The Chemist Part 27

"I... well, I never used to. I mean, I always believed in attraction at first sight. I've experienced that. And that's definitely a part of what's happening for me now." He grinned again. "But love at first sight? Just fantasy, I was sure."

"Of course it is."

"Except..."

"There's no except, Daniel."

"Except that something happened to me on that train, something totally outside of my experience or ability to explain."

She didn't know what to say. She glanced at the TV just as the newscast's ending theme began to play.

That caught Daniel's attention, too. "Did we miss it?"

"No, it didn't run."

"And that's not a good thing," he a.s.sumed, an edge creeping into his voice.

"I can think of a couple different things it could mean. One, they pushed the story out, and when it didn't get results, they had to let it die. Two, the story is about to change."

Daniel's shoulders squared defensively. "How soon do you think we'll see the next version?"

"Very soon, if that's what's happening."

There was a third possibility, but she wasn't ready to say it aloud. The story would definitely disappear if they'd gotten what they needed from it. If they had Kevin now.

She thought she understood enough about Kevin's character to be fairly certain that he wouldn't give them up easily. He was smart enough to go with the most believable version of the story if the department caught him: He'd been too late to save Daniel, and-after killing the Oleander-he'd gone to DC for revenge. He'd be able to stick to that story for a while... she hoped. She didn't know who they had doing interrogations now. If that person was any good-well, eventually Kevin would tell the truth. As much as she wasn't Kevin's biggest fan, she felt sick for him now.

Of course, he could have been prepared for capture, the way she would have been. He could be dead already.

Batcave or no Batcave, if Kevin didn't call by midnight, it would be time to leave. She could feel when she was pus.h.i.+ng her luck.

Well, all the happy feelings had subsided. At least that was a sign that she wasn't totally crazy. Yet.

They shooed the dogs out onto the porch before Arnie was due to come back, though the animal smell would probably give them away regardless. Daniel started a meat sauce for spaghetti, and she helped with the simple parts-opening cans, measuring spices. It was effortless and companionable working side by side, like they'd been doing this for years. Was that the feeling Daniel was talking about? The strange ease of their togetherness? Though she didn't believe his theory, she had to admit to herself that she had no explanation of her own.

Daniel hummed as he worked, a familiar-sounding tune that she couldn't place at first. She caught herself humming along a few minutes later. Without seeming to realize he was doing it, Daniel started to sing the words.

" 'Guilty feet have got no rhythm,'" he sang.

"Isn't that song older than you are?" she asked after a moment.

He seemed surprised. "Oh, was I singing that out loud? Sorry, I tend to do that when I cook if I don't keep a strict hold on myself."

"How do you even know the words?"

"I'll have you know that to this day, 'Careless Whisper' remains a very popular song on the karaoke circuit. I kill it on eighties night."

"You're into karaoke?"

"Hey, who says schoolteachers don't know how to party?" He stepped away from the stove, sauce-covered spoon still in his right hand, and pulled her into a loose embrace with his left. He danced her once around a small circle, pressing his rough cheek against hers, while singing, " 'Pain is ah-all you'll find...'" Then he turned back to the stove, dancing in place while he sang cheerfully about how he was never going to dance again.

Don't be an idiot, her mind told her as the goofy smile stretched across her face again.

Shut up, her body responded.

Daniel didn't have a voice that belonged on the air, but it was a pleasant, light tenor, and he made up for any deficiencies with his enthusiasm. By the time they heard the dogs greet Arnie at the door, they were in the middle of a pa.s.sionate duet of "Total Eclipse of the Heart." Alex quit singing immediately, her face flus.h.i.+ng, but Daniel seemed oblivious both to her cowardice and to Arnie's entrance.

" 'I really need you tonight!'" he belted out as Arnie came through the door, shaking his head. It made Alex wonder if Kevin was ever any fun or if it was just business all the time when he and Arnie were here alone.

Arnie didn't comment, just shut the screen door behind him, letting the fresh warm air mix with the smells of garlic, onion, and tomato. Now that it was dark outside and light inside, she'd have to make sure he closed the exterior door before she or Daniel went into the part of the room that would be visible to anyone watching.

"Anything from the dogs?" she asked Arnie.

"Nope. You would have heard them if they'd found anything."

She frowned. "The story didn't run."

Alex and Arnie exchanged a look. Arnie's eyes cut to Daniel's back, then returned to her. She knew what he was asking, and she shook her head no. No, she hadn't talked to Daniel about Kevin and what his silence could mean. Arnie's eyes did that subtle tightening thing that seemed to be his only physical tell for stress.

For Arnie's sake, they'd have to get out as soon as possible. If anyone connected Daniel and Alex to this house, it would put Arnie in danger. She hoped he would understand about the truck.

Dinner was subdued. Even Daniel seemed to catch the mood. She decided she would tell him her fears about Kevin as soon as they were alone. It would be nice to allow him one more night of decent sleep, but they should probably leave before first light.

After they were finished-and not a noodle had survived; Arnie would miss this part of having houseguests, at least-she helped clear while Arnie went to turn on the news. The story lineup was repet.i.tively familiar. She felt like she could recite along with the anchorwoman word for word. Arnie hadn't already watched three rounds today; he settled into the couch.

Alex rinsed the plates and handed them to Daniel to load. One of the dogs whined through the screen door; probably Lola. Alex hoped she hadn't spoiled them too much this afternoon. She'd never thought she was a dog person, but she realized she was going to miss the warm and friendly inclusion of the pack. Maybe someday-if Kevin was somehow still alive and well and the plan was operable after all-she might get herself a dog. If all the happy thoughts were real, maybe Kevin would even sell her Lola. It probably wasn't a practical- A low, fast thud interrupted her thoughts-it was a sound that didn't belong. Even as her eyes were moving toward Daniel, looking for a dropped utensil or a slammed cupboard that would explain the noise, her mind was leaping ahead. Before her body had realigned with her brain, a huge baying cry erupted from the porch, along with a vicious growling. Another thud, quieter beside the hullabaloo of the dogs, and the baying broke off into a shocked and pained yelp.

She tackled Daniel to the ground while he was still turning toward the door. He outweighed her by a lot, but he was off balance and went down easy.

"Shhh," she hissed fiercely in his ear, then she crawled over him to the edge of the island and peered around. She couldn't see Arnie. She looked at the screen door-a small round hole was torn through the center of the top panel. She tried to listen over the sound of the dogs and the TV, but she couldn't hear any sound from where Arnie should be.

It had to be a distance shot or the dogs would have seen it coming.

"Arnie!" she hoa.r.s.ely whisper-shouted.

There was no response.

She slithered to the dining-room table, where her backpack was propped against the leg of the chair she'd used. She ripped her PPK out of its Ziploc bag, then slid it across the floor to Daniel. She needed both hands.

Daniel snagged the gun when it was halfway to the island and leaned around the edge. He hadn't practiced with a handgun, but at this distance that wouldn't matter terribly much.

She shoved her rings on and flung the belt around her waist.

Daniel was on his feet in a fraction of a second, bracing his elbows on top of the counter. He didn't look at all conflicted about his ability to fire. She scuttled to the nearby wall where the dining room jutted out from the great room. As she moved, she saw a hand shoving the handle down-but it wasn't a hand. It was a black furry paw.

So Kevin had chosen not to go with the standard round doork.n.o.b for more reasons than aesthetics.

She breathed again as Einstein burst into the room, Khan and the Rottweiler close on his heels. She could hear Lola panting pained cries outside, and her teeth ground together.

While the dogs congregated silently around Daniel, forming a furry s.h.i.+eld, she got her fighting shoes on and shoved the garrote wire into one pocket, the wooden handles into the other.

"Give the command," she whispered to Daniel.

The shooter would be running in now, though he would have to be on the lookout for the dogs. If he had the option, he'd switch the distance rifle for something that made bigger holes. Dogs like these would keep coming through a lot of hurt.

"Escape protocol?" Daniel whispered uncertainly.

Einstein's ears quivered. He gave a quiet cough of a bark, then trotted to the far end of the kitchen and whined.

"Follow him," Alex instructed Daniel. She darted across the s.p.a.ce between the wall and the island, keeping herself in a low crouch.

Daniel started to straighten, but before she could say anything, Einstein hurtled over and caught Daniel's hand in his mouth. He yanked Daniel back to the ground.

"Keep low," she translated in a whisper.

Einstein led them toward the laundry room, as Alex had expected, with Khan and the Rottweiler bringing up the rear. As she ducked from the great room to the darkened hallway, she tried to see Arnie. She could see only one hand at first, unmoving, but then she spied splatter against the far wall. It was obvious that there was brain matter mixed in with the blood. So there was no point in trying to drag him with them. It was too late for Arnie. And the shooter was obviously a marksman. The good news just kept coming.

Alex was surprised when Einstein stopped short of the laundry room and pawed at a closet in the hall. Daniel pulled the door open, and Einstein jumped past him and tugged at something inside. Alex crept closer just as a weighty pile of fur fell out on top of her.

"What is this?" Daniel breathed in her ear.

She felt her way through the pile. "I think it's a fur coat-but there's something else. It's too heavy..." She ran her hands quickly over the coat, along the sleeves; there was something stiff and rectangular under the fur. She stuck her hand inside the sleeve, trying to understand what she was examining. Finally, her fingers made sense of it. She wasn't sure she would have put it together if she hadn't recently cut Kevin out of a Batsuit.

Einstein pulled another dense bulk of fur down on them.

"They're lined in Kevlar," she whispered.

"We should put them on."

Alex struggled into hers as she worked through it in her head. The Kevlar made sense, but why the c.u.mbersome fur? Had Kevin trained the dogs during cold weather? Was this just preparation for the elements? Did it even get that cold here? But as she yanked up the arms-too long, of course-to free her hands, she saw how Daniel's coat was blending into Einstein's fur so that she couldn't see where one stopped and the other began. Camouflage.

The coat even had a Kevlar-lined hood, which she pulled over her head. Now she and Daniel were just two more furry shapes in the darkness.

Einstein went directly through the doggie door at the far end of the laundry room, and Daniel went right after. She could feel Khan's heat close behind her. She got through the door and saw Einstein pulling Daniel back down as he tried to rise into a crouch.

"Crawl," she explained.

It was frustratingly slow; the coat got heavier and hotter with every foot she gained, and the gravel was like knifepoints under her palms and knees. Once they got onto the stubbly gra.s.s, it was a little less painful, but she was so impatient with the pace that she barely noticed. She worried, as Einstein led them toward the outbuilding where the dogs lived, that he was trying to take them to the truck that she'd instructed Arnie to move. But the truck wasn't such a great escape. The shooter might be holding his position, just waiting for someone to try to drive out on the only road. Or this could be a new variation, where the shooter had friends to sweep the house and flush his victims out while he waited.

She could hear the restive dogs penned in the outbuilding ahead, none of them happy with what was happening. They'd made it three-fourths of the way when another sharp thud kicked a cloud of dirt into her face. Einstein barked sharply, and Alex heard one of the dogs behind her thunder off from their little pack, growling in a low ba.s.s. The heavy sound of his paws combined with his compact stride made her sure it must be the Rottweiler. Another thud, farther out, but the growling didn't change tempo. She heard something, maybe a m.u.f.fled curse, and then a hail of bullets rattled out from what was most definitely not a sniper rifle. Her muscles tensed, even as she crawled as quickly as she could in Daniel's wake, waiting for the inevitable sound of the Rottweiler's yelps. The sound didn't come, but the growling vanished. Tears p.r.i.c.ked her eyes.

Khan moved into position at her side-the shooter's side-and she saw Einstein was providing the same protection to Daniel. Kevin had said the dogs would give their lives for Daniel, and they were proving it. It would probably irk Kevin to know they were doing the same for her.

Kevin. Well, the odds were now better that he was alive. The news broadcasts hadn't cut off because the Agency had found Kevin but because they'd successfully located Daniel.

They made the outbuilding. She crawled gratefully into the obscuring dark. The dogs inside were whining and barking anxiously. Fighting the heavy ma.s.s of the lined coat, she struggled to her feet, still bent over but able to move faster. Daniel copied her, keeping an eye on Einstein to see if he would insist they get back down. Einstein wasn't paying attention to Daniel at the moment, though. Both he and Khan were doing a stuttering race down the line of kennels, stopping at each door and then bounding to the next. At first she wasn't sure if she was supposed to run, too, but then she realized what they were doing. The closest kennels swung open, then the following set. Kevin had taught his prize pupils how to open the kennels from the outside.

The freed dogs were immediately silent. The first pair was a matched set of standard German shepherds. The two dogs raced out the barn door, heading north. Before they were out of sight, three Rottweilers sprinted past her toward the south. A lone Doberman followed, then a quartet of German shepherds, each group heading in a different direction. The dogs started flooding out of the building so quickly that she lost count entirely. Easily more than thirty animals, though some of them were still very young. Part of her wanted to cheer, Tear 'em up, boys! while the other part wanted to tell them, Be careful! She saw Lola's pups run past, and her eyes teared again.

In the dark night, someone shouted in panic. Gunfire, then screaming. A tight, mirthless smile stretched her lips.

But it wasn't entirely good news. She heard shots from another direction. Definitely multiple attackers.

"Gun?" she whispered to Daniel. He nodded and pulled it out from the waist of his jeans. He offered it to her. She shook her head. She'd just wanted to know he hadn't dropped it. She was dripping sweat inside the thick fur. She pushed back the hood and wiped her forearm across her forehead.

"What now?" he murmured. "Are we supposed to wait here?"

She was just about to say that as an escape, this didn't quite answer, when Einstein was back, tugging Daniel down again. She got on her hands and knees and followed as Einstein led them out the door they'd come in. Khan was still there, bringing up the rear again. This time Einstein led them due north, though she didn't know of any additional structure that way. It was probably going to be a long crawl, she realized, and her hands were already deeply scratched from the dry stalks of gra.s.s. She tried to protect her palms with the cuffs of the coat's sleeves, but that part wasn't lined, so it only helped a little. At least there were too many furry shapes in the night for a shooter to bother with four that weren't attacking. She looked back toward the house in the distance. She didn't see any new lights on. They hadn't started clearing the house yet. The dog sounds continued, faraway growling, the baying of Lola's pups, and random staccato barks.

She lost track of time, only aware of the amount of sweat she was producing, the rasping sound of her panting, the fact that they'd been going slightly uphill the whole way and now Daniel was slowing some, and that her palms were being pierced again and again, despite the coat. But she didn't think they'd gone very far when Daniel gasped quietly and stopped. She crawled up beside him.

It was the fence. They'd reached the northern boundary of the ranch. She looked for Einstein, wondering what they were supposed to do next, and then she realized that Einstein was already on the other side. He looked at her, then pointed his nose down to the bottom edge of the fence. She felt her way along the place he indicated and found that the earth dropped away from the line of chain link; what she'd thought was a shadow was actually a narrow gorge of dark rock. The s.p.a.ce was easily big enough for her to slip through. She felt Daniel grab her ankle, using her for guidance. After they were both through, she turned to watch Khan struggle his way into the gorge. She winced, knowing the bottom edge of the chain link must be gouging into his skin. He didn't make any audible complaint.

They came out on top of a shallow, rocky ravine. It had been invisible from the house, hidden in the lee of the slight rise of land; she'd never guessed that there was any end to the flat plains stretching north toward Oklahoma. Einstein was already scrambling down the rocks. It looked like he might be on a faint, narrow path. Khan nudged her from behind.

"Let's go," she whispered.

She lifted herself into a low crouch and, when Einstein didn't object, started carefully down the slope. She could feel Daniel following closely. There did appear to be a path, though it could have been a game trail, too. There was a new sound in the darkness, a gentle whoos.h.i.+ng that it took her a few seconds to place. She hadn't realized the river came so close to the house.

It was only about fifteen feet to the bottom of the ravine, and when they reached it, Alex felt it was safe to straighten up. The water coursed quietly past them in the dark. She thought she could make out the far side; the river was much narrower here than it was by the barn. Einstein was yanking at something under a ledge, a place where the water had cut away the bank, leaving an overhanging shelf of stone. She went to help and was thrilled to see that it was a small rowboat. She thought she understood the protocol now.

"I will never say another bad word about your brother," she muttered rashly as she helped tow the boat from its hiding place. If Kevin was still alive-and if she and Daniel lived through the night-she would no doubt break that promise, but for now she was filled with grat.i.tude.

Daniel caught the other side of the boat and pushed. They had it in the water in seconds, the eddies swirling around their calves. Her coat trailed so much lower to the ground than his that the bottom edge was already in the river. The fur soaked up the water, getting heavier with each step. The current ran faster than the smooth surface implied, and they had their hands full hanging on to the boat while the dogs jumped in. Khan's weight lowered the stern of the boat dangerously close to the rippling water, so they both piled into the prow next to Einstein; first Alex while Daniel held the boat, and then he leaped in next to her. The boat took off like an arrow shot from a bow.

She threw off the hot, heavy coat. She'd never be able to swim in it, if that became necessary. Daniel followed suit quickly, whether because he'd thought of the same danger or just because he trusted her to do the right thing.

The strong current pushed them swiftly westward. Alex had to a.s.sume that this was part of the plan; Kevin hadn't left any oars. About ten minutes later, the water began to slow as it widened out around a broad bend. Her eyes had adjusted enough for her to make out what she thought was the far edge of the water. The current was pus.h.i.+ng them toward the south bank-the same bank they'd started off from. Einstein was anxious in the prow, his ears pointed sharply upward, his muscles stretched taut. She wasn't sure what he was watching for, but when they'd pa.s.sed some invisible boundary, he suddenly launched from the boat and into the water. It was deep enough that he had to swim, but she couldn't guess how far beneath his churning legs the bottom lay. He looked back at them and yelped.

Realizing it was probably a good idea to get out before Khan did, Alex jumped just a second later. The cool water closed briefly over her head before she surged back to the surface. She heard two splashes behind her-first a small one, then a huge one that sent a wave rolling over her head again. Khan swam past her, the water foaming white around his legs, and found his footing just a second before her toes scuffed against the sandy bottom. She turned to see Daniel fighting with the current as he tried to drag the wooden boat toward the bank. She knew she couldn't help him if she was in too deep, so she waded downriver and met him when he reached the shallows. She grabbed the prow, and he pulled from the middle, his hand wrapped around the bench. It didn't take long to get to the sh.o.r.e, where the dogs were shaking themselves off. They lugged the boat ten feet out of the water, then Daniel dropped it and looked at his hands. She did the same; the rough wood hadn't been kind to her already torn palms. They were bleeding freely now, drops of red trickling from the tips of her fingers.

Daniel wiped his right hand against his jeans, leaving a b.l.o.o.d.y streak, then reached back into the boat and retrieved the gun and something smaller-a phone; it must have been Kevin's. Daniel had had the good sense to keep both out of the water-impressive, given the shock and pressure they were both under. Luckily everything in her backpack was carefully Ziplocked.

She examined his face quickly. He didn't look like he was going to break down, but there might not be much warning.

Daniel grabbed the coats and held them awkwardly bundled in both arms. She was about to tell him to leave them, but then she realized that there was going to be a murder investigation in the near future. Better to hide what evidence they could.

"Put them in the river-the boat, too," she whispered. "We don't want anyone to find either."

Without hesitation, he hurried back to the edge of the water and dropped the coats into the current. Heavy as they were, it didn't take long for them to saturate and disappear under the surface. Alex started shoving the boat, and Daniel joined her, pulling it downhill. In seconds, it was racing off across the dark water. She knew it was marked with their blood and prints, but hopefully it would travel far enough tonight that no one would connect it with Kevin's house in the morning. The boat looked old and weathered, certainly not valuable. Perhaps the people who found it would consider it trash and treat it accordingly.

Alex imagined Kevin and Einstein on the red water in the daylight, running the route for practice. They must have tried it many times. Kevin would probably be upset about her losing his boat, regardless of the value.

She and Daniel turned back toward land together. The barn was easy to see, the only tall shape in the flat darkness. As they ran toward it, a solid square being suddenly reared up. Alex startled, expecting the dogs to react. Then her eyes made sense of the shape-it was one of the firing-range haystacks. She took a deep breath to settle herself and ran on.

They reached the barn and then raced around to the front doors. Daniel's longer legs got him there first, and he already had the lock free when she caught up to him. He yanked the door out of the way, waited for her and the dogs to get inside, then shut it behind them.

It was pitch-black.