“Thekitchen?”Peteasks.
“MIT.I’mamathematician.ComingtoCambridgewastheworstthingthateverhappenedtomeandmyfamily.”
“Whatdidhappen?”Rachelasks.
EriktakesalargeswigfromtheGuinness.“I’llbeginatthebeginning.IwasborninMoscow,butmyparentsmovedtoAmericawhenIwasthirteen.IgrewupmostlyinTexas.IwenttoTexasAandM.IgotmyPhDinmathematicsthereandImetmywife,Carolyn,there.Shewasapainter.Huge,beautifulcanvases,mostlywithreligioussubjects.Wehadadaughter,Anna,whenIwasdoingmypostdocintopologyatStanford.Thosewerethegooddays.”
“Andthenyoucamehere,”Rachelsays.
“WemovedtoCambridgein2004.Iwasofferedanassociateprofessorshipwithtenure.WhoturnsdownsomethinglikethatatMIT?Allwasgooduntil2010,when…”Hechokesupandhisvoicediesaway.Hetakesanotherdrinkandpullshimselftogether.“MywifewasbicyclinghomefromherstudioinNewtonandwashitbyanSUV.Shewaskilledimmediately.”
“I’msorry,”Rachelsays.
Hesmilesweaklyatherandnods.“Itwasterrible.Iwantedtodie,butIhadadaughter.Wegotthroughit.Athinglikethat.Youthinkyouwon’t,butyoudo.Ittookusfiveyears.Fivelongyears.Thingswerefinallystartingtoturnaround,andthen…”
“TheChain,”Petesays.
“Marchfourth,2015.TheytookAnnawhenshewaswalkinghomefromschool.InCambridge,inbroaddaylight.Itwasonlyfourblocks.”
“Theytookmydaughterattheschool-busstop.”
Eriktakesouthiswalletandshowsthemapictureofabright-lookingcurly-hairedgirlinjeansandaT-shirt.
“Annawasthirteenyearsold,butveryshy,youngforherage.Vulnerable.WhentheytoldmewhatIhadtodotofreeher,Icouldnotbelieveit.Howcananyonecontemplatesuchthings?Nevertheless,IdidwhatIhadtodo.Annawaskeptundergroundinthedarknessforfourdaysbeforeshewasreleased.”
“OhmyGod.”
“Sheneverrecoveredfromtheordeal.Shebeganhavingseizures,hearingvoices.Ayearlater,shetriedtokillherselfbycuttingherwristsinthebathtubandshe’snowinapsychiatrichospitalinVermont.WhenIgotoseeher,sometimesshedoesn’tevenknowme.Myowndaughter.Shehasgooddaysandbaddays.Verybaddays.Mybeautiful,intelligentAnna,inabib,beingfedbabyfoodwithaplasticspoon.TheChainhasruinedmylifeandmydaughter’slifeandeversincethen,Ihavebeenlookingforawaytokillit.”
“Isthereawaytokillit?”Rachelasks.
“Perhaps,”Erikreplies.“Nowitisyourturntospeak.What’syourstory?”
Peteshakeshishead.“No,thisisn’taquidproquo.Likeyousay,wedon’tknowyoufromAdam—”
“Theytookmydaughter,”Rachelsays.“Ihadtotakesomeoneelse’slittlegirl.I’vebeenhavingnightmareseversince.Mydaughter’sinavery,verybadplace.”
“Andyouhavecancer,”Erikcomments.
Rachelsmilesandunconsciouslytouchesherthinninghair.“Youdon’tmissmuch,doyou?”
“AndyouarefromNewYork,”Eriksays.
“MaybeI’mjustaYankeesfan,”Rachelreplies.
“Youareboth.AndyouareabraveYankeesfan.Onewhodoesnotmindgettingdirtylooksfromeverysinglepersoninthistown.”
“I’dbehappyifitwasonlylooks,”Rachelsaysandmanagesanothersmile.
“IhavebeenresearchingtheentityknownasTheChainforoverayearnow,”hesaysandpasseshisnotebooktoRachelandPete.Theyundotheelasticstrapandopenit.
Itisfilledwithdates,names,charts,observations,datapoints,extrapolations,diaryentries,essays.Allwritteninblackinaspidery,tinyscript.Written,theynote,inacipher.
“Atfirsttherewasnothing;fearkeptpeoplequiet.ButthenIdugdeeperandIfoundreferencestoTheChaininanonymouspersonaladsinnewspapers.Inoticedoneortwoobscurehintshereandthere.Anoddcrimereportthatdidnotaddup.Ididasieve-mapanalysis,statistical-regressionanalysis,Markovchainmodeling,atemporal-eventanalysis.Icollatedtheresultsandregressedthem,andIhavecometoafewconclusions.Notmany,butafew.”
“Whatconclusions?”Rachelasks.
“IbelieveTheChainbegansometimebetween2012and2014.Theregressionanalysisleadsbacktoamediandateof2013.Theoneswhorunit,ofcourse,wantustobelievethatitisananciententitythathasnotbeenbestedinscores,evenhundreds,ofyears,butIthinkthisisalie.”
“Anancientprovenancemakesitseemevenmoreunbeatable,”Rachelagrees.
“Exactly.ButIdonotthinkitisancient,”Eriksaysandhetakesanothersipfromhisglass.
“Idon’tthinksoeither,”Rachelsays.
“Whatotherconclusionshaveyoureached?”Peteasks.
“Obviously,thebuilderofTheChainisveryintelligent.College-educated.Genius-levelIQ.Verywellread.Probablyaroundmyage.Probablyawhitemale.”
Rachelshakesherheadslowly.“Idon’tthinkso,”shesays.
“Ihavedonetheresearch.Predatorslikethisgenerallyoperatewithintheirethnicgroup.Evenallowingforthepseudorandomelementinvictimselection.He’saroundmyageorperhapsalittleolder.”
Rachelfrownsbutsaysnothing.
“TheChainisaself-perpetuatingmechanismwhosepurposeistoprotectitselfandmakemoneyforitsfounder,”Erikgoeson.“IbelieveTheChainwasdesignedbyawhitemaleinhislatefortiesearlyinthisdecade,perhapsasaresponsetotherecessionandbankingcrisis.PossiblyadaptedfromLatinAmericanreplacement-victimkidnappingmodels.”
RacheltakesasipofherGuinness.“Youmightberightabouttheinceptiondatebutyou’rewrongabouttheageandthegender.”
ErikandPetebothlookatherwithsurprise.
“She’snotasoldasshepretendstobeandshe’snotassmartasshethinkssheis.Shewasbluffingwithmewhenshewastalkingaboutphilosophy,”Rachelcontinues.“That’snotherareaofexpertise.”
“Whatmakesyouthinkitisawoman?”
“Ican’tputmyfingeronthat.ButIknowI’mright.Iwastalkingtoawomanwhowasusingavoice-distortionmachine.”
Eriknodsandwritessomethinginhisnotebook.
“WereyoucontactedbyburnerphoneandtheWickrapp?”heasks.
“Yes.”
Hesmiles.“TheChainhasprotecteditssecurityverycleverly.Theanonymousphonecallsusingburnerphones,theanonymousBitcoinaccountsthatlastafewweeksanddisappear,theanonymousencryptedWickrappwhoseIDgetschangedperiodically.Thehiringofproxiestodothedirtywork.Veryclever.Almostfoolproof.”
“Almost?”
“Someofitisunassailable.Inmyopinion,itwouldbeimpossibletobacktrackthroughallthelinksofTheChaintofinditsorigins.Thisis,ofcourse,becauseofthepseudorandomelementintheselectionofthevictims.Youhadafreechoiceoftarget,asdidI,andsoonandsoonallthewayback.Attemptingtotracethattrailtoitsoriginwillnotwork.Iknow.Ihavetried.”
“SohowdowefindthepeoplewhorunTheChain?”Peteasks.
Erikpicksuphisnotebookandflipsthroughit.“Forallmyresearch,actually,Ihavecomeupwithverylittleinthewayofsolutions.I—”
“You’renottellingmethiswholemeetingwasawasteoftime?”Peteinterrupts.
“No.Theirmethodsaregoodbutwhenyouaredealingwithhumanagents,mistakescanbemade.Noagentisperfectinhisorhertradecraft.OrsoIsuspect.”
“WhatmistakehasTheChainmade?”
“Perhapstheyhavebecomealittlecomplacent,alittlelazy.Weshallsee.Tellmeaboutyourlastinteractionwiththem.”
Rachelopenshermouthtospeak,butPeteputsahandonherarm.“Don’ttellhimanythingelse.”
“Wehavetotrustoneanother,”Rachelsays.
“No,Rach,wedon’t,”Petesays.
Hedoesn’tcatchhisownmistakebutRacheldoesandErikdoes.EriktakesthenotebookandpresumablywritesdownRachel
We’vecomethisfar,shethinks.“Itwasamonthago.ThefirstweekofNovember,”Rachelsays.
“Theycalledyou?”
“Yes.”
“AndusedtheWickrapp?”
“Yes.Whyisthatsoimportant?”
“TheWickrandBitcoinaccountsareprotectedbythehighestlevelsofencryptioncommerciallyavailable,whichwouldtaketensofthousandsofhoursofsupercomputingtimetobreak.AndIamcertainthat,atleastinthebeginning,theychangedtheirWickrappIDperiodicallyforextrasecurity.And,ofcourse,theremaybevariouslayersofredundancyanddummyaccounts.Butevenso,IbelieveIhavefoundaflawintheirmethodofcommunication.”
“Whatflaw?”
Thewaitressopensthedoorandpokesherheadin.“Willyoubewantingtoorderfood?”sheasksinaScottishaccent.
“No,”Eriksayscoldly.
Whenshe’sclosedthedoor,hebeginsputtingonhiscoat.“She’snew,”hesays.“Idon’tlikenew.Comeon.”
54
AbenchonBostonCommon.Acoldwindwhistlinginfromtheharbor.They’reoppositethememorialtoRobertGouldShawandthemenoftheFifty-FourthRegiment.Notmanypeoplearound.Justafewjoggers,collegestudents,peoplepushingstrollers.
Rachelwatcheshimandwaits.WhenErikfinallyfeelssafehecontinues:“Thestandardconstructionofpseudorandomencryptedfunctionsisgenerallybelievedtobeleakage-resistant,butIdon’tthinkitis.Andwhenyouhavesloppytradecraft,youmakeitslightlyeasierforpeoplelikeme.”
“Idon’tunderstand,”Rachelsays.ShelooksatPete.He’sinthedarktooandhehasasoftwarebackground.
“Theyreachouttousintwoways,andbothways,Ibelieve,canbedecrypted,”Erikgoeson.
“How?”
“Theburnerphonesaren’tassafeaseveryonethinkstheyare,evenifallthecallsaremadefrombrand-newburnerphoneshousedinsideaFaradaycage.Theconsensusisthatcallsmadebysuchamethodwouldbecompletelyuntraceable,”Eriksayswithagrin.
“Butyou’vethoughtofawaytocrackit,haven’tyou?”Petesays.
Erik’sgrinbroadens.
“Thishasbeenmyprimaryareaofresearchforthepastyear.”
“What’sthetrick?”
“Itistheoreticallypossibletomeasurepowerlevelsandantennapatternsthroughsoftwarethatcanbeinstalledonasmartphone.Thephonecanthenanalyzetheincomingcallinrealtime.”
“You’vedonethis?”Peteasks,impressed.
“Ihavebeentinkeringwithsuchaconcept.”
“Youcantraceacallmadeonaburnerphone?”
“No,butthecellphone’sbasestation—theclosestwirelesstower—couldpossiblybefound,”Eriksayscagily.
“You’vedoneit!Haven’tyou?”Peteinsists.
“Tellus,”Rachelpleads.
Erikwaitsuntilajoggerpassesbeforecontinuing.“Iamintheprocessoffinishingupmydesignofahunter-killerapplicationthatcanseekoutthebasestationclosesttowhereacell-phonecallhasbeenmade,evenaburner-phonecallmadefrominsideaFaradaycage.Oncethebasestationhasbeenpinpointed,itmightbepossibletonarrowthefrequencyofthephone’ssignal,givingyouaroughvectorfromthephonetowertothephoneitselfwithin,say,twoorthreehundredmeters.”
Rachelisn’tsuresheunderstandsallthis.“Sowhatdoesthatmean?”sheasks.
“Theremaybeawayoffollowingthethreadintotheheartofthelabyrinth,”Erikreplies.
“AndtheWickrapp?”Rachelasks.“That’stheirprimarymethodofcommunication.”
“Anot-too-dissimilartechnique.Myhunter-killeralgorithmcan’tbreakthemessage’sencryptionorfindthesender,butitcanfindthecell-phonebasestationthat’sclosesttowherethemessagewassentfrom.Obviously,ifthey’recommunicatingfromTimesSquareinNewYorkCity,we’rescrewed,butifthey’recallingfromaprivateresidence,wemightbeabletotracethem.”
“Whyhaven’tyoudoneit?”Peteasks.
“BecauseIwaslastincontactwiththemtwoandahalfyearsagoandtheburnerphonetheyusedtotalktomehasbeendestroyedandtheWickrIDtheyusedtocommunicatewithmehasbeenchanged.Thetrailhasgonecold.Whereasyou…”hesays,lookingatRachel.
“Mewhat?”
“IfI’mrightabouttheirtradecraft,theystillmightbeusingthesameappIDtospeaktoyou.”
“Theyare.TheysentmeamessageatThanksgiving.”
“Perfect!”Erikexclaims.
“Howwoulditwork?”Rachelasks.
“Youwouldhavetoprovokethemorthreatenthemorworrythemsufficientlysothattheywanttocommunicatewithyou.Theymaymessageyouor,betteryet,callyouonaburnerphone.Iftheytalklongenough,werunthesoftware,andwecanpossiblytriangulatethebasecelltowertheirphoneisincontactwith.”
“Andifthey’reinTimesSquareordrivingorotherwiseonthemove?We’llhavepissedthemoffwithnohopeoffindingthem.Andwe’llhavepaintedatargetonourbacksandtheycancomeafterus!”Peteprotests.
“Theplanisnotwithoutrisk,”Eriksays.
“Forus.It’sallriskforus.It’szeroriskforyou,”Petesays.
“WhatwouldIhavetodo,exactly?”Rachelasks.
“No!Rachel,don’tagreeto—”Petebegins.
“WhatwouldIhavetodo?”Rachelrepeats.
“YoumustgetinadialoguewithourUnknownCalleronWickror,better,onthephoneandletmerunalivetracewhentheycontactyou.”
“Whatdoyoumean,adialogue?”
“Youdrawouttheconversationaslongasyoucan.TheWickrtraceisn’tveryaccurate,I’mstillworkingonthesoftware,butaphonetrace?Aphonetracefromaconversationthatcouldlasttwoorthreeminutes?Thatwouldbegreat.”
“Whatwouldhappen?”
“Itracethemthroughthehunter-killeralgorithmandeventuallywithalittleluckIfindthebasecelltowerthatthecalliscomingfrom.”
“Doesitworkwithlandlines?”Peteasks.
“Ifthey’redumbenoughtocallusonalandline,I’llhavethemintwoseconds.”
“IthinkthatwillmakethemthinkI’msomekindofaproblem,”Rachelsays.“Alongconversationlikethat.I’llbedrawingtheirattentiontomeandmyfamily.”
“Yes,”Erikagrees.“AndImustconfessthattheappisnotfullyfunctional.Iamverymuchinthebetastage.TracingaphonecallthatcouldbeanywhereinthewholeoftheUnitedStatesrequiresalotofcomputingpower.”
“WhatifyoucouldignoremostoftheUnitedStatesandjustfocusononearea?”Rachelasks.
“Thatwouldmakethingsaloteasier,”Eriksays.“ButIcan’tdothat.Theycouldbecallingfromanywhere.Evenabroad.I—”
“She’sfromBoston.AndTheChainseemstooperatemainlyinNewEngland.Closetohome.They’rekeepingitnearby.That’swhatIwoulddoincaseoftrouble.”
“Howdoyouknow‘she’isfromBoston?”Erikasks.“Ididn’tnoticeaBostonaccent.”
“She’sgottenridofit.Shetalksverydeliberatelywhenshe’susingthevoice-distortionmachine.Butyoucan’tquitegetridofalltheintonation,canyou?Istartedtosuspectit,andItriedsomethingwithherinoneofourconversations.WeweretalkingabouttheBostonpoliceandIsaidthattheywouldarrestyouforbangingauey.Shelaughedatthatbecausesheunderstoodit.I’dneverheardthatexpressionbeforeImovedhere.There’sprobablyalotofpeopleoutsideofBostonwhowouldalsounderstandit,butmyhunchisthatshe’saBostonian.”
Eriknods.“Thisishelpful.Iftheappdoesn’thavetosearchanywherebutNewEngland,itwouldbealotmoreefficient.Ordersofmagnitudemoreefficient.NorthAmericahasfivehundredmillionpeopleandbillionsofphonelines.NewEnglandhasperhapstenmillionpeople.”
“Yourappmightworkfiftytimesfaster,”Rachelsays.
Eriknods.“Perhaps.”
“Buttheremustbesomeotherwayofdoingthis,onethatdoesn’tinvolvedrawingattentiontoourselves,”Petesays.
“NonethatI’vebeenabletocomeupwith.Youstillhaveadirectcontactwiththem.Itwillberiskybutnotrecklesslyso.Weruntheapp,andwhenwefindoutwheretheyare,weleaveananonymoustipwiththepolice.Maybeevenwaitamonthorso,sotheydon’tmaketheconnectionbetweenourcallandtheirarrest.”
“Idon’tlikethesoundofthisatall,”Petesays.
“Timeisoftheessence.SoontheywillchangetheirWickrIDandwewillhavenowayofdirectlycommunicatingwiththem.Andthatrecentbreak-inhasgivenmepause,”Eriksays.Hewritessomethingdownonapieceofpaper.“Thisismynewburner-phonenumber.Iwillneedyoutomakeadecisionsoon.”
Racheltakesthenumberandlooksathimandthenatthewarmemorialbehindhim.Alineofversegoesthroughherhead,thatoneaboutColonelShawridingonhisbubble,“waitingfortheblessèdbreak.”
We’reallridingonourbubbles,shethinks,we’reallwaitingfortheblessèdbreak.
SheoffersErikherhand.Heshakesit.
Shegetsupfromthebench.“We’llhavetothinkitover,”shesays.
55
ErikgoesbacktohisofficeatMITfeelinggood.
Hehassomehopeatlastafterthelonginformationdroughtthathashollowedhimtothebone.Thisisachance.Thegameiswellandtrulyafootnowandthosebastardsaregoingtogettheirs.
HehadthoughtthathewasgoingtohavetotakeoutanewspaperadintheNewYorkTimeschallengingTheChaintocallhimorhewouldrevealtheirexistence.Buttheywouldnothaverespondedtothead,and,worse,soonerorlatertheywouldhavefoundoutwhoplacedit,andthushislifeandhisdaughter’slifewouldhavebeeningravejeopardy.
RachelisrighttobenervousaboutantagonizingTheChain,butbetterherthanhim,hethinks,andthenheimmediatelyfeelsguiltyaboutthisthought.
It’susagainstthem.Allofus.Rachel.Agodsend,meetingher.She’ssmarttoo.Suchsuperbinsights.OfcourseheshouldhavefocusedonBoston.MostofthedatapointshehasareinNewEngland.ThosepotentialhitshediscoveredinColoradoandNewMexicoareoutliers.
Yes.Thisisrealprogress.
Almostwithalightnessinhisstep,hegetsintohisbatteredChevyMalibuanddrivesoutoftheMITstaffparkinglot.
Hedoesn’tnoticethestressed-lookingwomanwatchinghimthroughherwindshield.Hedoesn’tnoticeherfollowhimhometoNewton.
Perhapsheshouldn’tbeundulyalarmed.He’snottheonlypersonbeingfollowed.
Hehasn’tquitemovedtothetopoftheto-dolistjustyet.Ifheweretotakeafewdaysofforgoonvacationorsomethinglikethathemightbesafe.
ButunfortunatelyforErikthefireisinhisbellynowandhehasnoideathathismovementsand,moreimportant,hisGooglesearchesarebeingmonitored,recorded,andsentforprocessingtoTheChain.
56
Tom,Cheryl,Oliver,Margaret,andlittleAnthonyareonaCaribbeancruisetocelebrateTom’spromotiontoseniorspecialagent.
Tomandthewholeorganized-crimedivisionoftheBostonfieldofficehavebeengettingalotofpositiveattentioninthepress.ThePatriarcacrimefamily,originallyfromProvidenceandoncesopowerfulinBoston,hasbeencrippledbyrats,wiretaps,andstingoperations.TheWinterHillGanghasbeenbrokenup,andWhiteyBulgerhimselfisontherun.TomisquitethegoldenboyattheBureau.Sure,hehashistemperissues,butwhodoesn’t?Heworkshard,andthisvacationiswellearned.
Tombookedthefamilyajuniorsuitenearthepromenadedeck.ForsomereasonlittleAnthonyhashisownbunk,whiletheolderchildren,MargaretandOliver,areforcedtoshareabunk.
MargaretandOliveractuallydon’tmindthatmuch,andAnthony’sattemptstolorditoverthemarequietlyignored.
TheshipvisitsNassauandleavesatduskwithafireworksdisplay.ThecruiseisnearlyoverandtheyaresteamingtowardMiami.It’sreallybeenagreattrip
Anthonyfeelsahandonhisarminthemiddleofthenight.It’sMargaret.
“Shhh,”shewhispers.“There’ssomethingreallycoolIhavetoshowyouonthedeck.”
“What?”Anthonyrepliessleepily.
“It’sasurprise.Asecret.It’sreallycool,though.”
“Whatisit?”
“Maybeyoushouldgobacktosleep.It’sonlyforbigboys.Oliverisuptherenow.”
“Isitawhale?”
“ComewithmeandI’llshowyou.”
MargaretleadsAnthonytotheship’sstern.Oliverisindeedwaitingforthem.
“Whatisit?”
“Overthere,”Oliversays,pointingintothedarkness.“Here,letmeliftyouupandshowyou.”
“No,I—”Anthonysays,butit’stoolateforthatnow.
MargaretandOliverhavebeenplanningthisformonths.TheymadesurethevesseltheyendeduponwasanolderonewithoutCCTVcameras.TheylaidthegroundworkwithacoupleoffalsereportsaboutAnthony’shumoroussleepwalkingadventures.
TheyhoistAnthonyontotheguardrailandpushhimoverintothefoamingwakebehindtheship.
57
AnotherhandoverofKylieinNewburyport.Thegirlfriendisthesameone.Thelittleblonde.RachelisdeterminedtopayattentionthistimeandatleastgethernamewhileKylieretrieveshercomplicatedStarbucksorder.
“Rachel’steachingcollegenow,”Martyissayingtothegirl.
“Wow,that’sgreat,”thelittleblondesays.
“I’msoembarrassed,Ireallyam,butwhat’syournameagain?I’msureyou’vetoldmeacoupleoftimes,butI’vebeenabitoutofit,asyoucanimagine,”Rachelsays.
Martylooksreallyconcernedbythis.Notangry,butactuallyconcernedforRachel’smentalhealth.Chemocanmessyouupinmanydifferentways.“It’sGinger,”Martysaysgently.
“Andwhatisitthatyoudo?”Rachelasks.
“Ginger,believeitornot,worksforthefeds,”Martysays,speakingforheragain.
PeteandRachellookateachother,eyeswide.ThisinformationhasclearlynevercomeupbeforebecauseRachelcanseePeteisasstunnedassheis.Kyliehasnevermentionedit,whichislesssurprising.It’sbeendrilledintoherthattheycan’thaveanythingtodowithlawenforcement.
“TheFBI?”Rachelasks.
“TheFBI,”Gingersays,doingasonorous,deepmovie-trailervoice.
“She’snotjustanagent,though,she’salsogettingherPhDincriminalpsychologyatBU.Busygal,”Martyadds.
“Thatwasn’tmyidea.TheBureausortofforcedmeintothat,”GingersaysmodestlyinacharmingBostonaccent.
“PhD?Youcan’tbeoldenough—”Rachelbegins,wonderingifthewomanissomekindoffreakyDoogieHowsertype.
“She’sthirty,”Martysays.
Rachelcan’tfigureoutifhe’ssayingthatapologeticallyorboastfully.Awomannearlyhisownage?Who’sagrown-upwithagrown-upjob?Boastfully,shedecides.“Youbarelylookeighteen,”Rachelblurtsout.“Youmustbe…”Shetrailsoff,notsurehowtocompletethesentence.
“Bathinginthebloodofvirginseverynight?”Martyfinishesforher.
“Iwasn’tgoingtosaythat,”Rachelsays,butherlittleprotestislostinGinger’sgalesoflaughter.ShethinksMartyishilarious.
“Justahealthyskin-careregimen,”Gingersays.
“Whereexactlydidyoutwolovebirdsmeet?”Peteasks,takingmoreofaninterestinGingerhimselfnow.
“Wealmostliterallybumpedintoeachotherjoggingonthecommon,”Martysays
“He’sdonethatbefore,”Petesays.“That’sassault,buddy.Onedayit’snotgoingtoworkandyou’llbeheadedfortheBigHouse.”
Gingerlaughsatthattoo.Shethinksbothbrothersareariot.
She’spretty,she’syoung,shehasagreatsenseofhumor,andshe’ssmart;ifshecomesfrommoneytoo,that’lljustaboutsealitforMarty,Rachelthinks.“Soyou’realocal,Ginger?”sheasks.
“OhmyGod,ismyaccentthatoutrageous?”
“No,that’snotwhatIwasgettingat.Ijustwonderedwhathighschoolyouwentto.Maybeyouguyswenttothesameone.I’mnotfromaroundtheseparts.”
Martyshakeshishead.“Nah,shewenttoInnsmouthHigh,”hesays.Rachelhasn’theardofit.“Redneckville,”Martyexplains.
“IguessIwasarealbooniekid,”Gingersays.“Luckytogetout.”
Yeah,yeah,Rachelthinks.Realbooniekidsdon’tgetPhDsatBU.Although,Jesus,sheshouldn’ttalk.Harvard.Imean,comeon.Partialscholarship,yes,butevenso.
“SowhatdoyoudointheFBI?”RachelaskswithanotherquicklookatPete.
“Profiling,right?”Petesuggests.
Gingerlaughs.“You’dthink,huh?I’vebeenanglingfortheBAUforyears,buttheBureauinitsineffablewisdomhasstuckmeinitswhite-collar-crimedivision.”
“Funwork?”Rachelasks.
Theytalkaboutevilbankersforabitandinalull,MartyaskshowKylieisdoinginschool.Rachelshakesherhead.“She’sbeenunderalotofstress.”
“Haveyoureadthosee-mailsherteachershavebeensending?”
“Yeah,”Rachelreplies.“Idon’tthinkweshouldtalkaboutthis,er,youknow,here.”
“No,sure,ofcourse,”Martysays.“Only,um,ifKylieisgoingthroughsomething,Gingerworkswithpsychologistsandpsychotherapists.”
“Wealreadytriedapsychotherapist.It’scomplicated,”Rachelreplies.
“Idoknowsomereallygoodpeople,”Gingersayshelpfully.“BothinsidetheBureauandout.”
“Dropit.Hereshecomes,”Petesays.
Despiteherfamily’sconcern,Kylieisallsmiles.She’sgotsomecrazyStarbucksconcoctionwithabunchofwhippedcreamandchocolateontop.
“Weshouldgo,”Martysays.
“Really?Can’twealljustsittogetherforaminute?”Kyliebegs.
Theysitatthewindowtableandtalkastheskythreatenssnow.MartyobservesthatNewEnglanddoesChristmasbetterthananywhereelse.
RachelsmilesandtriestocontributebutPeteseesthatshe’sgettingtired.Theyallsaytheirgoodbyes,andhetakesherhome.
Shecan’tholddownfoodthatnight.
Shecan’tsleep.
Shesitsinbedwithacoldcupoftea.
Againthatthoughttopunishherself:Ifshehadsuccumbedtothecancerayearago,noneofthiswouldhavehappened.
58
Andstilltheydon’tstop.Thedreams.Themaninthesnow.Thefear.Thebed-wetting.Thestomachcramps.Everyday,Kylieisgettingweaker.SheputsabravefaceonitbutRachelsees.Rachelknows.Andsheisgettingweakertoo.Fadingaway.Thelongerthecancertreatmentgoeson,thelongertheprocessofrecovery.
Theyhavetostrikenow.
Petecounselsagainsttheplan.Hehashisowndemons.Thepainiscomingback.Thehunger.Heisfailingtoo.
Kylie’snightmares.Rachel’snightmares.Kyliecryingbehindthebathroomdoor.PetesneakingoffintheDodgeRamtobebyhimself.Rachel’shaircomingoutinclumps.Kylierefusingsleepoversbecauseshedoesn’twantanyonetofindout.TheyhaveallsippedfromtheDrinkMebottle.Theyhaveallunwoundtheclewofredthread.Theyhaveallfallenthroughthelookingglass.
RachelandPetesitonthecolddeckbehindthehouse.
Atlanticbreakers.Asicklemoon.Thechilly,indifferentwinterconstellations.
Peteiswaitingforherdecision.
ShefinishesherScotchandhugsherself.
“Wehavetodoit,”shesays.
Peteshakeshishead.“Wedon’thavetodoagoddamnthing.”
“Erikis—”
“Hecandoit.Hecantaketherisk.”
“Hecan’tdoitwithoutus,withoutme—youknowthat.”
“We’reout.Weescapedbytheskinofourteeth.Wewerelucky.Thisthingnearlygotallofus,”Petesays.
Shelooksathim.Thisdoesn’tsoundliketheMarineCorpsofficerwho’sdonefivecombattours.Doubtiscripplinghim.Ormaybenowthathehassomethingtolose—afamily—hehasbecomemorecautious.Hedoesn’trealizethatthefamilywillbelostiftheydonothing.
“It’snotathing,Pete.TheChainisn’tmythology.Itisn’tself-perpetuating.It’shuman.It’smadeupofhumans.It’sfallible,vulnerable,justlikeweallare.Whatwedoisfindthehumanheartatthecenterofitandbreakit.”
Petethinksforalongtimeandthennods.“OK,”hesaysquietly.
“Good.”
RachelcallsErik’snumber.“We’rein,”shesays.
“When?”
“Iwantmydaughteraway.Safe.”
“Sowhen?Itmustbesoon,beforetheychangetheprotocols.”
MartyandhisgirlfriendcanprobablytakeKylieontheweekend,Rachelthinks.“Saturday,”shesays.
“I’llcallyouatteninthemorning.You’regoingtohavetoprovokethem.You’vegottomakethemcallyouback.”
“Iknow.”
“It’sgoingtobedangerous.”
“Iknow.”
“UntilSaturdaycomes.”
59
Martylaughswithpleasure.“IwouldlovetohaveKylie.Actually,it’sperfect.Gingersuggestedwegomeethergrandfatherthisweekend.I’lltaketheKylester.”
Rachel’sheartskipsabeatortwo.“Wow,you’reatthatstagealready?Meetingtheparents?”shesays,tryingtobejocularandlighthearted,butshedoesn’tfeelthatjocular.MartywouldneverhavemarriedsomeonelikeTammy.Butawhip-smartFBIagentwhoisstillyoungenoughtogivehimthecoupleofboyshe’salwayswanted?
“It’snothinglikethat.I’mnotgoingtoaskforherhandinmarriage.Andit’shergrandfather,notherdad.Nothingserious.Justameet-and-greet.Hertwinbrother’sgoingtobetheretoo.ButI’dlikeKylietocome.Andyou’rewelcometoo.AndPete.They’vegotabigoldtumbledownhousebyariver,apparently,lotsofswingsandwoodstoplayiniftheweatherstaysmild.”
“ThatsoundslovelybutI’mjustgoingtotakeiteasythisweekend.”
“Whydon’tyoudosomethingfun,ifyou’refeelinguptoit?Aspaday.Sendmethebill.”
“MaybeIwill.Youknow,asex-husbandsgo,you’renottoobad.”
“Damningwithfaintpraise.”
RachelsaysgoodbyeandgoesupstairstotellKylietheplans.
“Yougoofed,Mom.Stuart’ssupposedtostayherethisweekend.Hisparentsaregoingtohisstepsister’sgraduationinArizona,”Kyliesays.
“Oh,crap,yeah.”
ShecallsMartyagain.“Wecan’tdoit.I’manidiot.Sorry.Stuart’sstayingwithusthisweekend.HismomisgoingtoPhoenix.”
“Stuart?Thatweirdfrecklykid?Hecancometoo.Gingerwon’tmind.”
“You’llhavetoaskStuart’smom.Idoubtshe’llsayyes.Shedoesn’tcompletelytrustme,andtherefore,byassociation,shewon’ttrustyou.”
“No,it’llworktheoppositeway.She’llseethatIamthedependableone.TextmehernumberandI’llcallher.”
RacheltextshimthenumberandofcourseMartyworkshischarmswithStuart’smom.TheweekendisRachel’s.
Anyotherchemopatientwouldspendthattimetakingiteasyandrecovering.
Rachelisgoingtohuntforthemonster’slair.
ShegoesdownstairstoPete.
“Imean,it’ssensible,right?IfwefindthemwithErik’sapp,theywon’tbeabletotrackusoranything,willthey?”sheasks,lookingforreassurance.
“Iguessaslongasyoudon’tpissthemofftoomuch,weshouldbefine.We’rejustdoingtheequivalentofaphonetrace.Theywon’tevenknowwe’relookingforthem.Idoubtwe’llfindthem,butifwedowe’lllettheauthoritiestakecareofit.AnanonymouscalltotheFBIshoulddothetrick.”
“Sowe’llbesafe?”Rachelasksagain,thinkingmoreaboutKyliethanherself
Petenods.
“OK,”Rachelsaysandsheknocksthewoodentabletopasacharmagainstthepossibilityofsomethinggoingwrong.
60
AhouseinWatertown,Massachusetts,inthelate1990s.It’sanotheroneofthoseSpielbergiansuburbsfilledwithkidsshootinghoops,ridingbikes,playingstreethockey.There’sthesoundoftrashtalk,skippingrhymes,laughter…
But17SummerStreetisahouseofmourning,notahouseofmirth.
It’sbeensixmonthssincethePrincessCruisefromNassau.Cherylisn’toverit.Howdoyougetoversomethinglikethat?
She’sbeengoingtotherapyandshe’sonseveraldifferentantianxietymedications.Noneofthathelps.
Whathelpsisbeingnumb.
Everymorning,assoonasTomandthetwinsaregone,shemakesherselfavodkatonicthatismostlyvodka.ThensheputsontheTVandswallowsaKlonopinandaXanaxandzonesout.
Themorningcreepsby.
Ateleventhirty,themailwillcome.Whenshewasalittlegirl,thereweretwodeliveriesaday.Nowthere’sonlytheone,ateleventhirty.
Sheknowswhatthepostmanwillbring.
Afewbills,someflyers,andanotheroneofthoseletters.
Shecloseshereyes,andwhensheopensthem,thesunhasmovedacrosstheskyandit’stimetocheckthemail.
SheignoresthejunkandthebillsandopenstheletterthatisaddressedtoherDearWhore,itbegins.
Therestofitaccusesherofbeingaslutandaterriblemotherwhoisresponsibleforherson’sdeath.
Thisisthethirteenthlettershe’sgottenlikethis.Allofthemwritteninblockcapitalswithablackballpointpen.
Sheputsitwiththeothersinashoeboxinthelinencloset.
Shemakesherselfanothervodkatonic.Shefindsacocktailumbrellaandfloatsitintheglass.ShewatchesabitofDaysofOurLivesandgoesupstairs.
ShesitsonthebathroomfloorandopensupabottleofNembutal.Shepopsoneinhermouthandtakesadrink.Shepopsanotherinhermouthandtakesanotherdrink.
Sheswallowstheentirebottleandliesdownonthebathroomfloor.
Atfouro’clock,MargaretandOlivercomehome.
They’vegottenusedtowalkinghomefromschoolbythemselves.
OliverturnsontheTV.Margaretgoesupstairstoread.She’sagoodreader.Twoyearsabovehergradelevel.She’sreadingTheTombsofAtuanbyUrsulaLeGuin.It’sverygrippingbuteventuallysheneedstogotothebathroom.ShefindsCheryllyingonthefloorinthere.
There’sfoamaroundhermouth,herpupilsarefixedanddilated,butshe’sstillbreathing.MargaretbringsOliverupstairsandbothchildrenstareatCheryl.
“Theletters,”Margaretsays.
“Theletters,”Oliveragrees.
Theylookatherforawhile.HerfaceisthecolorofthewallpaperinTom’sstudy,akindofpaleyellow.
Tomdoesn’tgethomeuntilseventhirty.ThekidsareinfrontoftheTVeatingmicrowavedpizza.
“Where’syourmother?”heasks.
“Shemusthavegoneout,”Margaretsays.“Shewasn’therewhenwegothome.”
“Buthercarisparkedacrossthestreet,”hesays.
“Oh,really?”MargaretsaysandgoesbacktotheTV.
“Cheryl!”Tomshoutsupstairsbutthereisnoanswer.HestormsintothekitchenandgrabsaSamAdamsfromthefridge.Hetakesabiteofpizza.
Whenhedoesfinallygoupstairs,it’stoolate.TheNembutalhasinducedrespiratoryfailureleadingtocardiacarrest.
Hesinkstohiskneesandtakeshiswife’scoldhand.
Hebeginstocry.
“WhathaveIdonetodeservethis?”hewondersoutloud.
Andthenheremembers.
61
Erik’sbeenatitallnight.Heisfivecupsofcoffeein.HeissixlayersdownintheRussiandollofanonymityandfakeidentities.Hehasscrubbedthetracesandisusingabrand-newMacBookwithabogusIPaddressthatlocatesitinfar-offMelbourne,Australia.Heisdeepinthemaze,butheissafe.Orthinksheis.
He’spleasedwithhisresearch.Allthebuildingblocksareinplace.
Alwayswereinplace.
TheKarush-Kuhn-Tuckerconditionsareoptimal.Theinformationisthereifyouknowwhereandhowtolook.Allthosehints,allthosepersonalads,allthoseconfessions.EverynewpersonintroducedtoTheChainaddsageometriclevelofinstability.Thethinghasbeenteeteringonthevergeofcollapseforalongtime.It’sjustfiguringoutawaytoharnessthedatapointsintoashape.
HesipscoffeeandreadsaninterestingpaperbyMariaSchuld,IlyaSinayskiy,andFrancescoPetruccioneonpredictionbylinearregressiononaquantumcomputer.Theiralgorithmisfascinating.
Butitis,heknows,adistraction,somethingforfutureanalysis.
Amazon’sAlexaisplayingPhysicalGraffitiforthethirdtimetonight.Hestopstolistentotheopeningriffof“TrampledUnderFoot.”
Helooksatthephotographofhimself,hiswife,andhisdaughterinfrontofMoMA,inNewYork.Hiswife’sfavoriteplaceinalltheworld.Hiswifeanddaughteraregrinningwhilehelookspained.
HeshakeshisheadandfightsthetearsandlooksatthebulletpointsonthescreenthathewillhavetocondenseforhisChainnotebook.
ThingsareOK.Whilehehasn’tcompletelytestedtheapp,hethinksitshouldwork.AnditshouldworkonlyforRachel.
Hereordersthelistonhisscreen.Thesearethethingsheisfairlycertainofnow:
Atleasttwoindividuals.Twodifferentsignaturesandmodesofoperation.Familymembers.Siblings?
Boston-based
Notorganizedcrime
Somekindoflawenforcementbackground
“TrampledUnderFoot”endsand“Kashmir”begins.
Thewomanhasbeenwatchinghimforninetysecondsnow.Herheartrateisthroughtheroof.
Herinstructionsareclear:killErik,retrievehisnotebook.
SheknowswhyTheChainpickedher—becauseofhertwopreviousbreaking-and-enteringconvictions.Theythinkshe’ssomekindofexpert.She’snot.Thosewereteenageindiscretions.She’sarespectablefifth-gradeteachernow.ShegotluckythatErik’sbackdoorwassuchanoldlock.Therewasbarelyanyskillrequired.
Shegotlucky.
Erikgotunlucky.
Shehasinfactkilledbefore.AdogontheroadoutonCapeCod.She’dhitit,andshehadtoputitoutofitsmiserywithasnowshovel.
Maybethat’swhatshe’sdoingtoErik.
Hiswifeisdead.Hisdaughterisinanasylum.
Yes,shethinksandaimsthegunathisback.
62
Pete’salarmgoesoffatfiveo’clock.HekillsitbeforeitwakesRachelandquicklyrollsoutofbed.
Hisskinandeyesandinternalorgansarecravingthefix.Ithasbeenafulldaynow.Oneofhislongestfastsyet.Heistryingatechniquecalledstretchingthatsomeguysintheprogramhaverecommended.Youstretchoutthetimebetweenhitsaslongasyoucan—yougoafullday,thenadayandahalf,andthentwodays.Helooksattheclock.Twenty-fivehoursandfiveminutes.Gettingupthere.Gettingclosetohisrecord.HefeelsOK.Sofar.
Hemakescoffee,doesafewpushups,andgoesintothebathroomandlocksthedoor.Whatwouldhappenifheboilshalfasmuchasnormal?Canheweanhimselfoffthatway?Couldthatwork?Halfiscrazy.Two-thirds,maybe.
Hemeasuresouttwo-thirdsofhisnormaldose,boilsituponaspoon,sucksitintothesyringe,injectshimselfwiththegoodstuff.
Heliesdownonthesofaandthebeautifuldreamstakeholdofhimforanhour.
Hewakesupagain.
Hecouldhavegonelonger.He’sfeelingfine.
Hemakesmorecoffee,showers,andprepsthepancakebatter.Hethinksaboutthegunsandforthethirdtimegoestocheckthatthey’restilllockedinhistruck.Theyare.Heexaminesthehuntingrifle,the.45,Rachel’sshotgun,andthenine-millimeter.
Hetookallfourtotherangeyesterdayandhe’dgottensomegoodpracticein.He’dbeenanengineeringofficerintheCorps,butnomatterthejob,everyMarineisaninfantrymanfirst.
Rachelwakesupnext.
Shehasn’treallyslept.
She’dvomitedinthemiddleofthenight.
Elevendayssinceherlastchemotreatment,butithappenedlikethatsometimes.Oritcouldjustbethefear.
TheBoyCalledTheseuswillbephoningtheGirlCalledAriadneatteno’clocksharp.
Shecomesoutofthebedroomandsitsattheliving-roomtable.
Petekissesheronthetopofthehead.“Youdidn’tsleep?”
“Idid.Alittle.Ihadanotherdream.”
Petedoesn’tneedtoaskwhatabout.
Anothernightmare.
Anotherglimpseintothefuture.
KyliefinallywakesateightandStuartcomesoverpromptlyateightthirty.
“Pancakes,anyone?”Peteasks.
HehasjustpouredthebatterintothefryingpanwhenMartyandGingerarriveinMarty’sbigwhiteboatofaMercedes.
Peteturnsdownthegasonthestoveandhe,Rachel,andKyliegoouttogreetthem.
“Well,ifitisn’tLily,Rosemary,andtheJackofHearts,”Martysays,slappingPeteonthebackandkissingRachelandKylie.
“Andifitisn’t…”Petesays,buthecan’tthinkofagoodresponse.
Marty’sdefinitelytheonewhogotthefamily’sgiftofthegab.
They’reanattractivecouple,Rachelthinks.Ginger’shairhasgrownsomeandshehaswashedoutallthedye,sothatnowit’saprettycoppercolor,whichsuitshermuchbetter.Marty’seyesaresomehowgreener.
“Pete’smadepancakesandI’llfryupsomebacon,”Rachelsays.
Theysitattheliving-roomtableandeatbreakfast.
“Thesearegood,bigbrother—didyoumakethemfromamix?”Martyasks.
Peteshakeshishead.“I’mwithMarkBittman.Pancakemixesarethesignofadecadentcivilization.”
“Mychildhoodwasexactlylikethat,”MartytellsGingerandKylie.“Youaskaninnocentquestionandyougetsomelectureabouteverythingthat’swrongwiththeworld.”
“He’slying.Hewasthespoiledoneinthefamily,”Petesays.
“Whatwasyourchildhoodlike,Ginger?”Rachelwonders.
“Wow.Crazy.Don’tgetmestarted.Idon’tevenrememberthecommuneyears.WelivedalloverbeforecomingbacktoBoston,”Gingersays.
“IsthatwhyyouwereattractedtotheFBI?Forstability?”Rachelasks.
“Notreally.Mydadwasanagent,mygrandfatherwasBostonPD,soIguessit’sthefamilybusiness,”Gingersays.
“Areyousureit’sOKthatwedumptwokidsonyou?”RachelasksMartyinprivatewhenbreakfastisover.
“ItalkeditoverwithGinger.She’dlovetohaveKylieandherlittlepaldowntohergrandfather’shouse.It’sabigoldfun-packedplaceontheInnRiver.Kidswillgonutsdownthere.Loveit.”
“AlotofthoseoldhousesinthatpartofMassachusetts,onthefloodplain,aredangerous.Justbecareful,OK?”
“Don’tworry,thehouseisgorgeous—they’vespentalotofdoughdoingitup.”
“Gingerdoescomefrommoney,then?Luckyyou,”Rachelsays.
“Yeah,itmustbefamilymoney,becauseyoudon’tmakethatmuchasanFBIagent,”Martyreplies.
“Unlessshe’soneofthemcorruptcops,”Racheljokes.
“Comeon,Rach,lookather—she’sfromlaw-and-ordercentralcasting.”
StuartandKyliearefinallyready,andPeteandRachelwalkeveryonetothecar.“Lookafterthekids,”Rachelsays.
Gingerhugsher.“Don’tworry,they’llbesafewithus,”shepromises.
Yeah,familymoney,Racheldecides,lookingatGinger’sbag,asmallbutgorgeousHermèsBirkin.
Hugsandkissesallaround,andthefourofthemareoff.
Backinthehouse,PeteplacesamapofNewEnglandonthetable.
“Somewhereinhere,”hesays.
“NowwejusthavetowaitforErik’scall.I’llcheckthattheGPStabsweputinhershoesareworking.”
Sheturnsonherphone,and,yup,thereisKylieheadingsouth.
Theychecktheweather.Drizzle,maybesomesnowflurries.
Couldbeworse.
TheywaitforErik’scall.
Teno’clockcomesandgoes.
Tenfifteen.
Tenthirty.
Eleveno’clock.
Somethingiswrong.
“Whatdowedo?”Peteasks.
“Wejustwait,Iguess,”Rachelreplies.Butsomethingterriblehashappened,sheknowsit.
Peteknowsittoo.It’sthatfeelingyougetaminutebeforethealarmsgooffandtheordnancecomesrainingdown.
Elevenfifteen.
Eleventhirty.
AthickseafogisrollinginfromtheAtlantic.Ominouspathetic-fallacyweather.
Atelevenforty-five,atextcomesthroughtoRachel’sburnerphone.
Ifyouarereceivingthistext,itmeansIhavebeencompromisedorincapacitated.MostlikelyIamdead.Iamsendingyoualinktoaplacewhereyoucananonymouslydownloadthehunter-killerappforphonecommunicationsandtextmessages.Areminder:Thelongeryouareindirectcommunication,thecloseryouwillgettofindingwhoyouaretalkingto,soifyouchoosetouseit,keepthemtalkingaslongasyoucan.IwasnotabletogettheapptoworkproperlywithWickrorKikorotherencryptedapps.Iftheycommunicatewithyouthatway,itwillnotworkproperly.Maybeversion2.0ifI’mstillalive.Goodluck.
ThenexttextisalinktoasitewheretheycandownloadErik’sapplication.
SheshowsthemessagetoPeteandturnsontheTVnews.
Ittakesanotherforty-fiveminutesforthenewstohitWBZBoston.
“AnMITprofessorwasmurderedthismorning.ErikLonnrottwasshotthreetimesathishome…”
Thereportgoesontosaythattherewerenowitnessestotheincident.Thepolice’sworkingtheoryisthatthiswasarobberygonewrong,asthehouseappearedtohavebeenransackedandvariousitemswereapparentlystolen.
“Hewrotemynameinhisnotebook,”Rachelsays.
63
AfewweeksafterCheryl’sdeath,Tompromisesthekidsanewstart.He’sachangedmanandabetterman,hesays.He’sgoingtobookthattriptoDisneyland.He’sgoingtoworkless.He’sgoingtomakethemthefocusofhislife.
Thebetter-manshtickisconvincingforabouttendays.Thensomethingatworkannoyshimandhestopsatabaronthewayhome.
ThebarbecomesaregularwateringholeonhisdrivebackfromtheFBI.
Onenighthemeetssomeoneatthebaranddoesn’tcomehomeatall.
OliverandMargaretdon’tmind.
They’reself-reliant.Oliverspendsmuchofhistimeonhishomecomputer.Margaretisstillreadingalot.Detectivenovelsandromancesareherfavorites.She’swritingtoo.Anonymousletters.
Aboyshelikedaskedanothergirltotheschooldisco.
Thegirlgotaletterthatconvincedhernottogotothedisco.
TheteacherwhogaveheranFgotaletterthreateningtoexposehissecret.Itwasanoldtrickshe’dreadinaMarkTwainbook,buttheteachercameinthenextdayaspaleasaghost.
Margarethasanotherprojectshe’sworkingon.Shespendsalotoftimecopyingandperfectingherfather’shandwriting.
Ontheone-yearanniversaryofCheryl’sdeath,Tomcomeshomedrunk.
Thekidscanhearhimdownstairsinaroyalrageaboutsomething.
TheywaittremblingintheirbedroomforTomtocomecrashingupthestairs.
Theydon’thavetowaitlong.
Stomp,stomp,stomp,stomp.
Thebedroomdooriskickedopen.
“Where’sthemeatloaf?”hesays,whichissuchasillylinethatMargaretalmostgiggles.
Heturnsthelightonandthelaughsevaporate.Tomhastakenoffhisbelt.
TomhadaskedMargarettosavehimsomeofthemeatloaf,butsheandOliverfinishedit.Therewasnothingelseintherefrigerator.
“Doyoueverlisten,youstupidlittleshit?”Tomsaysandhepullsherfromthebedsohardthathedislocateshershoulder.
Heslapshertwicewiththedouble-foldedbeltandthenhetellshertostopcryingbecausehebarelytouchedher.
Hestormsbackdownstairs.
Margaretisinagonyallnightandit’stheschoolnursewhofinallysendshertothehospitalthefollowingday.Tomisguiltyandremorseful.Hestopsdrinking.HestartsgoingtochurchandtoPromiseKeepers.
MargaretandOliverbidetheirtime.
Churchdoesn’tlast.
Acoupleofmonthslater,thedrinkingbeginsagaininearnest.
OnenightwhenTomisblind-drunkonthesofa,Margaretremovestherevolverfromhisshoulderholster.SheandOlivergentlyopenTom’smouthandputthebarreloftherevolverbetweenhislips,andtogethertheypullthetrigger.ThentheywipetheirfingerprintsoffthegunandplaceitinTom’srighthand.
Theyputthesuicidenotethey’vewrittenonthecoffeetable.
Theyworkthemselvesupintofaketearsanddial911.
Afterbeingtakenintofostercare,thekidsaredumpedwiththeirgrandfatherDanielathisfly-riddentumbledownhousebytheInnRiverinaswampypartofMassachusetts.
GrandfatherDanielisretiredBostonPD.
Theyhaven’tseenalotofhimbuthesureashellremembersthem.HeremembersthemwhentheywereonlysohighandlivingonacommuneinupstateNewYork.
Danieldoesn’tgointothecitymuchanymore.Helivesbyfishing,hunting,andtrapping,andhishouseisdecoratedwiththeskullsofmanydifferentanimals.
Danielmeetsthewomanfromsocialserviceswithabroken-openshotgunoverhisshoulder.MargaretandOlivergivetheirgrandfatherahug.
Thewomanfromsocialservicesisrelievedthatthekidsseemtoknowandliketheoldman.
“Theirstepmomwasn’ttoofondofmeorthisplace,butIseenthekidsacoupleoftimes,”Danielexplains.
Whenthesocialserviceswomanhasgone,DanieltakesthemintothekitchenandgivesthemeachacanofBudweiser,whichtheyacceptnervously.Abutcheredhogishangingupsidedownoverthelargekitchensink.Itswhiteskinisblackwithflies.
Danielshowsthekidshowtoopenthebeercans.It’sjustlikewithaCoke.HetellsthemtheycancallhimRedorGrandpa.Heasksthemwhattheywanttodowiththeirlives.Oliversayshewantstomakealotofmoney,maybeincomputers,andMargaretsaysshewantstobeanFBIagentlikeherdad.
Danielconsidersthat.“We’llsee,”hesays.“Firstthingwehavetodoisfixthemnames.”Helooksattheboy.“We’llcallyouOlly.Youlikethat?”
“Yes,sir,”Ollysays.
Heexaminesthegirl.“Andwithyou,it’sobvious.Thatmopofyours.We’regoingtocallyouGinger.”
64
Themonsterisoutthere,rightouttherethroughtheglassinthefog.
ItkilledErikandwhenitfindsthenameRachelinthenotebook,itwillkillhertoo.HerandKylieandPeteandMartyandGingerandeverybodyconnectedwithher.
There’snochoicenow.Choicewasalwaysanillusion.
There’sonlyonethingtodo.
Herhandistrembling.
Peteislookingatherexpectantly.
Sheknowswhatsheisgoingtodonext.
Firstofall,shecallsMartytocheckthatKylieissafeandsound.Kylieisn’tansweringherphone,asusual,buttheGPSlocatorhasthematthemallatCopleyPlace.
Martyanswersimmediately.“Yeah,she’sfine,we’rejustfinishingupatthemall,”hesays.
“Youhaveherinyourlineofsight?”
“Yeah,ofcourse.She’sattheAdidasstorewithStuart.”
“Andthenyou’regoingtoGinger’sdad’shouse?”
“Grandfather’shouse.What’sthematter,Rach?Icantellsomething’sup.”
“IjustwanttoknowthatKylie’ssafe.”
“She’ssafe.Ginger’stwinbrotherwillbethere,andGingerisanactualcard-carryingFBIagent,andhergrandfatherisex–BostonPD.Ican’tthinkofmuchsaferthanthat.”
“That’sgood,Marty.Keephersafe,OK?”
“Iwill,sweetie.Youtakecarenow.Takeiteasythisweekend,forGod’ssake.Youneedyourstrength,okay?”
“Iwill.”
Theysaygoodbyeandhangup.
“Whatnow?”Peteasks.“Thecops?”
Racheltiesherhairbackinaponytail.“Kylie’ssafebuttheyaregoingtobecomingforus.Weneedtogetoutofthishouse.”
“What’stheplan?”Peteasks.
“Wedownloadtheapp,seeifitworks.Ifwecanfindthem,we’lllocatetheirresidenceandcallthepolice.”
“Andifwecan’t?”
“WecallGingerandtellhereverythingandaskhertotakeKylieintoprotectivecustody.ThenIguessweturnourselvesin.”
Petelooksather.“Howlongdoyouthinkwehave?”
“Idon’tknow.Hours?Let’sgetstarted,”Rachelsays.
SheturnsonErik’sapp.Ithasdownloadedsuccessfullybutwhenshetriestoopenit,amessageflashesonthephone’shomescreen:Forthisapptoworkyouneedtoenterthenextnumberinthissequence:8,9,10,15,16,20…Ifyouenterthewrongnumberyourphonewillbelockedandalldevicesassociatedwithyouraccountwillbedisabledfortwenty-fourhours.
RachelshowsthemessagetoPete.
“Thatisapowerfulbitoftech.Weneedtheexactdigitsorwe’rescrewed,”Petemutters.
“Whataboutthenumberpattern?Recognizeit?”
Heshakeshishead.“It’snotprimenumbers.It’snotthesumofthenumbersbefore.It’snotanyseriesthatIknowofoffhand.”
“Wegetonlyoneshotatthis.Ifwemessthisup,wewon’tbeabletogetbackinuntiltomorrow.”
“Andtomorrowwillbetoodamnlate.”
“Eight,nine,ten,fifteen,sixteen,twenty,”Rachelsaysaloud.
“I’llGoogleit,”Petesays,butallhegetsarelinkstoYouTubevideosteachingkidshowtocount.
Rachelcloseshereyesandtriestothink.Whatsequenceisthis?It’ssomethingshehasseenbeforesomewhere.
“Anadditionalsecurityprotocolmakesnosenseatthisstage,doesit,Pete?”shesays,thinkingoutloud.“Imean,Erikknowsthattheonlypersonwhoisgoingtodownloadthisappisme.Right?”
“That’sright,”Peteagrees.
“AndpossiblyTheChain,ifTheChainhasgottenhisnotebookandbegundecipheringit.Sowhatcodewouldhehaveintroducedherethatwouldslowthemdownbutallowmetopassthroughfreely?”
“Idon’tknow,”Petesays.
Rachelputsthephonedownonthetableandpacesthelivingroom.Rainpoundsontheskylight.AfoghornsoundsfromtheCoastGuardship.
“Somethingfromyourphilosophybackground?”Petesuggests.
“AllheknowsaboutmeisthatIhavecancer,I’mamom,andmyteamistheNewYork—shit,Ihaveit!”
Shepicksupthephoneandtypesin23
Amessageflashesonthescreen:Thatisthecorrectnumber.Youmaystarttheapplicationafterenteringyourusername.
“Twenty-three?”Petesays.“Idon’tgetit.It’sprime,buttwentyisn’tprime.”
“They’reretiredYankees’numbers.ABostonian’snotgoingtoknowthat,butaYankeesfanwill,”Rachelsays.
TheappopensuponamapoftheEasternSeaboardoftheUnitedStates.Theappissimpleanduser-friendly.There’sagreenBeginTracebuttonandaredEndTracebutton.Thesimplicity,however,concealssomeprettyclevermathematicsandstatisticalanalysis.
“What’stheusername?”Peteasks.
RacheltypesRachel.
Usernamenotrecognized.Twomoreloginattempts,amessageonthescreensays.
ShetypesErik.
Usernamenotrecognized.Onemoreloginattempt.
ShetypesAriadne.
Ascreenfulloftextappears.
Welcome,Ariadne.Thisappshouldworkwithtextmessagesandwithphonecommunications.Thebetaversionwillalsowork,tosomeextent,withencryptedcommunicationapps.Version2willworkwithmostencryptedmessageapps.Simplyclicktheredbuttonwhenyouareonthephoneandthisappwillattempttolocatethecellphonetowernearesttothecall’spointoforigin.Thelongeryouareincommunicationwithyourinterlocutor,thecloserandmoreaccuratetheappwillbe.
SheshowsthetexttoPete.
Hereadsit,nods.“SoiftheyrespondtoyourWickrtextwithWickronly,itmightnotwork.”
“Iguessnot.”
“Ifweweren’tundertimepressure,I’dsaywaituntiltomorrowmorning.Sundaymorning,early,mostpeoplearegenerallyathome.Saturdayafternoon…”
“It’snowornever.Wehavetotakethegamble.”
“OK,then.”
“Heregoes,”Rachelsays.
SheclickstheWickrbuttononherphoneandbeginstyping.
IwasthinkingaboutwhatyousaidonThanksgiving.Iwanttoknowifthere’sawayofgettingoffTheChainforever.I’mhavingnightmares.Mydaughtergetsterriblestomachcramps.CanwesomehowbuyourselvesoffTheChainpermanently?Thankyou.
SheshowsthemessagetoPeteandsendsittoWickr2348383hudykdy2.
Tenminuteslater,shegetsanotificationthatherinterlocutorissendingheraresponse.SheclicksBeginTrace,andErik’shunter-killeralgorithmpowersupimmediately.
Itisapleasantsurprisetohearfromyou.ItisalittleearlyforChristmaspresents,don’tyouthink?ItiswithregretthatImustinformyouthatwedonotoffertheserviceyourequire,themessagesays.
TheGPSmaponRachel’sphonelightsup,butthennothinghappens.Themapfreezesandtheappcrashes.Shestabsatthescreen,butit’sdead.
“Itdidn’twork,”shesays.
“Hedidn’tthinkitwasgoingtoworkwiththeencryptedapps.Hesaidthephonetraceworksbetter.”
“IfIsay‘Pleasecallme,’itwilldefinitelymakethemsuspicious,”Rachelsays.
“Idon’tknow.”
AthoughtoccurstoRachel.“Youknow,Erikmightbeacrazyperson.Thismighthavenohopewhatsoeverofworking.”
“MITdoesn’temploydummies.”
“Buthestillmightbecrazy.Maybethegriefhasdrivenhimmad?”
“Doyouthinkyoucanriskanothercommunicationwithoutpissingthemoff?”
“Whatdoesitmatter?Assoonastheyfindmynameinthenotebook,they’llcomeforus.”
“Wedon’tknowthatthey’vegotthenotebook.Hemighthavehiddenitinasafeorsomething.”
Rachellooksthroughthewindows.“Theyhaveit,”shesays.“They’rereadingitrightnow.Soonerorlater,they’llputtwoandtwotogether.”
“Myfault.I’mreallysorryaboutthat,”Petesays.
“Icouldn’thavegottenKyliebackwithoutyou,Pete.”
RachelopenstheWickrappagain.
TheremustbesomewayofgettingoffTheChainforever.SomethingIcandoforyouorsomeamountofmoneyIcanpay.Awaytoclosethingsoffpermanently,soweknowthatwearesafe.Please,forthesakeofmylittlegirl,tellmewhatitis,shetypesandsendsthemessage.
Theyhavetowaitonlytwominutesforaresponse.AgainitcomesthroughWickr,notthephone.Shefiresupthehunter-killerapplication.
Youmustbeprettystupid.Whatwasthefirstthingwetoldyou?It’snotaboutthemoney.It’saboutTheChainitself.It’sgottokeepgoingforever.LoseonelinkinTheChainandthewholethingcollapses.OK,dummy?Wickr2348383hudykdy2replies.
Thehunter-killeralgorithmsearchesandrecalibrates,andErik’sGPSlocatorlightsupbutoncemorecrasheswithnoresult.Rachel’sphonefreezesandshehastoturnitoffandonagain.
“Nothing,”Rachelsays.
“Shit!”
“I’lltryonemore,”Rachelsays.
Please.I’mbeggingyou.Forthesakeofmyfamily,isthereanythingIcandotogetoffTheChain?shetypes.
SheshowsittoPete.“Sendit,”hesays.
Shesendsthemessage.Thistimethereisnoquickresponse.
Fiveminutesgoby.
Ten.
“That’sit,then,”Rachelsays.
HeriPhonerings.
Shefumblesforitanddropsitontothefloor.
Itbouncesonitsedgeandthescreencracks.
“Shit!”RachelscreamsandgrabsthephoneandturnsonErik’sapp.“Hello?”shesays.
It’stheUnknownCaller.Thevoice,asusual,isdisguised.
“Thereisonethingyoucandoforus,Rachel.Whydon’tyoukillyourself,youstupidbitch!”thevoicesays.
Thehunter-killeralgorithmflarestolifeandbeginszoominginonanareaofMassachusettsnorthofBoston.
“Please,I—”
“Goodbye,Rachel,”theUnknownCallersays.
Keephertalking,Petemouths.
“Wait.Don’tgo.Iknowthingsaboutyou.I’vefoundoutstuff,”Rachelsays
There’sapausebeforethevoiceasks,“Whatthings?”
Rachel’smindraces.Shedoesn’twanttobeassociatedwithErikincasetheyhaven’tgotthenotebookafterall.WhatthingsaboutTheChaincouldshehavefoundoutonherown?
“ThewomanwhotookmydaughterwasnamedHeather.HerhusbandaccidentallytoldKyliethathersonisnamedJared.Itshouldn’tbedifficulttofindawomannamedHeatherwithasonnamedJared.”
“Whatwouldyoudowiththatinformation?”thevoiceasks.
“WecouldstarttracingourwaybackwardtotheverybeginningofTheChain.”
“Thatwouldbesigningyourowndeathwarrant,Rachel.You’reaverystupidwoman,gamblingwithyourlifeandyourdaughter’slifelikethis,”thevoicesays.
Allthewhiletheytalk,theappzerosinonasmallerandsmallerareaofMassachusetts.AdiminishingcirclewhosefocusisnowsomewheresouthofIpswichandnorthofBoston.
“Idon’twanttocauseanytrouble.I—Ijustwanttofeelsafe,”Rachelsays
“Ifyouevercontactusagain,you’llbedeadbytheendoftheday,”thevoicesays.Thecallisdisconnected.
Buttheappworked.ThephonecallwasmadeintheChoateIslandareainthemarshesofEssexCounty.ThecelltowernearestthecallerisonChoateIslanditself.
RacheltakesascreenshotofthemapandshowsittoPete.
“Thisisit!”hecries.
“Let’sgo!”Rachelagrees.
Theyrunoutsidetothetruck.
TheyspeedsouthalongRoute1AthroughRowleyandIpswich.InIpswichtheygetonto133,anarrowroadthroughIpswich’sGreatMarsh.
TheydriveascloseastheycantoChoateIslandbuttherearenoroadsontotheboggyislanditself,sothey’llhavetowalkifthey’regoingtofindthecelltower.Thefogisn’tsobaddownhere,buttherainischillyandcomingatthemslantwisefromtheocean.
Theyparkthepickupandgetout.Theyputoncoatsandhikingboots.Pete’sarmedhimselfwiththerifle,theGlock,the.45,andtwoflash-bangstungrenadesthathethinksmightcomeinhandy.Racheltakeshershotgun.She’sshaking.She’ssoafraid,she’sfindingithardtobreathe.
“Don’tworry,Rach.There’snotgoingtobeanytroubletoday.Thisisascoutingmission.We’llgettheinfoandcallthefeds.”
TheywalkalongatrailintotheswampyterrainnearChoate.Despitetherainandthecold,it’ssurprisinglyinsect-ridden.Thelandoneithersideofthepathischokedandovergrown,denseandclaustrophobic.HereandtheretheygetglimpsesoftheInnRiver,thickandsludgyunderalayerofbrownalgae.TheInnisatributaryoftheMiskatonicRiver,whichcurvesthroughthemiresomewheretothenorth.Thewholemarshseemstobecavinginward,leaningtowardsomehiddencenterofmass.SomethinglikeSpanishmossishangingfromthetrees;birdsscreechintheupperbranches,andwinterhasn’thaditsusualcullingeffectonthebitingflies.
Rachel’sspooked.They’regettingclose.Shecanfeelit.
Thedreamsandsonglinesandnightmaresareleadinghere.
TheyhavebeenwarnedoffprobingintoTheChain,andheresheisfollowingTheChainbackwardalongAriadne’sthread.
Butthelabyrinthisnotgoingtogiveupitssecretssoeasily.
TheysearchtheswampsandbogsonChoateforthenextthreefreezing,filthyhoursandcomeupwithnothing.
Nocell-phonetower.
Nocell-phonerelaystation.
Barelyanysignofcivilizationatall.
Theystopatalittleclearinganddrinkfromtheirwaterbottlesandthentheystartoutagain.Morefrustratinghoursofthis.Bydusk,theyareutterlysoakedandexhaustedandbittenrawbybugs.Rachelisn’tsureiftheyareonChoateIslandorbackonthemainlandoronadifferentislandinadifferentriversystemcompletely.Theyhavecrossedahundredlittlestreamsandtrails.She’sbeat.ChemotherapypatientsdonotgotrekkingthroughbogsinDecember.
Shegaspsforair.
She’sdyingrighthere,rightnow,outintheswamp.Petecan’tknowthis.
Shelooksatthethreateningskyoverhead.Toweringgray-blackcloudsloomingoverthemarshestothewest.“Didn’ttheweatherforecastsaysnow?”shesays.
“Possibly,yeah.Andwedefinitelydonotwanttobeouthereinthesnow.”
“Ifyouweregoingtobuildacell-phonetower,wherewouldyouputit?”Rachelaskshim.“You’retheengineer.”
“Onthehighground,”Petesays.
“Isthereanyhighground?”
“Whataboutthathilloverthere?”Petesays.
It’saverylittlehill,maybethirtyfeetabovesealevel.It’sfivehundredyardsawaythroughthethicket.
“Whynot?”
Theyaretwo-thirdsofthewayupitwhentheybegintoseetheoutlineofthecell-phonetower.Ithasfallenover,orperhapsitpartiallysankandtippedintotheground.
Theyreachthetopofthehill,theirbreathingragged.
Fromuphere,youcanseethewholeInnRiversystemstretchingtothewest.Thesicklygreenalluvialplainisvast,fetid,andunholy,asifit’scoveringupalostcorsaircitywaitingtobeexhumedfromitsownsewers.
Rachel’sheartsinks.
Erik’splanhadbeenwhat,exactly?Whatdidheexpectthemtodoaftertheyfoundthecell-phonetowerclosesttowhereTheChain’scallshadcomefrom?
“Nowwhat?”sheasksPete.
Petelooksatthecloudsandcheckshiswatch.It’sfive.They’vebeenhikingallday.They’recoldandverywetandhedoesn’twantRacheltobeintheswampsatnight.Notwithoutproperequipmentandwithasnowstormcoming.
Andhehasotherissues.Hemessedupthismorningwiththattwo-thirds-dosebullshit.Hisskinisstartingtocrawl.Hiseyesaredry.He’sgettingthesweatsrealbad.Ithasn’tfullyhityet,butitwill.
Heneedsthefix.
Soon.
“Doyouthinkweshouldcallitaday?”heasks.
Rachelshakesherhead.They’resoclose.Shehastofindthembeforetheycomebackforher.Theywon’tgetanotherchanceatthis.Ithastobenow.
“Callitaday?”Peteasksagain.
“Andthenwhat?”Rachelasks.
“Gotothefeds?Tellthemeverything.Letthemsearchforthehouse.”
“We’llgotojail.”
“TheDunleavysmightnotcooperatewiththecops,”Petesays.
Rachelshakesherheadagain.“They’llhelpusonlyiftheyknowTheChainisfinished.”
Petenods.
“What’sthatovertherebytherivertothenorth?”Rachelasks,takingPete’sbinoculars.“Isthatacabin?”
Shescansthestructure.
It’saboutthree-quartersofamileahead.Abigoldhousewithadeckthatgoesallthewayaroundtheoutside.Andit’sonadirectvectorwiththecell-phonetower.
“It’sdefinitelyworthacloserlook,”Petesays.“Butwe’regoingtohavetowadeanotherstreamortwo.It’sactuallyoveronthemainland,Ithink.”
Theyhikethroughanicystreamthatcomesuptotheirthighsandthenupthroughasparselittlewoodtowithinafewhundredyardsofthecabin.
It’salargedwellingbuiltpartiallyonstiltsnearariver.It’snexttoacoupleofderelictfarmbuildingssinkingbackintothemarshtotheeast.Severalvehiclesareparkedundertheverandaonthenorthsideofthestructure.
ThehairsonthebackofRachel’sneckarestandingup.
Somethingaboutthisplacescreamsdenouement
“Whatdoyouwanttodo,Rach?”Peteasks.
“Let’strytogoalittlecloser.Ifwecangetalookatthoselicenseplates…”
“We’llhavetocrawl.Niceandlowtotheground.Thecover’snotsodensehere;wecouldbeseen,”Petesays.
Rachelshouldershershotgunonitsstrap,drinksthelastofherwater,andfollowsPeteastheycrawltowardthecabin.
Theterrainisboggyanddampwithbrambles,thistles,andbeach-plumbushes.
Withinthirtysecondstheyarescratched,cut,bleeding.
Snowbeginstofall.
They’reahundredyardsawaynow.
It’sanuglyproperty,allanglesandungainlyadditionsfromdifferenteraswithdifferenttimbers.Ithasbeenexpandedveryrecentlytoaccommodatewhatappeartobeacoupleofextrabedroomsontheupperstory.
Petetakesoutthebinocularsandtriestoreadtheplatesonthevehiclesunderthehouse,buthecan’tquitemakethemout.“Rachel,you’vegotgoodeyes,doyouwanttotry?”
Shescansthecars.AMercedes,acoupleofpickuptrucks,aToyota.
Sheseessomeonesteppingontothewraparoundbalcony.
“Kylie!OhmyGod!”shescreams.Shescramblestoherfeetandbeginsrunningtowardthehouse.
“Whatthehell?”Peteyells,momentarilystunned.
Shehastwentyyardsonhim,butPetecatchesherinsevenseconds.Hetacklesherandshegoesdownjustinfrontofanoldtreestump.
“Whatthehellareyoudoing?”Petesays,turninghertofacehim.
Shestrugglesviolentlytobreakfreeofhisgrip.“They’vegotKylie!They’vegother!Isawheronthebalcony,”Rachelsaysbreathlessly.
Petelooksupoverthetreestumptowardthebalcony.There’snoonethere.“You’remistaken.”
“Itwasher!Isawher!”
Peteshakeshishead.There’snowaythey’vegottenKylie.She’swithMartyandthey’vebeencareful.
Rachelishyperventilating.
“It’snotKylie,”Petewhispers.“AndIcanproveit.WeputtheGPStrackerinhershoes,remember?Icanshowyouexactlywheresheis,andIpromiseyouit’snothere.”
“ShowmeontheGPS,”Racheldemands.“IknowwhatIsaw.”
PeteopenstheGPSappandshowsRachelthatKylieisnowherenearthem.“She’sinBoston.”
Rachellooksatthephone.Sureenough,Kylie’sGPSisbeepingfromdowntownBoston,nothere.“Iwassurethatwasher,”shesays,confused.
“Comeon,let’sgetbacktothecoverofthosebushesbeforewe’reseen,”Petesays.
65
InnsmouthHigh.Gingerathertenth-gradecareerday.
“Sowhatdoyouwanttodowithyourlife,Margaret?”
“IwanttobeanFBIagentlikemyfather.”
“Thisisverylaudable,sweetie,butyou’llneedtoimprovesomeofyourgrades.”
“Whichones?”
“YourEnglishisgreat,butyourmathandscienceneedalittlework.Yourbrothercanhelpyou,I’msure.”
“Yeah,helovesthatstuff.”
OliverhelpingGingerwithherhomeworkintheirgrandfather’sbigramshacklehousebytheInnRiver.Screensandanttrapsandbugsinthesummer.Woodstovesandcoldandkeroseneheatersinthewinter.
DanielteachingthetwinshowtohuntinthedarkplacesoftheMiskatonicValley.Danielteachingthetwinshowtoskinandsmokeandpreservethemeat.
Danieltellingthekidsoldcopstories.Oldwarstories.
GingerandOliverworkhardandtheybothgetintoBU,whichmakesDanielproud.Ollystudiessoftwareengineering.Gingerstudiespsychology.
Bothofthemdoverywellindeed.Theonlyflyintheointmentistheamountofmoneytheyhavetoborrowforstudentloans.Danielisnotawealthymanandtheyhavegrownuppoor.
Butaftergraduation,OliverisheadhuntedbyhalfadozenSiliconValleystart-upsandGingerisheadhuntedbytheFBI,theCIA,andtheATF.
GingerjoinstheBureau.
There’salotofaffectionintheFBIforGingerandherfather.Shamewhathappenedtoyourpop,realshame…
Gingerworkshardandgetsfast-tracked.Shemakesconnections.Iknewyouroldman.Hewasahellofanagent.Heandme,weusedto—
Gingerburningthemidnightoil.
Gingerslowlyrisingupthechainofcommand.
Sometimesshewondersifshe’sdoingthisforherselfortopleasehergrandfatherormaybetoone-upherfather.IsGinger’slifearesultoforareactiontoherrelationshipwithherdad?
ShetakesclassesattheBehavioralAnalysisUnitinQuantico,wheretheyhaveallsortsofshrinksandinvestigatorswhocanhelpherexplorethesequestionsifshewants.OneofherinstructorsquotestheGermanpoetNovalis:“Inwardgoesthewayfullofmystery.”Shelikesthatandshe’dliketosomedaygoonthatinwardjourneytogetattherootofwhyshe’sthewaysheis,butit’sajourneyshe’llmakebyherself.She’llnevertrustanyshrinkwithherpasthistoryandthethoughtsinherhead.
OlivermovestoCaliforniatowork,firstforAppleandthenforUberandthenforafewriskierstart-upsofwhichhehasapiece.“Whenoneofthesehits,we’llbemillionaires.”
Whenoneofthesehits…he’sworkedfortwocompaniesinarowthathavegonebankrupt.
Thatdoesn’tmatter.
Gingerhascomeupwithanalternativewaytomakemoney.
Seriousmoney.Seriouspower.
GingerhearsabouttheJaliscoboysintheearly2010s.
TheJaliscoboysbroughtnorthfromMexicoanentirelynewmodelofheroindistribution.ThecartelsandthegangsweretooviolentandtooscaryforMiddleAmerica.TheJaliscoboyssawthatandrealizedthattherewasavastuntappedmarketfortheirproductiftheyapproachedthecustomersjustright.
TheygaveoutfreeheroinoutsideVAclinics,methadoneclinics,andpharmaciestobuilduptheirclientele.Clinicians’overprescribingofOxyContinhadcreatedavastuserbaseofopiateandpainkilleraddictswhowereallslippingintopanicmodenowthattheDEAwasfinallybeginningtocrackdownonnarcotics.
Brown-tarheroinfilledthegapnicely.ItworkedbetterthanOxyContinormethadoneanditwasfree,atleastatfirst.Andtheguysgivingitawayweren’tscary.Thedealersdidn’tcarrygunsandtheysmiledalot.
TheJaliscocartelhadamillionuserswithintwoyears.
Theydiversifiedintoothercriminalenterprises.
GingerendsuponaJaliscotaskforce.SheislookingintolinksbetweentheJaliscocartelandtheBostonmob.ThankstoratsandFBIpenetration,thePatriarcacrimefamilyisonthedecline,buttheJaliscocartelisontheupswing.
GingercomesacrossaJaliscohostageschemeinwhichpeoplewhoowemoneyarekidnappeduntiltheirfamiliespaytheirdebts,butthere’sanelementofhumanitytoit:adifferentmemberofthefamilycantaketheplaceofthekidnapvictim.
TheJaliscoboys’hostagemodelworkslargelythroughminimalviolence,butseeingitsunderutilizedpotential,Gingerwondersifitcanbemodifiedforherownends.
Sheremembershoweffectivethechainletterswereinherchildhood.
ShediscussesitwithOlly.
Withthehelpofherprogramming-geniusbrother,TheChainisborninBostonin2013.
Itisn’tanimmediatesuccess.Thereareteethingtroubles.Alittletoomuchblood.
Needingtodistancethemselvesfromthewetwork,theyuseJaliscoandTijuanaenforcerswhoaredesperateformoney.Theydon’tknowwhotheiremployeris.ThemysteriouswomanbehinditallisknownastheMujerRojaortheMuerteRoja.Theysayshe’sthewifeofacarteloverlord.TheysaysheisaYankeefollowerofNuestraSe?oradelaSantaMuerte.
TheJaliscoandTijuanaassassinsaresomewhattrigger-happy.Theydon’treallyunderstandthatoperationsintheUnitedStatesrequirefinesse.There’salittletoomuchkillingintheearlydays.Thewholethingisonthevergeofcollapse.
GingergetsridoftheMexicanassassinsanduseshercontactsinthedyingNewEnglandPatriarcacrimefamilyinstead.TheyunderstandtheAmericanwayofdeath.They’vebeendoingthiskindofthingfordecades.
EventuallyTheChainbeginstorunlikeawell-oiledmachine.
Thingsstarttosettle.
ThePatriarcagoonsaredisposedof,andTheChainbeginstoself-regulate.
Gingersendingouttheletters.
Gingermakingthephonecalls.
Gingercallinginthehits.
Itgrowstobecomeamillion-dollarblackmail,kidnapping,andterrorismschemerunasafamilybusinessbyOliverandGinger.
“Itis,”saysOlly,“thegoddamnUberofkidnappingwiththeclientsdoingmostoftheworkthemselves.”
IftheycouldlaunchitasanIPO,hesays,itcouldbeworthtensofmillions.
Butasitis,they’recomfortableenough.
Theypayofftheircollegeloans.Theygetrich.
TheyopenbankaccountsinSwitzerlandandtheCaymanIslands.
TheChainworksbeautifullynowandit’sfoolproof.
Oliverhasdoneseveralred-teamfailureanalysesofTheChainandheseesonlythreeareasofconcernthatmightconceivablyleadtotrouble.
First,there’sGinger’softenlazytradecraft.He’stoldhertouseanewWickraddress,anewburnerphone,andanewBitcoinaccountateverynewstageofTheChain.Butshedoesn’talwaysdothat.It’sabighassleandusuallyshechangestheaddressesandaccountsonlyaboutonceamonth.He’salsotoldhernevertomakeoneoftheanonymousChainphonecallswhenshe’satworkorwhenshe’satherhouseintheBackBayoratDaniel’shouseontheInnRiver.
Shepromisestoworkonthetradecraft,althoughit’shardtoholddownherjobintheBureau,studyforaPhD,andrunaverysophisticatedcriminalenterpriseallatthesametime.Still,therearemanylayersofencryptionbetweenthemandTheChain.Encryption,Faradaycages,redundancies…
ThesecondmajorareaofconcernisGinger’suseofTheChaintosettlepersonalscores.Threetimes(thatOllyknowsof)she’sdonethis.Ideally,thebusinessandthepersonalshouldnevermix,butwithhumanbeingsthere’salwaysgoingtobesomeblurringofthelines.Andimprovisingasetofrulestodelineatethesystemwasalwaysgoingtoseemcontingentonandprovisionaltothatsystem’sinventor.
Someofthisscore-settlingtiesintothethirdareaofconcern—Ginger’ssexlife.
Ollyrealizesthathe’sabitofanoddduck,relationship-wise.He’sneverhadaseriousgirlfriendorarealromanticinterestofanykind.He’sanintrovertandhedoesn’tlikepartiesorphysicalcontact.Maybethehippiesreallydidmesswithhisbrainchemistryearly?
Ginger,however,isthoroughlyengagedwiththeworld.Theywouldbeaneatexampleinanypsychologicalstudyoftwins.Shehadboyfriendsthroughouthighschoolandcollege,andshehasdatedadozendifferentmensincejoiningtheBureau,twoofwhomweremarried.
Sexisimportant;Ollyappreciatesthatintellectually.SexisthejokerthatkeepsmammalianDNAforeverchangingandonestepaheadofallthevirusesandpathogensthataretryingtowipethespeciesout.Ollyunderstandsthisonascientificandmathematicallevel.Butsexisstillawildcard,andlove—Godforbid—isanevenwildercard.
Powercorruptsandabsolutepowercorruptsabsolutely.Andwhenyoumixpowerwithsex,well,yougetwhatGingerhasoccasionallydonewithTheChain.Severaltimeshe’scaughtherusinginformationfromtheFBIdatabasesforpurposesunrelatedtoChainbusiness.Hesuspectsthereareotherincidentshedoesn’tevenknowabout.
Itisn’tgood.
Hehastogethertoputastoptoit.
Oliversitsinhisgrandfather’sstudywithErikLonnrott’snotebookinhishand.There’safireburninginthegrate.Hecanseesnowflurriesthroughthewindow.
Ollyexaminesthenotebookcarefully.It’smostlyafaircopyofapreviousnotebook.Orevennotebooks.Erikhasbeenworkingonthisforsometime.OllywasawarethatsomeonewaslookingintoTheChainandhehadsuspectedthatErikmightbetheone.Erikhadshakenofftoomanytailsforhimtobeentirelyinnocent,andalotofsearchhistoriesandanalysesledstraightbacktothecomputersatMIT.
Theyhadn’tbeenabletofindErik’slaptoporphone,butthenotebookwasonhisperson.
Eriktookthetroubletowritemostofhistextincipher.Ollyisn’ttoobotheredaboutthat.Thereisnocipherdevisedbymanthatisunbreakable.Additionally,pooroldErikhadgottenquiteexcitedinthelastfewweeksofhislife,andinsteadofcarefullycodingallofhisentries,hehadsimplywrittenthemdowninRussianorHebrew.Asifthatwouldconcealanything.Thepoordeludedfool.
Ollylooksatthesefinalentriesandisnotimpressed.Erikhadn’tgottenveryfarwithhiswork.Hehadnosuspects,hehadn’tmadetheconnectiontotheJaliscoboys,hisreasoningwasallovertheplace.
Someofthelastfewentriesarejustrandomwordsandnames.
Therearehintsaboutanapphewasdesigningbutnoindicationofwhatsaidappwassupposedtodo.
Theverylastentryinthebookwasclearlywrittenveryrecently—perhapsafewdaysago.
Itsayssimply:???
It’sawordthatmeans“ewe”inHebrew.
It’sawordthat’spronounced“Rachel”inEnglish.
Ollysighsandlooksoutthewindow.
Marty,Ginger’snewboyfriend,hasanex-wifenamedRachel,doesn’the?
Thislittlefamilyget-togetherisgoingtobealotmoreinterestingthanheinitiallyexpected.Hepicksuphisphoneandtextshissister:Ginger,canyoudomeafavorandcometalktomewhenyougetachance?
66
RacheltriestocallKyliebutshecan’tgetthrough.
“Nosignal,”shesays.“ThankGodshe’ssafe,though.”
Pete,however,islookingworried.“Shit.Maybenot,”hesays.
“Whatisit?”
“LookatthetimestampontheGPStraceinhersneakers.”
“OhmyGod.She’sbeenattheAdidasstoreinBostonforninehours!”Rachelsays.“Iknowwhathappened.Sheboughtnewshoes,threwtheoldonesout,andforgotabouttheGPS.”
“Howcouldtheyhavetakenherinbroaddaylightfromthemall?Itdoesn’tmakesense,”Petesays.
Rachelispoleaxed.
Herworldhasbeenpulledoutfromunderher.
Again.
Andthistimeit’s100percentherfault.Theyhadwarnedher.Theytoldhertoleavewellenoughalone,andshehadblunderedaheadwiththisidioticplan.
Shefeelssick.
Dizzy.
Nauseous.
Shedry-heaves.
Theoldthoughts:Youstupidcow.Youstupidbitch.Whydidn’tyoujustdiewhenyouhadthechance?Everyonewouldhavebeenbetteroff.
Theyhavetakenherbeautiful,innocent,wonderfulgirl.
Herfault.
Stupid,stupid,stupid,stupid!
Stupidnomore.
Sheunslingshershotgun.She’llgointhebackdoorunderthebalcony.She’llshootthelockoffifshehastoandshe’llkilleveryoneinsideandgetherdaughteroutofthere.
Shebrushessnowflakesoffherfaceandheadsforthehouse.
“Whereareyougoing?”Peteasks.
“TogetKylie.”
“Youdon’tknowwhatorwhoisinthere,”hesays.
“Idon’tcare.Youcanstayhere,I’mgoingin,”Rachelsays.
Petegrabsherarm.“No.We’llbothgo.WaitherefortwominutesandI’llscoutahead.”
“I’mgoingwithyou.”
Peteshakeshishead.“I’mtheexpert,Rachel.IdidtheMarineCorpsreconcourse.I’vedonethiskindofthingmany,manytimes.”
“I’mgoingwithyou.”
“Justholdonherefortwominutes,OK?Letmecheckitoutfirst.”
“Twominutes?”
“Twominutes.I’llsignalyoufromunderthedeck.Waithere.”
Peteknowsheshouldhavedonethiswholethingbyhimselftoday.Whatwashethinking,bringingacancerpatient?
Heslithersacrosstheopengroundtowardthecarportunderthehouse.Therearefivevehiclesparkedhere:awhiteMercedes,aredMustang,twopickuptrucks,andaCorolla.Thatcouldtranslatetoalotofpeople.Hegoeslowpastthecars.Asecuritylightcomesonandhefreezes,butnoonecomesouttoinvestigateandheslowlymovesonagain.Nexttothecarportisadrive-ingarageandnexttothatappearstobethefrontdoorandthelargewindowsofalowerlivingroom.Petecan’triskgoingpastthose,sohegoesbackthewayhecame.Hetriesthedoornexttothegarage.Locked.Thegaragedooritself,however,isnotclosedproperly.There’sabouthalfaninchofclearancebetweenthebottomofthedoorandtheground.Heliesdownonhisbellyandslideshisfingersunderneath.Ifit’sjustabuckleinthealuminum,itwouldn’tdothemanygood,butifit’sadamagedtorsionspring…
Heputstwohandsunderthedoorandtriestolift,andthedoorgraduallybeginstorise.
Thisishowthey’llgetin,MarineCorpsurbanwarfare–style.Yougainentry,youcleartheroom,youmovetothenextroom,youworklevelafterleveluntilthehouseissecured.Unknownnumberofunfriendlies,butheandRachelhavesurpriseontheirside.Hegetstohisfeetandstaggersalittle.
Ohno.
Hefeelsdizzy.
Hisskin’sonfire.
It’sthehunger.
He’sscrewedhimselfthismorning.Can’tsuddenlystartmessingaroundwithyourfix,youknowbetterthanthat,Pete.
Soontherewillbeamillionantscrawlinguphislegsandarms,intohismouth,downhisthroat…
Stopit!hetellshimself.Stopitnow!
Hubristoplaytheherocard.Rachelwouldbethebetterscoutinthesecircumstances.Gottagetback,hethinks,andheturnsandrunsstraightintoamanholdingashotgun.
“Yeah,IthoughtIheardsomething,”themansays.
Petethinksaboutamove,butinsteadofthinkingaboutamoveheshouldhaveactuallymoved.Flashlightintotheman’sskull.Bootintohisknee.Gunbutttoface.Oneguardtakenout.Buthe’sdonenothing.Tooslow.Tooslownotbecausehe’stoooldorbecausehedoesn’thavethemusclememory;tooslowbecausehehasdamagedhimselfwithheroinandoxycodoneandeveryotheropiatehehasbeenabletogethishandson.
AndnowPetehasRachel’sexactthought:Stupid,stupid,stupid,stupid.Stupidandweak.ThemantakesastepbackandpointstheshotgunatPete’sface.
“Droptheflashlightandthegun,”themansays.
Petedropstheflashlightandthenine-millimeter.
“Now,withtwofingers,takethatforty-fiveoutofyourbeltanddropitonthegroundtoo.”
Petetakesouthisprecious.45ACPandletsitfallintothegatheringsnowflakesathisfeet.Nowhefeelsnaked.TheACPhadbelongedtohisgrandfatherintheU.S.Navy.Theoldmanhadfireditinangeronce—atakamikazeramminghisshipattheBattleofOkinawa.IthadbeenPete’sgood-luckcharminIraqandAfghanistan.
“Shit,”Petesays.
“Yeah,pal,you’reintheshit.Danieldon’ttoleratenobodyonhisproperty.Andby‘don’ttolerate,’Idon’tmeanhe’sgonnaturnyouovertothelocalcops.Putyourhandsonyourhead.”
Peteputshishandsonhishead.“Thisisallamisunderstanding.Igotlost,”hebegins,butthemanshusheshim.
“We’llseewhatDanielhastosayaboutthat.He’sgothisgrandkidswithhimtoday.Idon’tbelievehe’llberightpleased.Kneelontheground,andkeepyourhandsbehindyourhead.”
TheguardkickshiminthebackandPetegoesdown.
Dirt.Gravel.Snow.
Pete’smindisracing.He’stryingtothink.Nothingcomes.
“Now,youjustlaydownthere,boy,youjustlaytherewhileIringthedoorbellandbringeverybodyrunning.”
67
Gingerwalksintothebigremodeledmasterbedroomfeelingprettypleasedwithherself.TheChainhasneutralizedtheErikLonnrottthreat,andhernewboyfriendisgettingalonglikeahouseonfirewithDaniel.TheyarebothbigRedSoxfansandMartycanthrowoutnameslikeTedWilliams,CarlYastrzemski,andRogerClemensandknowwhatheistalkingabout.DanieltoldMartyhecouldcallhimRedifhewanted.Ararehonor.
Abigdecision,bringinghimhere.It’snoteverypartnershebringstomeethergrandfatherandherbrother.ButMartyO’Neillisspecial.He’sfunny.He’ssmart—HarvardCollegeandHarvardLaw;Imean,comeon.He’sverygood-lookingifyoulikedark-haired,green-eyed,andIrish.Andshedoes.
It’struethathehasadaughter,athirteen-year-olddaughter,aslightlyannoyingthirteen-year-olddaughter,butherrecenttribulationshaveobviouslytakenthewindoutofhersails,andthethirteen-year-oldisveryappreciativeofbothMartyandhisnewyounggirlfriendwhohasanawesomejobandwhotapsintothecoolesthipsterfrequencies
OliverwouldnodoubtbefuriousifhefoundoutthatshehadmetMartybystalkinghimthroughTheChain,butMartywasn’texactlyavictimoranything.Hisex-wifehadkepthimoutofit.Andshe’djustchanceduponhisFacebookpagesortofaccidentallywhileresearchingher.
Sortof.
True,shehadTheChaingetMarty’spreviousgirlfriend,Tammy,outofthepicture,butthat’sasfarasitwent.
Thistime.
IfOllyknewhowmanytimesshehasusedinsideknowledgefromTheChainforherownlittleadventures,hewouldnodoubthaveafit,butwhat’sthepointofhavingallthispowerandignoringit?It’sfinetodipyourtoeinfromtimetotime.Itwouldbeperversenotto.
TheChainisherinvention,afterall.Herthing.AllOlly’stalkofIPOsandinternetmillionsisjusttalk.TheChaingotOllyhishouseinSanFrancisco,herhouseinBoston,andtheapartmentonFifthAvenue.TheChain.Heridea.
SoifshewantstoplaywithMartyO’Neill,shecan.Martyishandsome,witty,andfun.Ollyneednotworry.She’sincontrol.She’sthespider.Theannoyingfly,ofcourse,istheex-wife.ThenerveofheronWickrtoday.PeopleneverWickr’doncetheywereoffTheChain.Theynormallyweresograteful.Gratefulandscared.Maybeitwouldbebettertohavetheex-wifedisappeared.Allitwouldtakewasonelittlephonecallormessage:We’veaddedanewconditionforyourchild’ssafereturn.AwomannamedRachelKleinO’NeillwholivesonPlumIsland,Massachusetts—getridofherbytheendoftheweek.Thebodymustneverbefound.
Rachelcanberemovedfromthepictureatanytime.
“Thechildrenseemhappy.IjustsawKylieonthedeck,”Martysays,comingupbehindherandkissingheronthebackoftheneck.
GingerturnstofacehimandMartyputhisarmsaroundher.“ThisissogoodforKyles.I’mnottheworld’sbestjudgeofteenagers,butsheseemstohavebeengoingthroughareallyhardtimeinthepastfewweeks.”
“Yeah,IdidgiveRachelthenameofoneofourtherapists.”
“Well,Rachel’sbeenoutofittoo,asyoucanimagine,”Martysays.
Ginger’sphonepingstoletherknowthatshehasamessage.
“What’sup?”Martyasksasshereadsthemessagefromherbrother.
“Oh,it’sonlyOlly.Somethingaboutdinner,I’llbet.NodoubtGrandpaisgoingtotrytoburnthehousedownwithhisbarbecueagain.Holdthatthought,I’llberightback.”
Gingerwalksalongthesecond-floorlandingtohergrandfather’sstudy,goesinside,closesthedoor,andsitsdown.Ollyhasthatlookofsuperiorityheassumessometimes,alookthatwouldtrythepatienceofasaint.
“Yes?”shesays.“Whatisit?”
“You’vebeenusingTheChainforyourownendsagain,haven’tyou?”
“No.”
“Yes,youhave.”
“It’sallforourownends.”
“YouknowwhatImean.You’vebeenmeddling.LikeyoudidwithNoahLippman.”
“No.”
“OrthatgirlcrushyouhadonLaurawhat’s-her-nameafewyearsago.PoorLauramadethemistakeofherlifebyrebuffingyou,andthenshevanishedwithoutatracethreemonthslater.YouwaitedawholethreemonthsbeforeunleashingTheChainonher.Verytactful.”
“Noah’sstillalive.”
“Justabout.Wedon’tuseTheChainforourownpersonalvendettas,Ginger—we’vediscussedthis.”
“Ididn’t.”
“Ortomeethandsomeyoungmen.”
Gingergroans.He’sontoher.“Doyouknowhowdifficultitistomeetpeopleinthiscity?”sheprotests.
“Notdifficultatall.Thereareamilliondatingapps.”
“I’msupposedtoignoreanymanwhomighthavecomeincontact,evenperipherally,withTheChain?”
“Yes!Youknowtheprotocols.”
“Whosetuptheprotocols?WhoinventedTheChain?”
“It’sasecurityissue,sweetie.”
“It’sallmyhandiwork.Itwasn’tyou.Itwasme.IcandowhatIlikewithit.”
Ollycloseshiseyesandsighs.Allgoodthingshavetocometoanendeventually,hesupposes.Heissurprisedthatithaslastedthislong,actually.ThemodelsallsaidthatTheChainwouldprobablylastonlyaboutthreeyearsbeforeitcollapsed.Youcouldintimidatesomanyfolksforonlysolong.Thenumberofpeopleinvolvedgrowsalmostexponentially,andnoconspiracycansurviveexponentialgrowth.It’satypicalstochasticfast-slowsystemandwhenthebreakingpointcomes,itwillbreakspectacularly.
Ollystrokesthelittlegoateehehasbeencultivatingwithoutmuchsuccessforthepastfewmonths.“WeshouldhaveretiredTheChainyearsago,”hemutters.“Imean,whykeepitgoingwhenwehaveenoughmoney?”
“Whystopit?You’rejustjealousbecauseitwasmycreation.”
“Wasn’tthepurposeofTheChaintosetusupforlife?It’sdonethat.”
“Wasthatitspurpose?”sheaskswithasneer.
Hefrownsandshakeshishead.
“Youjustdon’tgetit,doyou?”Gingersays.NotforOllytheperegrine-hovering-over-the-hay-fieldthing.Ollyisn’tatruepredatorlikeher.Atruepredatorsometimeskillsevenwhenitisn’thungry.“Wasn’titusagainsttheworld?Remember?”shesays.
Olly’sfrowndeepens.
“Allright,what’sgonewrong?”Gingerasks.
“Ithastodowiththatnotebook,”Ollysays.
“You’vedecodedit,haven’tyou?”
“No,notyet.”
“Thenwhat?”
“Neartheend,crazyErikdidn’twriteeverythingincode.”
“And?”
“Whatdidyousayyournewboyfriend’sex-wife’snamewas?”
“Oh,shit.”
“Sometimeinthelastweekorso,ErikapparentlymetwithawomannamedRachel.”
“Shit,shit,shit.”
“Comeon,spill.”
Nowit’sGinger’sturntosigh.“Youknowwhatyourproblemis,Olly?You’recompletelybloodless.You’relikeSpockorsomething.Youshouldprobablyseesomeoneaboutthat.It’snotnormal.”
“Thisisserious,Ginger.Thisiscrash-bag,fake-IDs,flee-the-countrystuff.”
“HowmuchdowehaveinSwitzerland?”
“Enough.”Ollygoestotheguncabinet,unlocksit,andopensit.“Ialwaysthoughtthatifweweregoingtogodown,itwouldbebecauseofyoutanglingemotionswithbusiness.”
Shesmiles.“Christ,Olly,that’showeverybodygoesdownintheend.Didn’tyouknowthat?Youcan’tfightbiology.”
“Youcantry,”hesays.
68
Backinthemasterbedroom,Martyislookingthroughtheplate-glasswindowattheoak-treestumpbetweenthehouseandtheswampy,scrubbywoodsbeyond.Snowisfallinginbigpowderyflakesontheriverandthelivingtreesandthedeadoak.It’safrickin’RobertFrostpoem.
Lovelydownhere.Gingerundersoldit.Thisisnocrazyoldcabininthemiddleofaswamp.Thisissomespread.Abeautifulhouse.Artonthewalls.Expensiveshit.Theoldman,Daniel,musthaveachunkofchange.Andasadvertised,he’sacharacter.
ThekidsarelovingitandGingerislovingshowingitoff.She’sagoodone,hethinks.Rachelwasamistake.Theywerebothsoyoung.He’dtoldeverybodythathe’dfalleninlovewithRachelreadingherbrilliantbookreviewsintheCrimson,butthatwascrap.Itwasaphysicalthing.Theyreallydidn’thavemuchincommon.
Whenyougotpastthirty,youhadbetterjudgment.Tammywasmerelyafling,butGinger’sdifferent.Special.Withherhecouldsettledown.Liveinthecity.Haveacouplemore—
“Iwasjustthinkingaboutyou,”hesaysasGingercomesbackintotheroomholdingherhandbag.
Astrandofredhairiscurlingdownbetweenherbreasts.
Hehasasuddenurgetothrowheronthebedandravishher.
“Ginger,dothesedoorslock?Iknowthere’skidswanderingaround,soI—”hebegins,butsomethinginhisperipheralvisioncatcheshiseye.
Heturnstolookatit.
“Whatisthat?”hesaystoGinger.
“What?”
“Isthatsomeonecomingtowardthehousefrombehindthattree?”
“Where?”
“IthoughtIsawsomeonecomingthroughthesnow.Yeah,look…ohmyGod!You’renotgoingtobelievethis,but,um,Ithinkthat’smyex-wife,”Martysays.
GingertakestheSmithandWesson.38outofherhandbagandpointsitathishead.
“Ibelieveyou,”shesays.
69
Rachelputstheshotgunagainsthershoulderandaimsitattheguard.
“Holditrightthere,”shesays.
Theguardspinstofaceher.“Whoa!Takeiteasy,lady.Idon’tthinkyouknowwhatyou’redoingwiththatthing,”hesays.
“You’llbethinkingsomethingelsewhenIblowyouinhalfwithit,”Rachelreplies.
Petepicksuphis.45.“Droptheshotgun,pal,”Petesays.
Theguardplacesthegunonthegroundandputshishandsup.
“Liefacedownontheground,”PeteordersandthemancompliesasPetekicksthegunaway.
“Youdon’thavetohurtme.There’sducttapeandropeinthegarage.Igotthegarage-dooropenerinmyjacketpocket,”theguardsaysquickly.
“Howmanyarmedmeninsidethehouse?”Peteasks.
“I’mtheonly—”themanbegins.
“Nobodymove!”someonesays,andthere’sthesoundofagunshot.
Aspotlightcomeson.StandingatthefrontdoorareGingerandamanaboutherage—hertwinbrother,Rachelassumes.Bothofthemhavehandguns.
“Rachel,isthatyou?What’sgoingon?”Gingerasksinnocently.
Ginger?Whatthehell?DoubtcoursesthroughRachel.DidErik’strackersomehowcrosssignalswiththeGPStrackertheyputinKylie’sshoes?DidKylietransfertheGPStilesafterall?Wasthiswholeridiculoushuntthroughtheswampanenormousmistake?
OhmyGod,yes.Ifit’samistake,Kylieissafe.Yes!Rachelhastoexplainbeforesomeonegetshurt.
“I’msosorry,Ginger.Thismustlookcompletelycrazy.Iwasjusttellingthisgentlemanhere—”
Thegaragedooropenstorevealaskinnyoldgeezerwithwhitehairholdingwhatlookslikeanassaultrifle.“Whatareyoudoinghereonmyproperty?”theoldmandemands.
“Grandpa,we’vegotthis!”Ginger’sbrothersays.
“Olly’sright,Red,we’vegotitundercontrol,”Gingersays.“Rachel,youandyourfriendshouldreallydropyourweapons.”
“Everyone,please,Ithinkwe’vemadeahugemistake.I’msorry.IputaGPStrackerinKylie’ssneakers.Ithoughtshe’dbeenkidnapped.”
“Dropyourgun,please,Rachel.Whyonearthwouldyouthinkshe’dbeenkidnapped?”Gingerasks.
“It’scomplicated,”Rachelreplies.
Gingerisunderthefloodlightabovethedoor,andRachelcanseeherface.
Sheseesherclearlyforthefirsttime.
Thatcopperhair.Thoseblueeyes.Thosebeautifulblueeyes.Acoldblue.Achillybottom-of-the-abyssblue.Blueeyesthatarewatchingthiswholescenewithcooldisdain.
Gingerseemstobeenjoyingit,even.
AndthenGinger’seyesmeetRachel’sandthetwowomenlookateachotherforwhatseemslikeanagebutisperhapslittlemorethanasecond.
Thatsecondisenough.
Theyrecognizeeachother.
You.
You.
RachelknowsandGingerknows,andGingerknowsthatRachelknows.
Erik’sapphasn’tmadeamistake.
TheChainleadshereandGingerisnotgoingtoletanyofthemleavethisplacealive.Theyhaveuncoveredthesecret,andtoprotectitGingerisgoingtohavetokillallofthem.Rachel,Pete,Marty,Stu,andKylie.
RachelhadbeenabouttotellPetethattheyshoulddroptheirweaponsandputtheirhandsup.Butiftheydothat,Gingerwillmurderthemonthespot.
RachelturnstoPete.Shelooksupatthefloodlightabovetheporch.Petefollowshergaze.
“She’sTheChainandshe’sgoingtokillus,”Rachelsays.
Petenods.
Thetwinsarebehindalowwall.Hittingthemwillbedifficult,soinstead,heraisesthe.45andshootsoutthelight.
70
Immediatedarknessandconfusion.YellingandanarcofyellowflamefromthegarageasDanielopensupwiththeautomaticweapon.
“Hitthedeck!”Peteshouts.
Rachelthrowsherselftotheground.
TracerroundsflyfromthebarrelofthegunandhurlthemselvesintothespacewhereRachelhadbeenseven-tenthsofasecondago.Theroundsmissandcontinuetospinontheirlongaxes,travelingthousandsofyardsacrossthenight.
Thenallthegunsopenupatonce.A.38,anine-millimeter,andthatbigassaultrifleagain.FirefromseveralanglestriangulatestwoyardsaboveRachel’shead.
Sheburiesherfaceinthesnowandscreams.
Noneofthismatters.Theguns,thegunfire,thesickly-sweetsmellofgunpowder.WhatmattersisKylie.She’sinthehousesomewhereandRachelisgoingtogether.Peteisdoingaten-countinhishead.Tensecondsonautomaticwillburnthroughthemagazineontheassaultrifleinthegarage.
Aftertenseconds,helooksup.Theshootersontheporchhaveslippedbackinside.Theoldmanhasgonethroughhismagandisreloading.
Peteshootsthreeroundsintothegaragetogivethemansomethingtothinkaboutandthenscramblestoanewfiringposition.Shootandmove.Shootandmove.That’swhatkeptyoualiveinalimited-coverfirefight,andthebigACProundswouldtakeyoudownwithashouldershotatthisrange.Mighteventakeyouout.
Herollsintothesnowtohisright,crawlsbehindabush,andshootsagain.Hiswholebodyisachingwithneedforthefix,buthe’llfightitandthem.“Rachel?AreyouOK?”Petesays.
Noanswer.
Hehastothinkofaplan.Anyplan.Ininfantrytraining,theytellyouthatasloppyplanexecutedimmediatelyisbetterthanagreatplanexecutedanhourlater.They’rerightaboutthat.Outherehe’sgoingtodie.Hehastogoin.
Maybefifteensecondshavepassedsincetheshootingbegan.
Heregoes,hethinks.
“Notsofast,smartguy,”someonesays,grabbingathim.Heducksafistcomingathisfaceandblocksaknifecomingathisribcage.
It’stheguardwho’doriginallyfoundhim.He’dforgottenallaboutthatasshole.Themanhasgrabbedhisgunhandandistryingtokillhimwithalargehuntingknife.Theknifeslashesathisface;Peteflinches,andtheknifenickshisleftcheek.Petekickshardintothedarknessandconnectswithsofttissue.Hefreeshisgunhandandshootsonce.
There’sahollow,sickeningthumpandthensilence.
“Pete?”avoicesaysnexttohim.
“Rachel?”
“I’mgoingintothehouse,”shewhispers.“Throughthegarage,it’stheonlyway.”
“What’stheplan?”
“Wegoinsidethehouse,rescuethekids,andkilleverybodywhoisn’tKylie,Marty,orStuart,”Rachelsays.
“Soundsgoodtome.”
71
Theyenterthegarage.Theshooterisgonebutboxesholdingsomethingflammablehavecaughtfireandareburningfuriouslynexttoadozencansofpaint.Theycan’tstayhere.
“There’sadoorthatleadstothemainhouse,”Rachelsays.
She’supforthis.It’sthemomentshe’sbeensubconsciouslytrainingforallherlife.Theradiation,thechemo,thoseharddaysinGuatemala,thoselongshiftswaitressingatthediner,themidnightUberrunstoLogan.Allofitwaspreparationforthis.She’sready.It’sallforfamily,isn’tit?Everythingisforfamily.Evenanimbecileknowsyoudon’tgetbetweenagrizzly-bearmamaandhercub.
Petefishesoneofthetwoflash-banggrenadesfromhiscoatpocket.“I’mgoingtoopenthedoorandthrowinaflash-bang.Closeyoureyesandcoveryourears,”PetewhisperstoRachel,thentossesthestickasheopensthedoor.Asecondlater,theflash-banggoesoffwithadeafeningroarandawhitejudderinglight.It’sanessentiallyharmlessweaponmeanttostunatclosequarters.Itwon’thurtthekids,butit’llscaretheshitoutofpeoplewhodon’tknowit’scoming.
“Waithere,”Petesaysandgoesthroughthedoor.
Adozensmokealarmsbeginringing.It’sanoldhousebutit’sbeenremodeled,andinoneofthoseremodelingsasprinklersystemhasbeeninstalledtoprotecttheartworkthegrandchildrenhavebeencollecting.Rachelhasneverbeeninahomethathasitsownsprinklersystemandshe’sshockedwhencoldwaterstartspouringdownonher.Shehasnoideawhat’shappening.
Petepopshisheadaroundthedoorway.“Noonetherenow.Weshouldgo.Thosepainttinsaregoingtostartexplodinginaminute.”
“Whichway?”Rachelasks,coughing.
Petehasnoidea.“Roombyroom.Staybehindme.Checkmyblindspots,”hesays.
Peteforgesaheadbuthewondersifhecanlastmuchlonger.He’shavingtroublebreathing.Adrenalineisputtingoffthecollapse,butthatwon’tworkforever.Hanginthere,Pete,hetellshimself,untilyougetKyliesafe.
Thehousehasbeenhaphazardlyextendedsothatnowit’samazeofroomsandcorridorsandalcoves.
Ahallway.
Aroom.
AbigTV,asofa,huntingtrophies.
Anotherdoor.
Diningtable,chairs,artwork.
Adistantscream.
“Kylie!”Rachelyells.
Noanswer.
Backtothehallway.
Petekicksopenanotherdoorandswingshisweaponintothecornersofakitchen.“Kylie!Stuart!”hesays.
Nothing.
Thehouselightsflickerassmokefromthegaragefirefillstheentiregroundfloor.Waterisstilldrippingfromthesprinklersandpoolingattheirfeet.Thesmellispungent,sour,Neolithic.
Inadownstairsbedroom,RachelspiesKylie’scoatbutnoKylie.
Thelightsfailandcomebackonagain,adim,yellowgoblinglow.
Thebedroomconnectstoanotherroom.
Peteeasesthedooropenandlooksinside.
Empty,buttheycanhearfootstepsoutsideinthehallway.Rachelpointstothedoorandputsherfingeroverherlips.Petetakeshisremainingflash-bangfromhispocket,violentlytugsopenthebedroomdoor,andthrowsthegrenadeintothecorridor.
Anotherloudexplosionandaburstofwhitelightfollowedbymachine-gunfire.Petewaitsuntiltheshootingstopsandtheninoneclean,fastmovementhegoesoutwithRachel,swingingrightasRachelswingsleft.
There,infrontofher,attheendofthehallway,amanisreloadinganassaultrifle.Theoldmanagain.Notoneofthetwins.Hishairiswhite;hisstanceisremote,tough,confident.He’stheonethatOllycallsGrandpaandGingercallsRed.
Rachelraiseshershotgun.
Sherememberswhatshewastoldattherange:waituntilyourtargetiscloseoryourtargetflees.Butthismanisnotrunningtowardherorrunningawayfromher.He’sjuststandingthereattheendofthelongcorridor.
Hefinishesreloading.HelooksatRachelandraisesalongblackgun.
Rachelpullsthetrigger.
Heraimisoff.
Thewalltoherrighteruptsinfire.Thekicktakesherintheshoulder.Themanyells,dropshisgun,andstaggersintoaroomnexttohim.Peteturns,checksthatRachel’sOK,andgoesdownthehallwayaftertheman,buthe’sgone.
PetepicksupadroppedMP5.Aperfectweaponforclosework.Heclearsthemechanismandshouldersit.
“IthinkI’moutofammunition,”Rachelsays.Petehandsherthenine-millimeterandshesetsdowntheshotgun,whichhasserveditsChekhovianpurpose.
Thehouse’slightsfinallygooffandstayoff.
Thedarknessisnearlycomplete.
Darkness.Smoke.Poolsofdankwater.
WhatcantheydobutforgeonbyiPhonelight?
Theycomeuponabigopen-planlivingroom.Dozensofhuntingtrophiesonthewalls,andnotjustlocalanimals—antelope,cheetahs,lions,aleopard.Predatorsandpreytogether.
Feariscoursingthroughher,butfearisaliberationtoo.Fearreleasespowerandistheprecursortoaction.
Peteisdrenchedwithsweat.“AreyouOK?”sheasks.
“Fine,”hereplies.HefeelstheoppositeoffinebuttheMP5iscomfortingagainsthisshoulder,there’snineleftinthemagazine,andhestillhashistrusty.45.Allgood.
“Mommy!”adistantvoicecallsfromsomewhereoutside.
Theyslideopenasetofglassdoorsandfindthemselvesinthesnow.It’sblowinghardfromthenorthandswirlingabouttheminanicywind.
“Overthere,Ithink,”Rachelsays,pointingtoaseriesofdisusedfarmbuildings.Therearefootprintsinthesnowheadingtowardthecloseststructure.
Theyfollowtheprintstowardtheentrancetoanoldabattoir.Thishadpresumablybeenaworkingslaughterhouseoncebutnowtherearegapingholesinthewallsandroof,andivycoverseverything.
Theykillthephonelightsandgoinside.
They’reimmediatelyhitbythestenchofblood,putrefaction,androt.
Brokenglasslittersthefloorandcrunchesundertheirfeet.
It’shardtosee;theonlyilluminationcomesfromtheflickeringlightsofthehouseeruptinginflamesbehindthem.
Windhowlsthroughtheruinedwallsandtheroof.
Racheljumpsasshealmostcollideswithasowhangingfromaceilingbeam.Thepig’slifelessdeadeyesarelevelwithherown.
Adjustingtothedark,sheseesotheranimalsonhooks—pheasants,crows,abadger,adeer.
Theabattoirisontwolevelswithasmallsetofstepsbetweenthem.
“Theymustbeontheupperlevel,”Petewhispers.“Stairsareaclassicplaceforanambush.Watchout.”
Rachelnodsandtriesnottomakesomuchnoisewithherboots.
Theymoveforwardslowly.
Brokenglass,wetsnow,staleair.Rust,driedblood,death.
Theygetonlyhalfwayuptheconcretestepsbeforesomeonestartsshooting.
“Handgun,threeo’clock!”PetescreamsandreturnsfirewiththeMP5asherunstothetopofthesteps.Heshootsthreemoretimesashistargetducksbehindapieceofmachineryandvanishes.
Hesmilesgrimlytohimself.Thebastardshavewastedtheirchance.
Helooksathisclip.TheMP5isemptynow.Hedropsitandpullsouthistrusty.45.
“Didyouhitsomeone?”Rachelwhispers.
“No.”
“Becarefulofthekids,”Rachelsays,followinghimupthesteps.
Herhandsareshakingandsheforcesherselftogripthepistoltighter.Shecan’tloseitnow,notwhentheyareso—
Anoverheadarclightcomeson.
Rachelspinsthenine-millimeterina360aroundher.Theabattoirisafilthyconcreteruinwithbitsofoldfarmmachineryandgarbageeverywhere.Nearher,twomorepigsarehangingfromhooksintheceiling.Oneofthemhasbeenfreshlyslaughteredandisdrippingbloodintoabucket.
Butnoneofthatisrelevant.
What’srelevantiswhatsheseesthirtyfeetawayattheendoftheupperleveloftheabattoir:Gingerisstandingtherewithhertwinbrother,Olly,bothholdingpistolsaimedatKylieandStuart.
KylieandStuartarecryingandterrified;theirwristsarehandcuffedinfrontofthem.Martyissprawlednearthemonthefloor,apparentlyonlysemiconscious.Hisheadisbleedingandhe’sbreathinghardandmoaninginagony.GingerisholdingKyliebythecollarofherT-shirtandpointingthegunstraightdownontoherskull.OllyhashisarmaroundStuart’sneckandthebarrelofhisweaponisshovedintoStuart’sear.
PeteandRachelbothfreeze.
“Mom!”Kyliecries.
“Lethergo!”RachelscreamsatGinger.
“Thatdoesn’tseemlikely,now,doesit?”Gingersays.
Rachelaimsthenine-millimeteratGinger’sface.“I’llkillyourighthere,”shesays.
“You’rethatconfidentabouthittingmefromthisdistance?Howmanytimeshaveyouevenfiredapistol,Rachel?”Gingerasks.
“Iwon’tmissyou,youbitch.”
“DropyourgunorIdropthekids.”
“We’renotdroppingourguns,”Petesays.“That’snothowthisisgoingtowork.You’regoingtoletthechildrengoandwe’llleave,andyou’llhaveplentyoftimetogetyourcrashbagsandyourdummypassportsandeverybodywins.”
Heswaysalittlebeforecatchinghimselfandgettinghisbalance.
“Whoa,steadythere,sailorboy.Whydon’tyousitdownandtakealoadoff?”Gingersays,lookingsignificantlyatOlly.
“Youshouldlistentome,”Petemutters,inchinghiswaycloser.Theyareaconfidentpair.Overconfident.Anotherfewfeetandhe’llhaveaclearshotatOlly.Stuartcomesonlyhalfwayuphischest,soifheaimsatthetopofOlly’sskull,thebigpowerful.45roundwillkillOllyinstantly.Hastobesoon.Theadrenalineinhissystemhasdefinitelyplateauedandhe’sonthedownslopenow
“Clickingthehammerbackissuchacliché,”Gingersays.“Doyoureallyneedmetodothat?Areyousodensethatyouneedavisualaid?Iwillkillthislittlegirlifyoudon’tdropyourgoddamngun.”
“Thenyou’lldie,”Petesays.He’sabouttwentyfeetfromthemnow.Afastshotmightjustdothetrick.
“Putthegundownnow,asshole!”Ollybarkswithacool,imperiousair.
PetetakesaimatthetopofOlly’sskull.Heshouldact.Heshouldactnow.Buteverythinghurts.Everythingaches.Hishandisshaking.
“Youneedtodropthegunnowor—”Ollybegins.
There’saloudbang,andabulletfromGinger’s.38hitsPeteinthetorsoandhe’sdown.
Racheldivesbehindaconcreteblood-collectingtroughasanotherbulletmissesherbyinches.
“Youshothim,”OllysaystoGinger.
“Thetheatricsweregettingonmynerves,”Gingerreplies.“Now,Rachel,it’syourturn.DropthegunandputyourhandsuporwekillKylie.Olly,keepyourarmaroundthatone’sneckbutputyourguninlittleKylie’scheek.”
OllysticksthebarrelofhispistolinKylie’srightcheek.
“Mommy!”Kyliewails.
Rachel’sstomachlurches.Hereyesarestreaming.Peteisshot;Martyisdown.Andshe’ssoexhausted.Weeksofthis.Yearsofthis.Everythinghasgonewrongsincethatveryfirstoncologist’sreportfromMass.General.
She’sdoomedandpartofherwantstoliedownonthefilthyfloor,closehereyes,andsleep.
ButshecanseeKylie’sface,andKylieisherworld.Shecrouchesbehindthebloodtroughandpointsthenine-millimeteroveritslipatGinger.
“Dropyourgunandputyourhandsup!”Gingerscreamsasthesnowwhirlsaroundher.
“No!Youdropyourgun,”Rachelreplies,tearsrunningdownhercheeks.
“Putyourhandsupandwe’llletyougo.Youandthekids.Likeyourfriendsaid.Weknowthegame’sover,”Ollysays.“Gingerherehasscreweditupforus.Notforthefirsttime.We’llletyougoandyou’llletusgo.Wecanmakeadeal.Giveustwenty-fourhoursandwe’llbeinSouthAmerica.”
Rachel’sheartleaps.Here’sanewpossibility.Aslimlifelineofhope.
“Promiseit!Promisemeyou’llletuswalkoutofhere,”Rachelsays.“If—ifyou’refleeingthecountry,there’snoneedforanymorekilling.”
“Putyourhandsup,dropyourgun,andIgiveyoumywordthatyouandthekidswillbeunharmed,”Ollysays.
“You’llletmetakethechildrenandgo?”Rachelasks.
Onceshegetsthechildrentosafety,shecancallthepoliceandcomebackforMartyandPete.
Ollynods.“I’mnotamonster.Youcanleavewithyourfamily.Andinreturn,yougiveusadaybeforeyoucallthecops.Allyouhavetodoisdropyourgunandputyourhandsup.Comeon,Mrs.O’Neill,let’sworktogetheronthis,foralloursakes!”
Hermindisinoverload.Acollageofcompetingimagesandinstincts.Don’ttrustthem,getthekids,don’ttrustthem,getthekids…
Shehastochoose,soshedecidestobelievehim.
Getthechildrenbackfirst,worryabouthisintentionslater,shetellsherself.
Shestands,putsherhandsup,andletsthenine-millimeterfalltothefloor.
“Comeoutfrombehindthattrough,putyourhandsonyourhead,andgetdownonyourknees,”Gingersays.
Racheldoesasshe’sorderedandGingerpushesKylietowardher.Kyliefallsintohermother’sarmsandRachelhugsher.
“ThistimeI’mneverlettingyougo,”Rachelwhispers.
OllyshovesStuarttowardthelittlepietà.Heturnstohissister.“That,Ginger,ishowyoudothesethings.Thatishowit’ssupposedtowork.Notwiththis,”hesays,wavingthegunather.“Withthis,”hesays,touchingthesideofhisownhead.“YouseewhatIdidthere?AllIdidwastalktoher.Noguns,noviolence—aself-correctingmechanism.Allyouneedisaphoneandavoice.Andalittlebitofbrains.”
“Soyou’rereallygoingtoletthemgo?”Gingerasks.
“Ofcoursenot!Howcanwepossiblyletthemgo?JesusChrist,Ginger,Iworryaboutyou.”
“We’regoingtokillthem?”
“Yes!”Ollysayswithexasperation.
“Mightaswelldoitnow,”Gingersays.“Itfeelslikewe’vebeenherehalfthenightplayingreindeergamesinthesnow.Bettercloseyoureyes,folks.Foryouthewarisover.”
72
AsearlyChristmaspresentsgo,theUltimateHoudiniMagicKitcouldn’tbemoregeeky,andKylieisattheagewhereherfriendswillteaseheraboutsuchthings.Magic?Imean,seriously,whodoesmagic?
Soshedidn’ttellanyofthem.ExceptStuart,ofcourse.ShetoldStuart.
Andshelearnedafewtricks.Asshepromisedherselfinthatbasementwhenshe’dbeenchainedtotheoven,shedid,infact,learnhowtoescapefromhandcuffs.ShewatchedthoseYouTubevideosandshepracticed.Alot.Shegotgoodatit.Asgoodasonecangetinafewweeks.Shecanescapefromastandardhandcuffinunderthirtyseconds.Now,ziptiesareadifferentstory,butallmetalhandcuffscanbeopenedwithauniversalkeyifyouknowwhatyouaredoing.Asagood-lucktotem,shealwayscarriesahandcuffescapekeywithheronherkeychain.
Always.
Unseenbyanyone,sheunpicksthelockthatiscuffingherhandsinfrontofher
Nowwhat?Snowispouringinthroughtheholesintheroof.Hermotherisholdingher,Stuartiscrying,andthereonthefloorrightinfrontofheristhepistolthathermomdropped.
Shereachesdownandpicksupthegun.Itfeelsheavy.Impossiblyheavy.Thetwinsaretalking.“Mightaswelldoitnow,”Gingersays.“Itfeelslikewe’vebeenherehalfthenightplayingreindeergamesinthesnow.Bettercloseyoureyes,folks.Foryouthewarisover.”
Kylieliftsthenine-millimeter,aims,andpullsthetrigger.
73
Olly’sfacecavesinward,rushesoutthebackofhisskull,andspraysoverthecinder-blockwallbehindhim.Kyliehasneverseenanythinglikeit.It’sbeyondhorrific.Butshehasonlyafractionofasecondtobehorrified.Gingerswingshergunaroundandpointsitather.
“Youlittlebitch!”GingerscreamsandshootsblindlyatKylie.
Kyliefiresagain,butthistimeshe’smileshighandthebulletclangsintotheceiling.
ArustedpieceoftheroofthudstothefloorbetweenGingerandthebodyofherbrother.Startled,sheturnstoseewhatitis.KyliehustleshermomandStuartbehindtheconcreteblood-collectingtrough.
Gingerrecoversherselfandfiresfourtimesinquicksuccession.
Fourshotsslamhardintothetrough.
Gingermoves,closesoneeye,andaimscarefullyatKylie’sshoulderpeekingoutfrombehindacrackintheconcrete,butthereisn’tgoingtobeanothershot.Therevolverisempty.
“Shit!”Gingersays.
She’soutofammo,Rachelthinks,andshetakesthenine-millimeterfromKylie,stands,aims,anddeliberatelypullsthetrigger.Thetriggerdoesn’tdoanything.Thenine-millimeterisemptyor,morelikely,jammedandshehasnoideahowtofixajam.
Thetwowomenglareateachother.
Anotherlookofrecognition.
MirrorRachel,MirrorGinger,youcouldbeme,Icouldbeyou.
Rachelshakesherhead.She’snotbuyingintothatwe’re-not-so-different-you-and-Ibullshit.Weallhavechoices.
Gingersmilesanddropshergun.
“I’mcomingforyou,”Rachelsnarlsandrunsather.
Gingerquicklyassumesaself-defensestance,butRachel’smomentumknocksthembothtotheground.
GingerspringstoherfeetandRachelfindssomethingmetalonthefloorandtossesitather;itmissesandthudsintothecinder-blockwall.
RachelgetsupandthrowsafistatGingerbutshe’sfartooslowandGingereasilydodgesitwithaneatsidestep.Ginger’sblueeyesglintwithpleasureasshehead-buttsastunnedRachelintheface.
Rachelhasneverhadhernosebrokenbefore,andthepainissoshockingthatsheismomentarilyblinded.Gingerpunchesherintheribs,stomach,andtheleftbreast.
Rachelwinces,collapsesontooneknee,andthensomehowgetsupagain.
“Youlikedthat,bitch?You’lllovethis,”Gingersaysandshepunchesherinthethroat,theleftbreastagain,andthensquareonherbloodynose.
Heavy,well-placed,well-aimedblowsthathurt.
Rachelgoesdownhard.
GingerleapsontopofherandflipsRachelontoherback.
GingerissoquickandefficientthatRachelhasnochance.
“No,ugh.”RachelgaspsasGinger’shandswraparoundherthroatandsqueeze.
“Iknewyouweretrouble.Knewitrightfromthestart,”Gingersays,herwild,ecstatic,crazyfaceleeringaboveRachel.Spittleisflyingfromhermouth.She’sgrinning.She’senjoyingthis.“Iknewit!”Gingersaysandsqueezesharder.InFBIself-defenseclass,shelearnedhowtochokesomeoneoutinafewseconds.
Rachel’svisionistunneling.
Everythingisbecomingwhite.
“You’regoingtodie,bitch!”Gingeryells.
Tunnel.
Whiteness.
Nothingness.
Rachelknowssheisdisappearingforevernow.
Shecanfeelherlifedribblingawayontothegrimyconcretefloor.
HowtotellKylieshelovesherbutthatsheisn’tgoingtomakeit?
Can’ttellher.Can’ttalk.Can’tbreathe.
Nothinganyonecando.
Rachelunderstandseverythingnow.
TheChainisacruelmethodofexploitingthemostimportanthumanemotion—thecapacityforlove—tomakemoney.Itwouldn’tworkinaworldwheretherewasnofilialorsiblingorromanticlove,andonlyasociopathwhoiswithoutloveorwhodoesn’tunderstandlovecoulduseitforherends.
LoveiswhatundidAriadneandTheseus.
TheMinotaurtoo,intheBorgesstory.
Love,orafumblingattemptatlove,iswhatnearlyundidGinger.
Rachelseesallthat.
Sheunderstands.
TheChainisametaphorforthetiesthatbindallofustofriendsandfamily.Itistheumbilicallinkbetweenmotherandchild,thewayorpaththattheheromusttravelinaquest,anditisthethinclewofcrimsonthreadthatisthesolutionAriadnecomesupwithtotheproblemofthelabyrinth.
Rachelunderstandsitall.
Knowledgeissorrow.
Shecloseshereyesandfeelsthedarknesswraparoundher.
Theworldisdiminishing,fading,fallingfaraway…
Thenshefeelssomethingelse.
Somethingsharp.Somethingthatcuts.Somethingthathurts.Along,thinshardofglass.
Herthumbdragsitacrossthefloorandherhandwrapsaroundit.
Herhandsarebloodybuthergripisstrong.
RachelKlein,avoiderofmirrors,hastumbledthroughthelookingglassandtakenapieceofthatglasswithher.
ShewillgiveittoGingerasagift.
Yes.
Andwiththelastbreathinherbody,shearcsthesplinterofglasshardintoGinger’sthroat.
GingerscreamsandletsgoofRachelandclawsatherneck.
Shefumblesattheglassandtriestosaveherselfbutthecarotidisseveredandafountofcrimsonarterialbloodisalreadypouringfromthewound.
Rachelrollsawayfromherandgulpsair.Ginger’seyeswiden.“Iknewyouwere…”shesaysandcollapsestothefloor,dead.
Rachelbreathesandcloseshereyesandopensthemagain.
AndnowitisonlyKyliehuggingher.
HuggingherfortwentysecondsandthengettingupandpressingaragagainstthewoundinPete’sabdomen.
Thebulletsomehowmissedthemajorbloodvessels,butheneedsmedicalattention.Quick.
Kyliefindshermom’sphoneanddials911.Shetellsthedispatcherthatsheneedsthepoliceandanambulance.
KyliehandsthephonetoStuartandgoestohelpherdad.
StuarttellsthedispatcherexactlyhowtogettothemfromRoute1A.Whenheseesthehousebehindthemisburning,hetellsthemtosendthefiredepartmenttoo.“Stayontheline,honey,helpisontheway,”thedispatchersays.
KyliefindspiecesoftarpandputsoneoverherunclePeteandherdadandanotheraroundhermomandStuartasprotectionagainstthewindandsnowhowlingthroughtheabattoir.
“Comehere,”RachelsaystoKylieandStuart,andshepullsthetwokidsclose
Shetellsthemit’sgoingtobeallrightinthevoicemothershaveusedtoreassuretheirlittleonesfortensofthousandsofyears.
“HowcanIhelp?”Martyasks,crawlingtowardthem.
“HelpUnclePete.Keeppressureonhiswound,”Kyliesaystoherdad.
MartynodsandpressestheraghardagainstPete’sstomach.“Hanginthere,bigbrother,I’msureyou’vefacedworsethanthis,”Martysays.
Pete’swoundlooksterrible,buthisdarkeyesstillhavefireinthem.Deathisgoingtohavetodealwithaforcethatisshamanic,strong,inimical.
Embersarefallingontotheremainsoftheabattoir’sroof.
“Guys,wemayhavetogetoutofhere,”Martysays.
Rachellooksattheferociousblazetakingholdoftheentirewestsideofthehouse.
“CanwemovePete?”sheasks.
“Ithinkweneedto,”Martyreplies.
Flamesengulfthehouse’supperstoryandsendthewoodendeckcrashingtotheground.
Snowandembersmingleintheslaughterhouse,driftingdownfromtheblacksky.
“IthinkIhearthemcoming,”Rachelsaysasthesoundofsirenscomesoutofthenight.
KyliesmilesandStuartnodsandRacheltightensthetarpaulinaroundthem.Itwillbehardtoeverletherdaughtergoagain.Impossible.RachelkissesKylieonthetopofherhead.
Peteisgladtoseeit.
Heblinksslowly.
Hetriestosaysomethingbuttherearenowordsnow.
Heknowshe’sgoingintoshock.Hehasseenitamilliontimes.He’llneedamedicsoonifhe’sgoingtosurvive.
Martyisspeakingtohim,butheneedsthe—whereisit?
Hisfingerssearchthegrounduntiltheytouchhisgrandfather’sColt.45,supposedlyfiredinangerataZeroheadingfortheUSSMissouri
Petesomehowmanagestoliftit.
Hisgrandfather’s.45…theluckycharmthatkepttheoldmansafethroughthePacificandkeptPetehimselfsafethroughfivecombattours.
Petehopesthereisjustoneounceofluckleftinit.
74
Eversincehewaslittle,peoplehavecalledhimRed.They’dchristenedhimDaniel,afterhisfather,buttheoldmanisalittletoofreewithhisfiststobepopularwiththeboy.
IntheservicetheycallhimRed.OrSarge.OrSergeantFitzpatrick.Redhelikes.
Thearmyisgoodforhim.Thearmyteacheshimhisletters.
There’sRedintheremedialreadingclass.Redskimmingthefunnypapers.Reddiggingthecomics.AswollenredKryptonsun.Supermanwalkingtheredroad.
Thearmysendshimoverseas.
Redinthejungle.
Redinthedelta.
RedinawhorehouseinNhaTrang.
RedinawhorehouseinSaigon.
Heknowsthewhoresarescaredofhim.Thewhoresdon’tlikehiseyesorthefish-scalebirthmarkonhisneck.Thewhoresdon’tcallhimRedorDanielorSergeant.Behindhisbacktheycallhim?ngmaquy,whichmeans“seademon.”
Redinachopper.
RedinafirefightintheIaDrangValley.Redkeepingcoolasmortarscomein.RedgettingrecommendedfortheSilverStar.
RedbackinAmericabeingpresentedwithababyboybyhisSouthiegirlfriend.
RedjoiningtheBostonPD.
It’sthemid-1960sandtherearealotofopportunitiesforayoungmanonthemake.Sometimesyouhavetosmackafewpeoplearound.
Sometimesyouhavetodoalotworse.
RedstainsonthefloorofaDorchestershebeen.
Redalloverthewallsofasnitch’sbasementapartment.
Redthehands.Redtheeyes.Roomsfullofred.
Red’swiferunsoffwithanothermantoMichigan.RedfootprintsinthesnowoutsideahouseinAnnArbor.
Red’sboygrowsupandfollowshisoldmanintolawenforcement.
Glorydays.
Red-letterdays.
Beforethefall.Beforethathippiebitchcomesintohisboy’slife.
Heisanoldmannow.Hishairiswhite.ButtheoldRedisstillthere.
Theythinktheycankillme?
I’mhardtokill.
Redpickshimselfupoffthelinen-closetfloorwherehehasbeenrecovering.Helimpstotheroomnexttothelibrary.Smokeiseverywhere.Thehouseisonfire.Hefindsthefirst-aidkit.Helooksattheshotgunwoundinhisside.He’shadworse.Worseinthatgunbattlewithhoodsin’77.WorsewhenacollectionwentwronginReverein’85.
Ayoungermanthen,though.Amuchyoungerman.
He’sbleedingbad.Redthebandages.Redthelint.Helimpstothegunrack.There’syellingandshootingcomingfromtheoldabattoiroutside.
HegetshimselfanM16withanunderslungM203grenadelauncher.
Theonlyweapontochoosewhenyouneedsomethingmoreconvincing.
Hestaggerstothekitchen,coughinginthethickblacksmoke.
Thehurtisincredible.Atleastfourbrokenribsandprobablyapuncturedlung.Buthe’llgetthroughit.Redwouldgetthroughitandhe’sstillRedevenifhishairiswhite.
Hestaggersoutintotheblizzardandshufflestowardthebackoftheoldslaughterhouse.
Onestepatatimethroughsearingpain.
Heblinksthesnowoutofhiseyes.
It’sonlyfiftyfeetbutitmightaswellbefiftyyards.
Heisreducedtocrawling.Hisoutbreathsarefrothingblood.Definitelyapuncturedlung.
Hereachesthereardooroftheabattoir.Thedeathentrance.
Redonthedirt.Redthehandrailandthesnow.
Breathingishard.Hehasonlyoneworkinglungandthatisfillingwithbloodtoo.
Heclimbsthelastconcretestepandpeersoverthelipofthebackdoor.
Thearclightisonandhecanseeeverything.
Therearehistwobelovedgrandchildrendeadonthefloor.Thekidshe’drescuedallthoseyearsago.Theonlyoneswhoeverreallylovedhimorunderstoodhim.OllyandGingerintheworldofred.
Thatwomanisthere,huddledwiththetwokidsunderatarp.Martyandanothermanarelyingonthefloornexttothem—both,apparently,stillalive.Notforlong.
RedraisestheM16andputshisfingeronthetriggeroftheunderslunggrenadelauncher.Itisloadedwithanarmor-piercinghigh-explosivegrenadethatwillkilleveryoneintheroom.Probablyincludinghim.
That’sgood,hethinks,andhepullsthetrigger.
75
Peopletalkingfromalongwayoff.Somethingcoldandwetfallingonhisface.
Whereishe?
Ohyeah.
Blackedoutforasecondthere.Martyistalkingtohim.Tryingtolifthimup.RachelisholdingKylieandStuart.
Pete’sholdinghis.45.HelooksalongthelineofthefloorandseesDanielatthebackentranceoftheabattoiratthesametimethatDanielseeshim.TheoldmanhasanM16withagrenade-launcherattachment.
Rachel’swrong.Itisdeepstuff.Itismythology.Oldversusyoung,armyversusnavy,catharsisversuschaos.Clearlythegodofwariskeepingoneofthemalivejustforhisownamusement.
Bothofthempulltheirtriggers.Theoldmanpullshisfirstandhehasonlythebriefestmomentofconfusionwhenthemetaltriggerstaysinplace.Confusionandthenrealization:HeforgottoflickoffthemanualsafetyontheM203grenadelauncher.TheM203isdangerous.Youcan’thaveitgoingoffwilly-nilly.Itneedstobearmedandthesafetyswitchedoffbyhand.
Shit.
HefumblesfortheclunkysafetycatchforasplitsecondbeforePete’sgunbarrelflaresabrilliantwhiteandDaniel’schestexplodesinpainandfireandhissouliscleavedbyaslugfromaWorldWarII.45.
76
Shapes.Sirens.Snow.
Ablanket.
“I’msorry,Pete,butthisplaceisgoingupinflames.Wegottagetyououtside.”
Rachel,Kylie,andStuarthelpMartyandPeteacrosstheabattoirfloortotheexit.
Theystaggerawayfromtheburningbuildingandcollapseinthesnow.Behindthem,bottledgastanksunderthekitchenbeginexploding.
“Comeon!”Rachelsaysandcarriesanddragsthemfartherawayfromtheproperty.
Blueflames.
Snowflakes.
Flashinglights.
AMiskatonicRiverValleyfireengineiscominguptheroad.ThewordFireisspelledoutmirror-backwardaboveabigyellowarrow.
Rachelnods.
Threedeadfoxesandtheyellowarrowatlast.Deliverancefinallyathand.
PetebeckonsRachelclose.
“Yes?”
“IfIdon’tmakeit,don’tletthemcastsomeassholetoplaymeinthemovieversionofthis,”hecroaks.
Shegrinsandkisseshim.
“Onemorething,”hesays,buthisvoicediesinhisthroat.
“Metoo,”sheagreesandkisseshimagain.
77
NooneisgoingtoplayPeteinthemovieversionofthis.Peteisfartoocontroversialafigureforamovie.Aftertheirconfessions,PeteandRachelarechargedwithfelonykidnapping,falseimprisonment,andchildendangerment.Forthataloneit’sfiftyyearsinprison.
Andthenthere’sthelittleexpeditiontoInnsmouth.Wasthatavigilanterescueattemptorahomeinvasion?
Ithastakenalongtimetosorteverythingout.
IthastakenateamoffederalagentsweekstofullyanalyzeTheChaindocumentstheyfoundonGinger’sharddrive.
IthastakentheDunleavyfamilytoheroicallystepforwardandtellthepolicethatRacheltookAmeliawiththeirconsentbecauseshetoldthemthatshewasgoingtobreakTheChain.Thatexplainsthemoneytoo.Thecopsdon’tbelieveawordofit,butit’sclearthattheDunleavysaregoingtobehostilewitnessesforanyprosecution.
Bythistime,thetideofcompassionisfullywithRachelandPeteandallthevictimsofTheChain.Thepublicisoverwhelminglybehindthem;RachelandPetearesympatheticdefendants,andthere’sahighprobabilityofjurynullification.TheMassachusettsAttorneyGeneral’sofficecanseewhichwaythewindisblowing.RachelandPetearereleasedfromcustodypendingfurtherinquiries.AndwithouttheDunleavyfamilytestifyingagainstthem,withthepublicontheirside,andwithGinger’scareerofevilbecomingmoreandmoreapparent,Rachel’slawyerstellherthatanexpensive,unpopulartrialnowlooksveryunlikelyindeed.Rachelhaskilledthemonster.TheChainhasbeenstoppedforeverandeveryonewhowasalinkinthatchainhasbeenfreed.
ThehistoryofTheChainitselfisbeinginvestigatedbydozensofreporters.AjournalistfromtheBostonGlobediscoversitsrootsinasubstitute-kidnappingschemethatbeganinMexico.
TherearehundredsofvictimsofTheChainbutthefearofretaliationandtheoccasionalbrutal,bloodyreprisalwereenoughtokeepalmostallofthemquietovertheyears.
That,anyway,iswhatRachelhasreadinthepress.That’stheGlobesummary.Therearemoresensationalaccountsinthetabloidsandontheinternet.Butforself-preservation,Racheldoesn’treadthetabloidsandshehasn’treallygoneontheinternetsinceshe’sbeenreleasedfromcustody.
Racheldoesn’tgiveinterviews;sheavoidsthelimelight;shedoesn’tdoanythingmuchbutpickupherdaughterfromschoolandwritehercommunity-collegephilosophylectures,andeventually,throughtheseprudentun-twenty-first-centurymeasures,shebecomesoldnews.
Graduallyshe’snolongeratrendingtopiconTwitterorInstagram.Someotherpoordevilhascomealongtotakeherplace.Andthenanotheronewillcomealongafterthat.Andthenanother.It’sallveryfamiliar…
InNewburyportshe’sstillrecognized—howcouldshenotbe?—butwhenshedrivesuptothemallsinNewHampshireorintotheBostonsuburbs,she’sanonymousagainandthat’sthewayshelikesit.
AsunnymorninginlateMarch.
Rachelisinbedwithherlaptop.Shedeletesthetwentynewrequestsfromhere-mailinboxaskingforinterviewsandclosesthecomputer.Peteisnextdoorintheshower.Singing.Badly.
Shesmiles.Peteisdoingreallygreatnowonhismethadoneprogramandathisbrand-newjobasasecurityconsultantforahigh-techfirminCambridge.Shewalksbarefootintothekitchen,lightsthestove,fillsthekettle,andputsthewaterontoboil.
Upstairs,shecanheartheoccasionalpingofKylie’siPad.Kylie’sawakeandhunkeredunderthesheets,chattingwithherfriends.Kylieisalsodoingamazinglywell.Theyalwayssaythatkidsareresilientandcanbouncebackfromtrauma,butit’sstillincredibletoseehowhighsheisbouncingback.
Ateighto’clock,Stuartcomesbyandshegiveshimahugandhesitstherepettingthecat,waitingpatientlyforKylietobeready.Stuartalsoisdoinggreat,andoutofallofthemheseemstobetheonediggingthefamethemost.AlthoughMartyalsoappearstobeenjoyingalltheattention.HehaspoppedupontheTVseveraltimestotalkabouthisexperiences.Andwitheachtelling,hisownroleintherescuehasbecomealittlebitmoreextravagant.Martyisallrightandhisnew,veryyounggirlfriend,Julie,seemstobelievethattheyareallinsomekindofromcomtogetherinwhichRachel,thegloomyfirstwife,willeventuallybewonoverbyhereffervescentcharms.
Rachelsitsdownatthedining-roomtableandopensherlaptopagain.Herthoughtsdrift.ShethumbsthroughSarahBakewell’sAttheExistentialistCaféandismomentarilytakenabackbyastrikingpictureofSimonedeBeauvoirwearingabroochintheshapeofalabyrinth.
SheshutsthebookandwavesatDr.Havercampashewalksthroughthereedstopumpthebilgefromhisboat.
“Tryingtostartthislecturewithajoke,Stuart.Howdoesthissound?‘MyfriendisopeningabookstoretosellGermanphilosophytexts.Itoldhimitwouldn’twork—it’stoomuchofaNietzschemarket,’”Rachelsayswithalookoftriumph.
Stuartgrimaces.
“Notgood?”Rachelasks.
“I’mnotreallyqualifiedtojudgethe,uh…”
“Whathe’stryingtosay,Mother,isthatyourcomedystylingsskewtoanolderdemographic,”Kyliesays,leaningoverthebalconyrail.
Petecomesoutoftheshowerandshakeshishead.“IhopeyourplanBisn’tacareerinstand-up,”hesays.
“Tohellwithallofyou!”Rachelsaysandshutsthelaptop.
Wheneveryone’sreadytheygoouttothecar,andsincethey’reearlyforschool,theyswingbyDunkin’DonutsonRoute1.
Rachellooksatherdaughterasshetakesabiteofabearclaw.KylieandStuartarearguingaboutspoilersforseasonthreeofStrangerThings.Thisisnearlytheold,carefree,bullshittyKylieagain.Thesplinterwillalwaysbethere,ofcourse.Thedarkness.They’llneverquitebeabletogetthatout.It’spartofhernow,partofallofthem.Butthebed-wettinghasstoppedandthebaddreamsarefewer.Andthat’ssomething.
“OK,here’sonethat’sawinner.Howmanyhipstersdoesittaketochangealightbulb?”sheasks.
“Mom,don’t!Please.Don’teven!”Kyliepleads.
“Howmany?”Stuartasks.
“It’saprettyobscurenumber,you’veprobablyneverheardofit,”Rachelsays,andatleastPetegrins.
SheleavesthekidsatschoolandshedropsPeteatthecommuter-railstopinNewburyport.Hisnewjobrequireshimtowearasuitandhehatesthat.Heiscontinuallyfussingwithhistie.
“Leaveitalone!Youlookfabulous,”shesaysandmeansit.
Whenhistraincomes,shewalksbacktotheVolvo,drivesintotown,andgoesstraighttotheWalgreens.ShechecksthatMaryAnne,thecashiersheknows,isn’tworking,andsheslinksdowntheaislestothepregnancy-test-kitsection.
There’sabafflingnumberofchoices.Shegrabsakitmoreorlessatrandomandtakesittothecounter.
Thecashierisahigh-school-agegirlwhosenametagclaimsthatshe’sRipley.She’sreadingMoby-Dick
Shedoesn’tappeartobeatthe“devious-cruisingRachel”bit.Theireyesmeet.
“Whatchapterareyouon?”Rachelasks.
“Seventy-six.”
“Amanoncetoldmethatallbooksshouldendatchapterseventy-seven.”
“God,Iwishthisonedid.Ihaveloadstogo.Hey,um,youshouldprobablygettheClearbluekit,”thegirlsays.
“TheClearblue?”
“Youthinkyou’resavingmoneybygettingtheFastResponse.ButtheFastResponsehasahigherrateoffalsepositives.”Shelowershervoice.“Ispeakfromexperience.”
“I’llgettheClearblue,”Rachelsays.
Shepaysforthekit,getsanothercoffeefromtheStarbucksonStateStreet,anddrivesbacktotheisland.
Shegoestothebathroom,takesthekitoutofthebox,readstheinstructions,urinatesonthestickoverthetoiletbowl,andputsthestickbackinthebox.
It’ssurprisinglywarmforMarch,soshetakestheboxandgoesoutsideandsitsontheedgeofthedeckwithherfeetdanglingabovethesand.
Thetide’sin.Thesmelloftheseaisstrong.WispsofheatarerisingabovethebighousesontheAtlanticside.Agawkingwhiteheronwadesamongtheweedsasahawkflieswestwardtowardthemainland.
Fishingboats.Crabbers.Thelazybarkofadogdownneartheconveniencestore.
Shefeelstheforceofthemetaphors—comfort,stability,safety.
ThoreaucalledPlumIslandthe“bleakSaharaofNewEngland,”butitisn’tthattoday.
Shelooksattheboxinherhand.Theboxthatcontainstwopossiblefutures.Twofuturesthataretumblingtowardheratsixtysecondsineveryminute,sixtyminutesineveryhour.
Oneheartbeatatatime.
Shesmiles.
EitherfuturewillbeOK.
AllfutureswillbeOK.
Shehasrescuedherdaughterfromthedark.
Shehasslainthemonster.
Therearechallengesahead.
Amillionchallenges.
ButshehasKylieback.
ShehasPete.
Shehassurvived.
Lifeisfragile,fleeting,andprecious.
Andtoliveatallismiracleenough.
AfterwordandAcknowledgments
Itonlytakestwofacingmirrorstoconstructalabyrinth.JorgeLuisBorges,SevenNights
IwrotethefirstdraftofTheChaininMexicoCityin2012afterlearningabouttheMexicanconceptofexchangekidnappings,wherebyafamilymemberoffershimselforherselfasareplacementhostageforamorevulnerablekidnapvictim.Itiedthatideatoaneventfromthelate1970s—theeraofpoisonouschainletters.ThepartofIrelandIgrewupinwasverysuperstitious,andwecompletelybelievedinthepowerofwrittenenchantments.Myfifth-gradeteachertoldtheclasstobringinanyoftheselettersthatwereupsettingus,andIgaveherachainletterthatwasworryingme.Shedestroyeditalongwiththeothers,defyingtheauthor’spromisesofjinxes,disasters,andbadluckandeffectivelybreakingthechain.Thisincidentdeeplyimpressedmeasakid,anditstayedwithme.Periodicallyoverthenextthreedecades,I’daskmymotherhowMrs.Carlislewasdoing,andIwasalwaysrelievedtohearthatshewasgettingthroughliferelativelyunscathed.
Backin2012IwroteTheChainasashortstory,butIthoughtithadthemakingsofanovel,soIbasicallyleftitunfinishedinadrawerforfiveyears.In2017Ifinallygotmyselfafull-timeliteraryagent,ShaneSalerno,founderoftheStoryFactory.IhadbeenwritingtheSeanDuffyseriesofdetectivenovelssetintheBelfastofmyyouth,andalthoughthesebooksweregettingwellreviewedandwinningafewawards,theyweren’tquitebreakingthroughinthewayIwanted.ShanephonedandaskedifIhadanAmericanbookinme,andIpitchedhimtheshort-storyversionofTheChain.Iheardsomethingdropandsmashinhiskitchen,andheurgedmetostopwhateverIwasdoingandimmediatelybeginwritingTheChainasanovel,whichiswhatIdid.
Allbooksaresomethingofacollaborativeprocess,andI’dliketothankDonWinslow,SteveHamilton,SteveCavanagh,JohnMcFetridge,andShaneSalernoforlookingatearlydraftsofTheChainandlobbingintelligentsuggestionsmyway.
MyactualbrillianteditoratMulholland,JoshKendall,poredoverthemanuscriptwiththekeeneyesofaforensicdiagnostician.Hecontinuallyforcedmetoconsiderwhetheranideaorconceptwasastightorcompellingasitcouldbe.AtMulhollandandLittle,BrownIwouldalsoliketothankthetirelessandbrilliantTracyRoe,PamelaMarshall,KatharineMyers,PamelaBrown,CraigYoung,ReaganArthurandMichaelPietsch,andtheentiresalesteam.AtOrionIamindebtedtoEmadAkhtar,LeanneOliver,TomNoble,JenWilson,SarahBenton,andKatieEspinerfortheirblood,sweat,andtears.AndatHachetteAustralia,specialthankstoVanessaRadnidge,JustinRatcliffe,andDanielPilkington.
IwanttothankthestaffoftheNewburyportPublicLibrary,whereIdidmuchoftheresearchforTheChain,andthestaffoftheGeorgeBrucebranchoftheNewYorkPublicLibraryinHarlem,whoprovidedmewithaquietspacetowrite.Ridingeithercoincidenceorsympatheticmagic,whileonassignmentinPragueforamagazinearticleonwriter’sblock,IwrotethefinalchaptersofTheChaininFranzKafka’soldoffice(nowahotel)atNaPo?í?í7.
ToconcludetheseacknowledgmentsI’dliketoexpressmygratitudetoSeamusHeaney,RuthRendell,DonWinslow,IanRankin,BrianEvenson,ValMcDermid,andDianaGabaldon,whohavegivenmeencouragementandadviceovertheyearsandwhotoldmetojusthangintherewhenIoftenwonderedifIwasreallycutoutforthiswritingmalarkey.
Andfinally,tomywife,LeahGarrett,alwaysmyfirstandmostperceptivereader,andtomydaughters,ArwynnandSophie,fornotonlyprovidingmewithadviceonteenmoresandvernacularbutforteachingmewhatyouarecapableofwhenyourkids’healthorhappinessisthreatened.
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AbouttheAuthor
AdrianMcKintywasbornandgrewupinCarrickfergus,NorthernIreland.HestudiedphilosophyatOxfordUniversityonafullscholarshipbeforeimmigratingtotheUnitedStates.HeistheauthorofadozencrimenovelsthathavewontheEdgarAward,NedKellyAward,BarryAward,andAnthonyAwardandhavebeentranslatedintomorethantwentylanguages.HeisabookcriticfortheSydneyMorningHerald,theIrishTimes,andTheGuardian.HecurrentlylivesinNewYorkCitywithhiswifeandtwodaughters.
Visithiswebsiteatadrianmckinty.blogspot.comorfollowhimonTwitter@adrianmckintyoronFacebookatfacebook.com/adrianmckintybooks.
OTHERMYSTERIESANDTHRILLERSBYADRIANMcKINTY
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