“That’s why I’m here,” she said with a smile.
“We all have been waiting a very long time for you to finally come to the property, Alex. We’d all hate it if you got yourself killed on our watch.”
Alex didn’t want to tell the man what he thought of his chances of success. “You be careful, too, Hal.”
Alex turned the key as Hal nodded.
Nothing happened. Alex sighed.
“Hal, could you give me a little push, please, to get us rolling. The starter has a dead spot in it.”
Hal put a hand against the windshield pillar. “If this happens once you get out on the property you’re going to be in trouble. You can’t roll the truck to get it started on those rutted dirt and rock roads. Listen—I assume you planned on grabbing some sleep in Westfield tonight?”
“That’s the plan,” Alex said. “Unless you have a better place.”
“No,” Hal said, shaking his head. “Not a lot of choices going that way, unless you’d like to sleep in the truck, but I don’t advise that, not out all alone where unfriendly eyes could look in and spot you sleeping. Kind of dangerous. Better to stay in a room.”
“I thought the same thing.”
“A lot of people up that way drive four-wheelers. Westfield has a small Jeep dealership. You ought to stop in first thing in the morning and let them fix the starter while you get any supplies you need.”
“Thanks for the tip. You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve been putting off getting the starter fixed.”
“Take care,” Hal said as he leaned his weight in and pushed. “As soon as I run the background checks I’ll head out to the property to be close if you need me,” he said as he trotted along beside the truck, pushing.
As they picked up enough speed, Alex let the clutch out. The engine turned over and started without a fuss. Alex waved good-bye to Hal, then rolled up the window as he made his way out of the lot back toward Hammond Street.
“You can take a nap if you’d like,” he said to Jax.
“I’d rather keep a lookout. Cain’s people are waiting for us somewhere out in that darkness.”
52.
MAY I SEE YOUR DRIVER’S LICENSE, PLEASE?” the young woman behind the counter asked as she entered information into a computer.
Alex glanced out the side window, keeping an eye on Jax to make sure she was all right. The blue “Vacancy” sign lit up the side of her face as she sat in the idling Jeep just outside watching him. Tired as he was, he reminded himself that he had to remain vigilant.
Alex tossed the license that said “Hank Croft” across the counter to the woman. Displayed under the glass that covered the counter were brochures for sightseeing tours, kayak rentals, a logging museum, and nearby places to visit. Menus from several local restaurants were also on display.
Alex didn’t know if the phony name would do any good in throwing their pursuers off track. To get to the land he had to drive in from Westfield or come the long way around from the other side of town, or come in from way north. Those were the only three possible routes to get to the road onto the land, or to even get close to the remote property. He was sure that there had to be people watching for him and Jax on all three of those routes. Those people would have a description.
Unless he dropped in from the sky, Alex had no real hope of sneaking onto the land unseen. Cain’s people had the advantage of knowing right where he and Jax were headed, while they, on the other hand, had no way of knowing who was from another world and might be watching them, ready to pounce at any moment.
For all Alex knew, the Westfield Inn could be run by people from another world just like the ninth floor of Mother of Roses had been. He and Jax could be ambushed in their sleep. He wondered if he was starting to be too paranoid. Given everything he knew, he wondered if that was even possible.
The young woman handed his license back. “Thank you, Mr. Croft. Here’s your key and your receipt.” She leaned forward to look out the screen door as she pointed to the right in an exaggerated manner. “Down the drive to the end of the building, follow it around to the second entrance. The room is inside to the left.”
“Thanks.” Alex picked up the key and papers. “Can you tell me where the Jeep dealership is?”
“Sure.” She pointed in the opposite direction. “Just keep going down the highway into town. It’s only a tenth of a mile or so. You can almost see it from here. It will be on your right. You can’t miss it.” She snorted a little laugh to herself. “It’s not like Westfield is very big.”
Alex drove through the fairly crowded lot and found their room without any difficulty. He took the box with the knife in with him. He was afraid to let it out of his sight.
Entering the room, he flicked on a small light over the door. He saw by the glowing red numbers on the clock on the nightstand that it was well past midnight. He was dead tired and falling asleep on his feet. He kept his hand on his holstered gun as he checked the small closet and the bathroom.
“How’s the arm feel?” he asked, after clearing the room and quickly covering the mirrors.
Jax looked equally sleepy. “It’s fine.”
“Liar,” he said as he closed the drapes over the small window that looked out into darkness. He imagined eyes out in that darkness watching, waiting.
Jax looked around at the small room, then tossed the duffel bag on one of the beds. The room smelled like pine-scented cleaner. The color scheme of the cheap decoration was blue and brown. As sleepy as Alex was, the bed looked wonderfully inviting.
He felt discouraged to be this close to their destination without having yet come up with any solid idea of what they needed to do. It was daunting to be at the center of so many things all leading to him, all depending on him. He felt like a fraud, a nobody appointed by fate to do the impossible.
He turned to Jax when she put a hand on his shoulder, as if she were reading his mind and offering silent comfort.
He brushed a lock of blond hair back off her face. “Any ideas come to you yet about how to stop Cain?”
“Sure, one.”
He squinted suspiciously. “What would that be?”
“Only you can make the gateway work for him. I could kill you and then theoretically the gateway would be useless to him.”
Alex couldn’t help but smile. “Then why don’t you?”
She slipped her arms around him and hugged him close, laying her head against his chest. “Because then the world would be a lonely, empty place.”
If she ever left it, it certainly would be.
Alex was so tired he could hardly stand. After a long day of traveling, the heart-pounding terror of the events with the people back in Bangor and his fear that she had been hurt or worse had drained him. The long drive through the night after that had completely sapped any remaining energy he might have had.
It seemed that even his spirit had abandoned him, leaving him feeling nothing but despair at what lay ahead. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but think that the only thing that really lay ahead for them both was death.
He sat down on one of the double beds. Jax sat with him, one arm still around his waist. When he lay back on the bed, she went with him. Together they both moved up to put their heads on the pillow.
In such a remote, lonely place, on such a desperate, lonely mission, their only comfort was with each other. In the shelter of each other’s arms they both silently shared an understanding of the enormity of the task before them and felt at least momentary refuge from its unknown terrors.
They came together in a soft, gentle kiss. Jax was so warm and alive in his arms that it made life itself seem to have a point and a purpose. Her kiss felt as perfect, as compassionate, as any kiss he could imagine.
Somewhere over the course of events since Jax had first come into his life back in Nebraska, she had come to be at the center of his heart. It seemed a mystery exactly when that had happened. In a way, it seemed like he had always known her, always known that he neve
r wanted to be with anyone else but her. There could be no one else.
By the way she kissed him back, he knew she felt the same.
Right then, right there, that feeling seemed complete. There could have been no better comfort in the face of all the difficulty they faced. No matter what happened, they were together. Somehow, that seemed more important, more wonderful, to him than anything else.
In a loose embrace, still fully dressed, they fell asleep.
Alex woke with a start. Jax, still in his arms, woke up when he did. In the muted, mellow light, it took a moment to remember where he was. Weak daylight leaked in around the curtain. The small light over the door around the corner of the bathroom was still on. He looked over at glowing red numbers on the clock on the nightstand. It was a little past seven.
Alex yawned. He wanted to go back to sleep. He wanted to keep holding Jax.
But he couldn’t. He needed to get the Cherokee over to the dealer and see if he could talk them into doing a rush job of replacing the starter. He figured that if he gave them a big tip up front it might help persuade them to hurry.
“Do I have time for a bath?” Jax asked.
“Sure, go ahead. I’ll run the truck down the street and leave it to get the starter fixed. That should give you plenty of time. We’re going to need to go out and pick up some supplies and hopefully by then the starter in the truck should be fixed.”
She rolled over on top of him. “Do we have time for another kiss?”
He pulled her into his arms in answer. Her hair slipped forward over her shoulders to fall around his face, as if even her hair wanted to be close to him. After a long, luxurious kiss she pushed back.
With a finger she brushed his hair back off his forehead. “I’ve never cared this much for anyone.”
“I know. Me neither.”
“Not even Bethany?” she said with a mischievous grin.
“Especially not Bethany,” he said without smiling before he pulled her back for another kiss.
When it ended she pushed back again. “What are we going to do about us?”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged as her eyes turned away. “Well, I’m not from here. If I can find a way, I have to go back.”
She had just touched the agony that tortured him. Alex knew that he couldn’t ask her to turn her back on the people who were depending on her. He didn’t know what or who she was in her world, but he knew that she was someone important there, and that people needed her.
“What if there was a way for me to go with you?”
She sighed. “If only . . . but you can never come to my world. There is no way that can ever happen. Without the spark of the gift that those of us there all carry, you can’t make it into my world. You would only die in the attempt. If you can work the gateway, you can’t use it. I can. With the gateway I would have a way to return home. I must . . .”
Alex swallowed at the painful thought of her leaving his world, leaving him. “Maybe I won’t be able to figure out the gateway.”
“No hope of that,” she said with a sigh. “You’re Alexander Rahl.”
“Well, who knows. We may never have to worry about it.”
Her brow bunched together. “What do you mean?”
“If Cain has his way we’ll both die before then.”
Her smile returned. “You have a way of making me smile even when my heart is breaking.”
“Then you should at least give me another kiss.”
She did. It was a kiss that made the kisses before seem less than meaningful. It took Alex away, made him forget everything but her. It made him feel complete, as if he had never really been alive before that moment. In that moment he felt, for the first time in his life, sheer, perfect bliss.
Finally, she pulled breathlessly away. Alex didn’t think he would ever get enough of looking at her. She was the most perfectly feminine creature he had ever known. She was so beautiful it made him ache for her.
“So,” she whispered as she looked down into his eyes, “do we have time for more than a kiss?”
53.
ALEX HAD BEEN correct—a hundred-dollar tip to the service writer got him an eager promise of prompt attention. Fearing to give the man the phony license because the registration for the Jeep was under his real name, he handed over his real driver’s license instead.
“All right, Mr. Rahl,” the man behind the small podium in the drive-in entrance said, “we’ll have you fixed and back to your vacation in no time. Is there a number where I can reach you?”
“Sorry, I forgot to recharge my cell phone last night. I’ll just check back with you after a while.”
“Give us a few hours and we should have it taken care of.” He pointed with his pen. “You can wait in the lounge, if you like, and I’ll come get you when it’s finished.”
“I have some errands to take care of. I’ll check back.”
“We’ll be here. You can get out the same way—through the lounge.”
Alex thanked the man and made his way past the line of other trucks waiting to be taken in for service. Out the open overhead door the leaden sky seemed like it was descending to smother the town.
As Alex went through the lounge the word “Hamburg” coming from the TV stopped him cold in his tracks.
The morning news anchor on the TV was giving a report about a massive fire at a hotel in Hamburg, Germany. The alarm system in the hotel had reportedly malfunctioned and the firefighters had problems getting adequate water to the site. Dozens of deaths were feared.
“Fifteen minutes later, in London,” the announcer said, “another tragedy struck when a runaway truck crashed into a crowd of people outside a busy train station. Sources say that as many as eleven people were killed with a number of others seriously injured. The driver fled the scene. Police are searching for him and hope to have him in custody soon. Authorities say it is the worst such accident in recent memory.”
Alex stood frozen, his mind racing, as he watched the international news for a few minutes more, waiting to see if they would say anything else, but they went on with stories about a global summit on world economic growth that leaders from the industrialized nations were scheduled to attend in Japan in the coming days.
Alex remembered the note that Hal had found with the maps in the room back in Bangor. It had listed two cities: Hamburg and London. The times written on that note had been for that morning, and they had been fifteen minutes apart. He knew without doubt that it was not a coincidence.
He hurried up the street, suddenly feeling the urgent need to get back to Jax. He rushed into the room and found her pacing. She had an envelope in her hand.
“The phone rang. I answered it. The person said that there was a letter at the front desk for Hank Croft. So I went to the office. They wanted identification. I showed them the thing that Mike Fenton made for me that shows my image and says I’m Jenna Croft. They gave me this.”
Jax handed him the envelope. On the outside was written “Mr. Hank Croft.”
Alex tore it open. Inside was a single folded piece of paper. He recognized the precise handwriting. It was the same as the handwriting on the paper Hal Halverson had found.
Jax bit down nervously on her lower lip as she watched him reading. “Well, what is it?”
“It’s a list of cities—Springfield, Scranton, Raleigh, Tampa, Mobile, Indianapolis, Fort Worth, Grand Rapids, Denver, Bismarck, Winnipeg, Provo, Sydney, Boise, Eugene, Mexico City, Bakersfield. It says ‘Now’ at the bottom.”
Alex’s hands shook as he lowered the paper.
“Do you know what it means?” Jax asked.
“I think I do, but I hope to hell I’m wrong.”
He switched on the TV. The images of confusion and screaming people hit him like a blow.
“Breaking News” ran in a big band across the left corner at the top of the screen. The second line underneath said “Terror Attacks Rock the Nation.” The news crawl rolled slowly across the bottom of th
e screen, listing cities where attacks were reported—all cities that were on the list in Alex’s hand.
“As these reports are just now coming in, the president has promised a statement sometime within the hour,” the anchorwoman said. “We’re also just getting word that mayors and governors across the nation . . .” The woman glanced to the side to someone or something off camera. She looked rattled.
“We’re getting news from Florida.” She cleared her throat.
“Sources are reporting that Hamilton High School in Tampa, Florida, is the scene of a large fire. We have a live report from our local affiliate there in Tampa.”
They switched to a man in a gray suit holding a microphone. In the background a column of smoke rose into a blue sky.
“The county school administrator here in Tampa, Loretta Dean, has just issued a brief statement saying that the fire is confined to the Hamilton High School auditorium. Other, unnamed sources tell us that students were assembled there as they arrived at school to be counseled in dealing with the frightening news of the knife attacks at schools in Raleigh and Indianapolis. It was during that assembly that fire broke out.
“The size of the fire—as you can see in the background—is extensive. Several students we’ve spoken with who managed to escape the blaze tell us that when they tried to get out of the auditorium, they found the exit doors were locked. They say that the people inside panicked and students were trampled in an attempt to escape. Unnamed sources are telling us that the doors were all heavily chained and that over three hundred students and teachers were trapped inside until firefighters were able to use the jaws of life to cut the chains. School officials insist that they have never used chains on school doors. Firefighters were not able to determine how many students may have been overcome by smoke and died before they were able to gain entrance.”
The reporter went to news footage that showed mass panic, with parents screaming and crying as they arrived on scene.