The Missing

Darby gripped the teenager by the shoulders. ‘Listen to me. I know you’re scared, but you can’t cry or scream. You can’t do that, understand? I don’t want him to find us. We’ve got to find a way out of here, and I need you to be strong for me. I need you to be brave. Can you do that?’

A woman screamed – too close, the sound coming from directly in front of them.

Darby clamped a hand over Carol’s mouth and pressed her up against the wall as a door slammed shut. The woman screamed again, coming from the room Carol was just in.

The woman started begging for her life. ‘Please… I’ll do anything you want, just don’t hurt me, please.’

Carol sobbed beneath Darby’s hand, her tears spilling over Darby’s fingers.

THUMP and Carol jumped as the woman screamed in horror.

CRACK and the woman’s scream turned to a gurgling rasp, Frank Sinatra singing ‘Fly Me to the Moon.’

THUMP, CRACK, THUMP, and then there was nothing but the sound of Evan’s heavy breathing. He was in the next room. Evan had killed one of the women and now he was tapping the axe against the wall, thump-thump-thump, trying to get Carol to scream, to find out where she was hiding.

The thumping sound stopped. Darby stared down at the hole. Come on, put your head through and take a look. All she needed was one good kick and she could break his nose. If he poked his head through and looked the other way, she could kick him hard in the back of the head and kick him unconscious.

Frank Sinatra started singing ‘My Way.’

Evan didn’t look through the hole.

Had he left?

Darby waited. Waited some more. Risk it, take a look.

Darby whispered in Carol’s ear: ‘I’m going to look through the hole. Stay here, and whatever you do, don’t move or scream, okay?’

Carol nodded. Darby knelt on the floor.

Past the dead woman’s hands, Darby saw black boots standing by an opened door. Evan was still in there, waiting. She saw the bloody axe hovering near his ankle.

Evan headed into another room, slamming the door behind him. Another door slammed shut, Frank Sinatra singing ‘The Way You Look Tonight.’

Darby had an idea. Oh God, please let this work.

‘Carol, this skeleton you saw, do you remember where it is?’

‘It’s back through there,’ Carol said, pointing at the hole.

‘I need you to show me.’

‘Don’t leave me here.’

‘I’m not going to leave you.’

‘You promise?’

‘I promise.’ Darby took off her shirt and handed it to Carol. ‘I’m going to go through the hole first. Once I get in there, I’m going to tell you to close your eyes and then I’m going to help pull you through again. Just give me a moment.’

Darby wiggled her way through the hole, the blood soaking through her T-shirt. After Carol came through, her eyes closed, Darby held her hand and led her away from the mangled body on the floor.

‘You can open your eyes now,’ Darby said. ‘Now show me where you saw the skeleton.’

‘It’s through that door.’

Darby eased it open. The hallway was empty. She closed the door softly behind them. Carol led Darby through two rooms, then a third, Darby staying out front and checking the blind spots while committing each room to memory.

Now they were standing in a corridor with a concrete wall. We must be at one end of the maze. But which end?

Carol pointed to the pitch-black end of the corridor. Lying on the floor was a torn shirt.

‘It’s down there.’

Breathing hard, Darby led the way through the dark, holding Carol’s hand.

At the dead end of the corridor was a scattering of bones small and large – the fractured end of a femur, a tibia and a cracked skull. Darby wondered if Evan and Boyle had left the bones here to scare the other women.

Wait, back to the femur. It was spiked at the end. Sharp. Use that.

Bone clutched in her hand, Darby ran to the opposite end of the corridor with Carol. Only one door down here. Darby eased the door open and came face-to-face with the man from the woods.

Chapter 68

Evan’s head was covered by the same mask of dirty Ace bandages she had seen over two decades ago, the eyes and mouth covered with the same strips of black cloth. Blood was splashed against his blue coveralls and carpenter’s belt, which had been modified to accommodate several knives and a gun holster.

Carol screamed as Evan swung the axe. Darby slammed the door shut and threw her weight against it. This door didn’t have a push-button lock like some of the others. Carol helped her try to hold the door in place.

THUMP as the axe split the wood, the blade sinking deep into Darby’s cheek.

Darby screamed but kept her weight against the door. Had to run, where could they run? THUMP as the axe came down again. Think, they had to hide, think – the hole in the room with the dead body. Evan couldn’t fit through it. Go that way. They’d have to run fast to make it.

A gunshot blew away the wood next to Darby’s head. She gripped Carol’s hand and ran fast through the dark rooms and corridors. Please God, please don’t let either of us trip. Darby threw doors shut behind her as she ran, Evan chasing after them, his footsteps growing closer… closer… too close.

Another gunshot hit the wall behind her. Carol screamed and Darby pushed her into the room with the dead body. Darby turned and saw Evan raising the gun. She swung the door shut as he fired, blowing a chunk out of the door. It had a push-button lock, oh thank you God. Darby pounded it shut with her fist.

Carol was staring at the dead woman. Darby gripped Carol by the shoulders, turned her around and moved her to the hole. Evan tried to open the door but couldn’t. He was locked out.

‘Go through,’ Darby said.

Carol wiggled her way through the jagged opening and got stuck. Darby pushed her through as Evan kicked the door, THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.

Darby got down on her knees again, whispering to Carol kneeling on the other side: ‘Bang the doors like we’re ru

‘You promised you wouldn’t leave me –’

A gunshot blew another hole through the door.

‘Run, Carol. Run.’

Darby stood, almost slipping in the blood. The room was dark, but she could see Evan’s black-gloved hand reaching through the hole. Carol slammed doors open and shut. Darby pressed her back against the wall. She felt blood sliding down her neck. She touched her cheek, felt the deep gash and the bone. The eye above it was swollen shut.

Evan found the doorknob, turned it and opened the door.

He came through holding the gun. Darby gripped the bone with both hands and sunk the jagged end deep into Evan’s stomach.

Beneath the mask a scream of pain, and Darby tore the bone free and stabbed him again in the stomach. Evan tried to bring the gun around and she stabbed him again. He fired the gun next to her ear, the sound deafening, and when he grabbed her hair she brought up the bone’s jagged end and sunk it deep into Evan’s throat.

He dropped the gun as he grabbed the bone with both hands. Darby pushed him back into the other room. His gun was lying on the floor – a nine-millimeter Glock, his FBI-issued sidearm. She picked it up, swung the door shut and locked it.

‘Carol, stay where you are,’ Darby said. Then, louder: ‘I’m with the police. If there’s anyone else in here, stay where you are until I tell you to come out.’

Darby threw the door open and raised the Glock.

Evan was staggering around the small room, the spiked end of the femur sticking out of his neck. He was trying to control the blood pouring out of his stomach. He was bleeding out. Let him bleed.

Evan saw her and went to pick up the axe.

‘Don’t do it.’

He brought the axe up over his head. Darby fired and blew a hole through his stomach.