Page 86 of No Safe Place

Shit. Had he gotten the bastard or not? He couldn’t tell. And where were the others?

He looked around, passing the crosshairs over the bridge, the water, the trees. Slowly and methodically, he scanned the entire area between the bridge and the burning factory. Then he did it again.

Dammit! He couldn’t see anyone.

A sense of terrible dread roared through him. That he was failing. That he already had failed.

Shaw refocused, stilled himself, breathed away the turmoil until he was an object at rest again.

He got off the scope and stood scanning the roof around him. Twenty feet to his right, the fire escape of the building faced out toward Route 4. He shouldered the rifle and began to run.

74

The leaves and tangled underbrush rustled loudly in the dark as we hurried along the steep forested west bank of the river south of the burning factory.

We were following a narrow deer trail in the woods that we had found about a quarter mile from where we had jumped down from the window. Mathias was ahead, leading us with Colleen behind him and me bringing up the rear.

When we heard the tremendous crashing of the crane behind us by the bridge, we were at first elated to hear that Mario had seemed to have accomplished his mission.

Then the loud sound of gunfire that sounded moments later ended that celebration abruptly.

Was Mario dead now? I thought.

I followed Colleen over the trunk of a fallen tree that was half-submerged in the water and then we all started jogging and then full-out running.

It didn’t matter. We didn’t know anything now and couldn’t find out. It was run-for-your-life time now.

The trail started up a steep hill and as we came down on its other side, we suddenly heard the sound of the waterfall. Then a structure of windswept brick, a kind of ruin, appeared on the dark track dead ahead.

It took me a moment to realize it was the old LOVE LIFE graffitied brick building I had seen on my run.

We stood looking at it as we caught our breath. It looked like a miniature version of the castle-like brick factory.

Then we stood looking up at the telephone pole beside it. As Mathias had said, it had little rusted iron climbing rungs stuck on each side of it. I turned to my right, tracking where its black phone cable bellied out across the moonlit river and falls.

The incredibly wide river and falls.

“Okay, then. We’re through the woods,” I said with a confidence I was hardly feeling. “Now for the over-the-river part.”

“There’s the truck. See?” Mathias said as he pointed across the river.

We turned and looked through the mostly bare October trees where a white panel truck was parked along Route 4.

“Awesome,” I said. “Now all we have to do is get to it. Let’s go.”

“That’s not possible, Mike,” Colleen said. “Cross hand over hand on a phone cable over a waterfall like we’re monkeys in the circus? Count me out.”

“I’ll go first,” Mathias said. “If it will hold me, Colleen, it will hold you.”

“Exactly,” I said, hurrying over to the pole. “Step in my hand, Mathias. I’ll give you a boost.”

75

Shaw arrived at the bridge to see that the crane was still on, its diesel engine steadily rumbling.

He came in closer to the operator’s cabin up atop its half-track crawlers, staring up at the shattered windshield.

“Shit,” he said when he came close enough to see the door of it was open and no one was inside. He climbed up and looked in for blood splatter but, even up close, there was nothing.

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