Chris Mooney - The Missing

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 running away – bang them as loud as you can, okay? I'll join you in a minute.'

'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.

Evan slumped back against the wall. She kicked the axe away. He tried to get up, fell, kept trying until his arms went limp.

Behind the mask came a wet, sick, wheezing sound. He managed to say one word:

'Melanie.'

Darby ripped off the mask.

'Buried… She's buried…' Evan started choking on his blood.

'Where? Where is Mel buried?'

'Ask… your… mother.'

Darby felt the skin stretch tight across her face.

Evan smiled, and that was all.

Darby removed Evan's belt and unzipped his coveralls. She patted down the pockets and found a set of keys. She didn't find a cell phone, but she did find a small digital camera stuffed inside one of the pouches on the carpenter's belt. She slid the camera in her back pocket.

Hands slick with blood, she tried each key until she found the one that unlocked the padlocks on the doors. Darby drew in a breath and looked up at the dark ceiling.

'He's dead. He can't hurt you. Is there anyone else in here?'

No answer. The music kept playing.

'I have his keys. I can come help you. If you're there, call out to me.'

No answer. The music kept playing.

Darby went back for Carol. The teenager was hunkered against a dark corner in the hallway, rocking back and forth, in shock.

'It's over, Carol. Everything's okay. Here, take my hand. That's it, hold on tight, I'm going to pull you through… No, don't look at the floor, look at me. I'm going to take you out of here, but I want you to close your eyes until I tell you to open them, okay? Good. That's it, keep them closed. Only a few more steps. That's it. Don't look down. We're almost there. We're almost home.'

It seemed to take forever to find their way out of the maze.

Darby stood on the opposite end of the dungeon, in a corridor with four identical cages. She knew she was on the other side because this corridor had an extra steel door armed with four padlocks. She used the keys. It was the only time Carol let go of her hand.

A ladder bolted against the wall led up to a basement illuminated with soft light coming from an opened door on the far left, across from the stairs. Darby approached the door, Carol's hand gripped fiercely in her own.

Six video monitors were set up on top of an old desk. Each screen showed a prison cell in dark green color – night vision. Evan and Boyle had installed surveillance cameras equipped with night vision so they could watch their prisoners. All the cells were empty.

Evan's clothes were neatly folded on top of a table. His cell phone was lying on top of his wallet, along with his car keys.

Darby was about to head into the room with Carol when she spotted the various costumes draped over mannequins. The heads were covered in Halloween masks – some store bought, some homemade. Behind the mannequins was a Peg-Board-covered wall holding various weapons – knives, machetes, axes and spears.

'I want you to stand outside here for just a moment,' Darby said. 'Stand right here, okay? I'll be right back.'

Darby picked up the cell phone and keys and saw a locked door. One of the keys opened it. Inside she found a locked filing cabinet and a wall crammed full of pictures of the women who had been brought here. She tried the keys on the cabinet. None of them worked.

In some of the pictures, the women were smiling. In others, they were frightened. Mixed among them were horrible snapshots showing how they had been killed. Darby imagined Boyle and Evan standing in here, staring at the pictures as they put on their costumes, getting ready for the hunt.

Darby stared at all the faces until she couldn't bear to look at them anymore. She grabbed Carol's hand, grateful for its warmth, and headed up the basement steps into the first floor of the old house. The lights worked. No furniture, just cold and empty rooms full of decay. Several of the windows had been boarded up.

Darby opened the front door, hoping to find a street sign. There were no street lights out here, just darkness and a cold wind blowing across rolling, empty fields. The rundown farmhouse behind them was the only home out here.

Evan's car, she remembered, had a GPS unit. She found his car parked behind the farmhouse. Darby started the car and cranked up the heat.

Their location was on the GPS screen. Darby gave the 911 operator the address and requested more than one ambulance. She didn't know if any of the other women in the basement were still alive.