Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
With her feet painful, ice-cold blocks at the ends of her legs, rifle held ready to fire, Hallie followed Girard out of the ATV shed and into the gathering dark, acutely aware of Rhodda following them.
They just needed to make it into the house, and the promised radio, without being seen.
Oh, and back out again. But that was a worry for later.
Right now, the goal was the house and perhaps the only working radio on Paradise.
The space between the outbuildings and the house stretched impossibly far in front of them and Hallie found herself almost tripping on Girard’s heels, trying to move faster.
He kept to a rapid, but steady, pace, taking time to look all around them, the muzzle of his own rifle following the direction of his gaze. Ready to act.
When they were a little more than halfway across the space, the first cry of alarm sounded. Hallie’s head whipped round, towards the corner of the house, and she saw Knot and No-knot, along with the other pair who’d joined them on patrol. Even as she looked, the men all raised their weapons.
“Run,” Girard said.
Hallie didn’t need to be told twice. She sprinted ahead as the first shots rang out, continuing her headlong run until she dived through the nearest open doorway, just behind Girard, Rhodda following them.
There was no time for more than a quick look around to make sure there were no other people in the room before she pressed herself against the wall next to the open door, in a space between the doorway and an unshuttered window, Girard on the other side, both of them with their weapons trained on the outside.
Hallie was vaguely aware of Rhodda moving to the other side of the room, but didn’t have time to check.
More shots sounded outside, more shouts, and then the sound of running feet coming closer.
“Where did they go?” someone asked, sounding breathless and worried. Possibly No-knot.
“Inside.” That was definitely Knot, voice clipped. “Jonah is going to be furious.”
“Will he punish us, do you think?” Definitely No-knot.
“Shut up, you two. He’ll be even madder if we don’t find them.” The third speaker was one Hallie didn’t recognise. “Go that way. We’ll go in here.”
There was no argument or grumbling, just the quiet tread of boots on a hard surface.
Walking now, not running. Approaching the doorway where Hallie and Girard were on watch.
She spared a glance across at Girard and saw him focused on the outside, ready to fire, crouched down in the shadows of the doorway, making himself a smaller target.
Then a shadow moved past the window she was standing beside and her finger tightened on the trigger.
Girard was facing the threat, but the men were on the other side of the wall at her side.
Girard fired. Single shots. Two of them. From the cut-off cry of alarm and the soft thuds, Hallie thought both his shots had found their target. From the tight expression on Girard’s face, she thought he’d been aiming to kill. It wasn’t something he took lightly.
There was another shout and more running feet. Knot and No-knot, if she had to guess. And another two shots from Girard. These ones missed, though, if the cries of outrage were anything to go by. She heard the sounds of boots moving away. Retreating.
Girard muttered a curse then glanced across at Hallie. “Anyone else around?” His face didn’t give much away, but she knew him. He’d done what he thought he had to, but would not have relished the killing.
She turned to the window and peered out into the night, and silently queried the zauber. “The last two headed around the corner of the house, out of sight, but they might be back and they may be able to call for back-up. There’s no one else here just now.”
“Right,” Girard agreed. He hesitated a fraction and Hallie could almost see the calculation in his mind.
Whether to leave the building and head into the forest or stay inside and try for the radio.
It didn’t take long for him to give a small nod, his mind made up.
“We should move. This isn’t a good position to defend. Rhodda, where’s that radio?”
“You killed them,” Rhodda whispered, her voice shaking. “Are you going to kill my son as well?”
“He had no choice,” Hallie told the other woman, giving in to the urge to shield Girard from the accusation, her own voice hard. “Neither of us wants to kill anyone, much less your son.”
“Hallie is right, as usual,” Girard said. He managed a much softer tone than Hallie. “The radio?”
“Front of the house. That way,” the other woman said, pointing with a shaking hand, sounding miserable. She wasn’t sure whether to believe them, Hallie guessed. There was no time to reassure her now, though.
Hallie looked across the room at her, for the first time realising that they were in a kitchen.
There were a couple of oil lanterns lit, turned down low, providing a soft glow against the gathering dark outside.
It was a big room, much of the floor space taken up by a large, plain table with nearly a dozen mismatched wooden chairs.
Rhodda was on the other side of the room, next to another doorway, which Hallie assumed led to the rest of the house.
“Take the lead,” Girard told Hallie. He thought the greatest threat was likely to come from outside, Hallie guessed, and was putting himself last to be the rear guard.
His aim was much better than hers, so she didn’t argue, just switched the rifle for the handgun - easier to manage at close-quarters - and headed across the room, aware of Girard moving after her.
The kitchen door led to a shadowed space that felt much larger than Hallie had anticipated.
She realised why when she took a few paces away from the door.
They were in what must have been the house’s grand entrance.
Or, rather, at the servants’ end of the entry way.
The deep shadows were provided by what was most likely a very impressive staircase rising over their heads.
Ahead of them, Hallie could see the outline of the curved doors at the front of the house, with dirty glass panels on either side letting in very little of the remaining daylight.
There would have been lanterns and a chandelier in this space when the house had first been built, but Jonah and his men had no such luxury.
In the gloom, Hallie could see two doors on each side of the staircase.
Moving on instinct, Hallie left the space under the stairs and headed for the nearest doorway, not surprised to find the room empty.
It had been intended for use by hochlen.
She could tell that much at once from the intricate moulding on the ceiling and around the doorway, but there was nothing of interest there now.
The second room was far more interesting.
It had been a library at one point, the built-in shelves still standing even though the books had long since gone.
Some of the shelves held stacks of papers as well as dust. There was a long, low sofa along one wall that looked as if it might be almost as old as the house and a huge, heavy wooden desk near the room’s double windows.
The surface of the desk was pitted and scarred from use in a way no hochlen would have tolerated, and held stacks of creased paper along with several glasses and plates of moulding food.
It seemed that Jonah didn’t believe in housekeeping.
Of more interest to Hallie was the small table at the side of the room that held what, to her eyes, was a far more sophisticated radio set than the one at Reunion.
She glanced at Girard and he nodded once to show he’d seen it.
Rhodda had paused in the doorway, eyes travelling around the room until they landed on the radio set. She made a low sound of pure anger. “It took us months of bartering and hard work to get our radio and its parts. And he’s been sitting up here with this set all along?”
“Assuming it works,” Girard said. “Hallie, watch the door, will you?”
“Yes.” Hallie moved to the doorway and silently asked the zauber to help.
They might be indoors just now, but she was cold from head to toe and her feet were sore enough to be distracting.
The magical object sent a gentle wave of warmth and healing through her even as she sensed it extending itself somehow to keep watch for anyone else around.
Rhodda moved across to join Girard at the radio and the two had what sounded like a low-voiced argument. Trying not to draw attention. Hallie tried to ignore them and focus on her job, and not think about the fact that Rhodda had a completely different agenda and set of priorities to Girard.
Then a shockingly loud voice cut into the room.
“This is the Conclave emergency channel. Unauthorised use will be punished. What’s your business?” The voice was all hochlen, carrying assurance and arrogance even through the slight crackle of the radio signal. It sounded both young and male.
“Special Investigator Girard Abbott with a message for Director Peredur Roth. Matter is urgent,” Girard said, voice clipped.
“Verify,” the voice snapped back.
“Indigo raptor seven seven six,” Girard replied, as if he’d been expecting the challenge. The words made no sense to Hallie, but they produced a startling change at the other end of the radio.
“Investigator Abbott, this is Jasper Clayton. It’s good to hear your voice, sir.
” The new voice was still hochlen, young and male, but had far less of the arrogance of the unidentified first speaker.
Hallie remembered meeting the young man - a junior investigator, whose brother was one of the forensic team.
“Likewise,” Girard said. “I don’t know how long I have on this channel. Advise Director Roth that there are armed hostiles on the island, and we need back-up asap.”
“Number of hostiles?” Jasper might be young, but he sounded sharp and attentive.