The last thing Carnie wanted to do was admit failure to her grandmother. As much as she despised the woman, she longed for her approval.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"I've got a big problem," said Carnie.

"What did you do?" said Sylvia, with disappointment in her voice.

"I got my clinic all set up, but then-"

"-Carnie! I told you that wouldn't work."

"I know, but-"

"-you should have just waited, like I told you. He would have come around in a couple of weeks. By then, he would have been missing Carsie so much he would have agreed to marry her right away."

"I don't think so..."

"Why not?" said Sylvia.

"I caught him with Macy tonight."

"Having s.e.x?"

"Pretty close. Her blouse was open and Elmo was kissing her b.o.o.bs," said Carnie.

"Oh, no."

"Yeah. So, see-your idea wasn't gonna work either."

"Shut up, Carnie. Let me think."

After ten seconds of silence, Carnie began to wonder if the call had been dropped.

"h.e.l.lo?" said Carnie.

"I've got plan."

"Good. What is it?"

"I'm coming over there."

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now. And don't do anything until I get there. You've already made a mess of things."

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm sorry." She wanted to stab Sylvia right through the heart with a dull knife.

"Yes, you aresorry. You always have been. You never do anything right."

Sylvia hung up.

Carnie thought for a few minutes, and then called her grandmother again.

"Carnie, why are you calling me back? I'm on my way."

"I forgot to tell you about the secret entrance in the barn."

"I know all about it, My Dear," said Sylvia, hanging up before her words had completely registered in Carnie's brain.

Greg and Cynthia walked into the barn and began to look around. The interior was faintly illuminated by a single light bulb hanging from the rafters. They saw the dark blue van and knew it must be the abduction vehicle.

They knew there was an underground corridor from the barn to the house, but they had not thought to ask Nurse Magdely for the exact location of the door to that secret pa.s.sageway. But the only interior door in sight was the tool shed door.

Greg used his shoulder to force the stubborn door open. Their flashlights found the other door inside almost immediately.

"This is creepy," whispered Cynthia.

Greg opened the door and they went through, and down the stairs as quietly as they could. There was just enough light in the corridor to see where they were stepping. Greg figured the light bulbs along the way to be no more than 25-watters.

Cynthia worried about spiders and snakes. She took shallow breaths, wondering what kind of damage the musty air might be inflicting on their lungs.

Cynthia tripped on the edge of a board and fell forward into Greg's back.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

He gave her a quick hug and then turned around and they began walking again. They could now see the light at the end of the corridor. Greg was expecting to hear people talking, but heard nothing.

Before they reached the opening, they could see Jake lying on a couch against the far wall. He appeared to be sleeping. But there was a pistol near his hand. They crept into the room and were surprised to see four women, handcuffed to their hospital beds.

Cynthia hoped they were only sleeping. She saw her mother and rushed to her side. She felt for a pulse. Yes-she was alive. She whispered into Beverly's ear, but got no response. These women are drugged, she thought.

Greg tiptoed toward Jake. If he could grab the gun without waking him up, he thought, then he could make him release the women and they could get away in the van. He was two feet from the couch when he heard something. It must be somebody coming down from inside the house, he thought.

Greg turned and looked at Cynthia. She had heard something too. He figured they would be seen if they tried to escape the way they came in, so he motioned for Cynthia to go off to the right, down the hallway. He had no idea what was down there, but it was the quickest hiding spot.

They ran fast, but softly, into the hallway just as Carnie opened the secret mirror door and walked in and started talking to Jake.

Greg and Cynthia had not been seen, but now they were worried the woman would walk to the other end of the room, where Beverly's bed was located. If she did, and then looked down their hallway, she would see them. And probably shoot them. Or stab them to death, like the poor woman in the parking lot.

Greg decided to take a big chance. They could hide in one of the two rooms off the hallway. But what if the door hinges were squeaky? He went for it anyway. It opened silently and they rushed in and closed the door.

The room was dark, so Greg turned on his flashlight. He planned to turn it off as soon as they-.

He stepped into a hole and fell down. Cynthia shined the flashlight across the floor and saw the big opening. A section of flooring had been pulled up and leaned against the wall, exposing the dirt underneath, and a long wooden box, mostly buried in the ground. They both prayed the noise had not been loud enough to alert the man with the gun and woman who had just joined him.

Carnie couldn't believe Jake had already fallen asleep. She picked up the gun. "Wake up!" She shook his shoulder violently.

"What?" He sat so quickly it made him dizzy.

"We've got a change in plans," said Carnie. "We don't need these women after all."

She walked over to Betsy and held the pistol to her sleeping head.

Jake jumped up. "What are you doing?"

"These women have seen our faces, Jake. What do you thinkI'm doing?"

"But you can't just murderthem."

"Why not?" she said in a flippant tone, as though she was about to squash a c.o.c.kroach under her shoe.

He hurried to where she was standing. "Don't be crazy, Carnie."

"Are you saying I'm crazy?" She swung around and pointed the gun at Jake's face.

"No, no. Of course not." He stepped back a little.

Carnie stepped toward him. "Then what areyou saying, Jake? That Carnie Slitherstone is a cold-blooded killer? Is that what you're saying, Jake?"

He was afraid to speak or to move.

"Well, you know what, Jake. I ama cold-blooded killer."

And Jake was now a cold-blooded believer.

She c.o.c.ked the pistol.

He cringed. He wasn't ready to die. Sure, he had killed a man-he was guilty of a hit and run. And he should have gone to the police and let them throw him in jail where he belonged, he thought. At least then he would have still been alive tomorrow.

She squeezed the trigger, and the gun clicked.

Jake opened his eyes in disbelief.

Carnie began to laugh at him. "You idiot. You really think I'd trust you with a loaded weapon?"

His testosterone suddenly revved up a rage in his belly and he lunged at her and her impotent gun.

But she took a quick step back whipped out a big knife.

Where did she get that? he wondered. She had seemingly pulled it out of thin air.

He struggled to catch himself and avoid the outstretched knife, and barely succeeded.

"Don't you evertry anything like thatagain," she hissed.

He raised his hands in humble surrender. "I'm sorry."

Greg and Cynthia were sitting on the floor, against the wall. They had turned off their flashlights to conserve the batteries.

"We should call the police," whispered Cynthia.

"But if they come knocking on the front door, these people might kill the women and make a run for it."

"Not if we warn them about it and have them sneak in through the back way, like we did."

"Yeah, I guess that might work."

Cynthia flipped opened her cell phone. "Never mind-I've got no signal."

Greg checked his phone. "Me either. We'll just have to wait until they go back to sleep. Then one of us can slip out and call the police."

"Well, I'm not stayingwithout you," she said. "And I'm sure not goingwithout you."

"But you'd only have to get to the barn. You'd have a signal out there."

Cynthia glared at him.

"Okay. We'll both go," he said.

Chapter32.

Greg checked his watch. It was 11:55 PM. He and Cynthia had been sitting in silence, waiting for the man and woman out in the hospital ward to leave or fall asleep. They had heard them yelling earlier, when the woman first came in. After that, there had been only occasional mumbling.

If the man or woman walked in on Greg and Cynthia, they would be caught. There was no place for them to hide in their empty room. And the only weapons they had were plastic flashlights.

"How long have we been sitting here?" said Cynthia.

"About 45 minutes."

"What do you think is in that box?"

"I don't know." Greg turned on his flashlight and walked to the front of the box.