James PATTERSON - Cross Country

Next, I merged onto 95 and then Route 210 and followed it for nearly fifteen miles, which seemed much farther than that.

Eventually I found myself on 425.

His voice went low. “Let me tell you something that’s true. You are only coming to collect the bodies. You want the bodies, don’t you?”

“I want my family back,” I said. He only laughed at that.

I said little more to the Tiger unless he asked me a direct question, and he didn’t seem to care. Maybe he wanted to hear himself talk.

I needed to put the rational part of my mind in another place. So I listened to his threats, his cruel insults, but I just let them flow over me. It wasn’t hard, because I was numb anyway. I was here, but I wasn’t.

“PULL OFF THE road!” he commanded.

I did as I was told.

There didn’t seem to be any other vehicles around. I didn’t think I had passed anyone since I’d gotten onto Layloes Nick Road, somewhere in Maryland, around Nanjemoy.

But I wasn’t completely sure. How could I be?

I was that out of it. That nervous and afraid, that petrified.

“Take the next right. At the corner. Don’t miss the turn. You better hurry now! Hurry!”

I made the turn, then drove straight ahead, as I was told to do. The trees and bushes surrounding the road appeared black and very thick, possibly because my peripheral vision was narrowing in the dark.

Above me was a big sky filled with stars. I was reminded of Jannie, her love of the stars, but then I forced the sentimental thought out of my mind.

Nothing sentimental. Not now.

Maybe never again.

“Stop your motor, get out! Do exactly as I say!”

“That’s what I’m doing.”

“YOU SEE THE farm ahead? Come and get your family. You can collect the bodies now! I know you can’t believe it, but it’s true. They’re all dead, Dr. Cross. Come to the farm and see.”

My heart was floating as I started sweeping forward through tall grass and bushes toward the small farmhouse that was still a couple of hundred yards away. My legs and arms felt numb, like they were part of somebody else.

I tried to calm myself by taking slow, deep breaths. Then by not thinking at all. Finally, by gathering my hatred for the Tiger into a small, tight ball that could explode at the proper time.

“You remember how you found the Cox family in Georgetown? This is better,” he taunted me. “You made it happen, Detective.”

I wanted to tell the rabid monster that my family had done nothing to hurt anybody ever, but I kept it inside. I didn’t want to give him anything else. I couldn’t stop my brain from working that way, but I was trying to concentrate on the danger and the horrors ahead.

This had to be a trap, I told myself. Somebody wanted me here. They needed to find out what I knew about the war in Nigeria. It didn’t matter. I had to be here, no matter what.

“Are you ready, Detective?”

The last sound – his voice – wasn’t coming from the cell phone in my hand.

Then the Tiger stepped out from the bushes. “You ready for me?” he asked. “You want the mystery solved?”

“FINALLY, YOU LISTEN. Only it’s too late, fool,” the killer spoke in a loud, cocky voice as he moved toward me. Two young thugs were at his sides – Houston Rockets, and a blunt-faced boy who aimed a flashlight at my eyes.

“Where’s my family?” I said, staying on message as best I could under the circumstances.

“What difference does it make – one family? You make me laugh. All you pitiful Americans. Everyone laughs at you, all over the world.”

He pulled out a hunting knife and showed the long, thick blade to me. He didn’t say anything about the knife; he didn’t have to. I had seen what it could do at Ellie’s house.

“Where are they?” I asked again.

“You think you get to ask the questions? I can make you scream. Beg for death. Your life is nothing to us. We say ‘ye ye’ – ‘useless, worthless.’ Your family nothing. Ye ye. It means useless.”

The Tiger came up close and I could smell his sweat and the tobacco on his breath. He held the knife close to my throat.

“Say it ‘I am nothing.’ Say it! You want to know about your family?” he screamed in my face. “Say ‘I am nothing!’”

“I am nothing.”

He cut me, across the biceps. I didn’t look at my arm but I knew I was bleeding. I wouldn’t show him weakness. No matter what happened to me now.

“Flesh wound!” he said and laughed. His killer boys found it funny too, sick little bastards. I wanted to take all of them down.

He motioned with the knife. “You want to see your family so bad, come on. You can see what’s left. Ye ye!”

I STUMBLED FORWARD toward the deserted-looking farmhouse standing in shadowy darkness, and I wondered if Nana, Ali, and Jannie really were in there.

The closer I got, the less likely it seemed to me. I was afraid I had been living in denial all this time – for days now.

Suddenly I found it hard to walk, to stand, even, but I made myself go on, step by step, toward the dark farm that held secrets I maybe didn’t want to know.

There was a narrow dirt path winding up to the house and I trudged along a few paces in front of the Tiger and his killers. Were these the same bloodthirsty devils who had murdered Ellie’s family?

Was the one in the Houston Rockets shirt the bad lieutenant? Had he traveled back and forth from Africa with the Tiger? What was their connection with what was happening in Lagos and down in the Delta? Could a civil war become a world war? Was it starting in Africa this time?

Suddenly I was struck hard in the small of my back. I lurched forward, and almost went down, but somehow I kept my balance.

Then I whirled around and saw Houston Rockets holding the butt end of his rifle. He was going to hit me with it again.

“Stop right there!” I yelled. “You punk, you little coward.” I wanted to go after him so badly, to wring his neck and break it.

The Tiger laughed, either at me or at his vicious killer.

“No, no, Akeem! I want him conscious. Open the front door, Cross. You are the detective. You made it all the way here. Now you will see. Open the door! Solve the great mystery.”

I TURNED THE rusty knob, then pushed hard on the sticking wood-frame door. It opened with a loud whine.

At first I couldn’t see much, even with the faint glow from the flashlight held behind me.

“Where are they?” I asked.

“Go in an’ see,” said the Tiger. “You wanted this – proof of death.”

I walked into the house and still couldn’t see anyone in there. My heart was racing. Everything in the first room smelled of mildew, of dirt and age, maybe of death.

“I can’t see anything. It’s too dark.”

Suddenly a light went on. A living area was illuminated – two small sofas, easy chairs, standing lamps – but I still didn’t see anyone else in the room.

I whirled to look at the Tiger, who loomed behind me.

“Where are they?” I yelled. “There’s no one in here!”

“Tell me what you know,” he said, seeming serious and businesslike. “What did the she-bitch Adanne tell you? What do you know about the Delta? Tell me!”

I stared back at him. “Do you work for the CIA too? They wanted to know what Adanne told me.”

He laughed out loud. “I work for anybody who pays me. Tell me what you know!”

“I don’t know anything. I found out nothing in Africa. If I had, don’t you think I’d tell you? I saw you kill Adanne Tansi. That’s what I know, only what I saw with my own eyes.”