Running with the Demon - Terry Brooks [146]
“Hang on, Nest,” he whispered quietly.
He moved quickly down the road toward the black mouth of the caves. The river was a silver-tipped satin sheet on his left and the cliffs towered blackly above him on his right. His shoes crunched softly on gravel. In his mind, he saw again the look in Evelyn’s eyes, and a cold feeling reached down into his stomach. What did she know that she was hiding from him? He thought suddenly of Caitlin, falling from these same • cliffs more than a dozen years earlier to land on the rocks below, broken and lifeless. The image brought a bloodred heat to his eyes and the back of his throat. He could not stand it if he were to lose Nest, too. It would be the end of him — the end of Evelyn as well. It would be the end of everything.
He reached the entrance to the caves and flicked on the flashlight. The four-cell beam cut a bright swath through the darkness, reaching deep into the confines of the rock. He worked his way carefully forward, pausing to listen, hearing something almost immediately — a muffled sound, a movement. He scrambled ahead, plunging inside the caves now, swinging the flashlight’s beam left and right with frantic movements, searching the jagged terrain.
Then abruptly the light found her. He knew at once it was Nest, even though she was trussed up inside a gunnysack with only her ankles and feet showing. He scrambled forward, calling out to her, stumbling several times on the loose rock before he reached her.
“Nest, it’s me, Grandpa,” he said, breathing heavily, thinking, Thank God, thank God! He reached into his pants and brought out his pocketknife to cut away the tape and burlap from her ankles. When that was done and the sack was removed, he cut the tape from her hands as well. Then, as gently as he could, he pulled the last strip off her mouth.
Her arms came around him at once. “Grandpa, Grandpa,” she sobbed, shaking all over, tears running down her cheeks.
“It’s all right, Nest,” he whispered softly, stroking her hair the way he had when she was a little girl. “It’s all right, kiddo. You’re all right.”
Then he picked her up, cradling her in his big arms as he would a baby, and carried her back out into the night.
Jared Scott raced across the front lawn of his apartment building, dark hair flying, T-shirt laced with sweat. He caught a glimpse of the television screen through the curtained windows of his living room and knew his mother and George were inside. He picked up his pace, anxious to tell them what had happened, all about Nest and Danny Abbott and Mr. Freemark. He burst through the screen door already yelling.
“Mom, some guys kidnapped Nest and took her down to the caves, and we told Mr. Freemark to come help us...”
He drew up short at the living-room entrance, the words freezing in his throat. His mother lay on the couch with George Paulsen next to her. Most of their clothes were on the floor. There were beer cans everywhere.
His mother tried to cover herself with her arms, smiling weakly, ashen-faced as he stared at her.
“Jared, sweetie...”
Jared backed away, averting his eyes. “Sorry, Mom, I just...”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, you little bastard!” George roared, scrambling up from the couch, lurching toward him in fury.
“George, he didn’t mean anything!” His mother was trying to slip back into her blouse, her movements cumbersome and slow.
Jared tried to run, but he caught his foot on the carpet and slipped. George was on top of him instantly, hauling him back to his feet by his shirtfront, yelling at him, screaming at him. Jared tried to say he was sorry, tried to say something in his defense, but George was shaking him so hard