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“Please hurry!” He breathed, sneaking his left hand into his pocket to squeeze a piece of fire agate. His heart hammered in his ears as Nox searched and prayed that Nelson was alright. There was a tiny snap to his right and Nox spun, swinging the arm with the gun toward the sound.
“It’s me, Nox,” Nelson called as he appeared from the shadows.
“Thank gods!” Nox went to him and noticed that Nelson's steps were weaving and there were rips and tears on his pant legs and sleeves. “Are you okay?” He demanded as he scanned Nelson for wounds, but it was still too dark and fog was beginning to fill the pasture and the forest as the sun’s first rays lightened the sky. Nox could feel it through the dense, chilly dark, even if he couldn’t see it. He gathered the growing warmth to him as he pulled Nelson into his arms.
“Better now. We need to go,” Nelson said, holding onto Nox as they quickly made their way through the woods and back to the Continental.
It took longer to find their way down the crude, winding dirt road through the fog. Nelson looked haggard after his reconnaissance mission and the white-knuckle drive down the mountain so Nox insisted they pull over at the first truck stop. He ran into the convenience store for donuts and coffee while Nelson used the facilities to change his suit.
“I want Merlin to look at those wounds when we get back,” Nox warned Nelson. He was resting against the side of the Continental with Nelson’s coffee.
“No thank you,” he replied as he took it and sipped, then grunted appreciatively.
“Will you let me?” Nox asked. Nelson nodded so Nox plucked a paper bag off the car’s hood and handed it to him. “Then you can have a donut.”
Nelson chuckled softly as he fell against the car next to Nox and looked inside the bag. “Thank you.”
“You know, even under duress, you’re still polite,” Nox said with sincere awe. “I love that about you.” He laughed when Nelson frowned, looking adorably befuddled as he drank his coffee. “I don’t love how hard you were on yourself for losing your temper and getting frustrated, though. And you’re deeply disappointed because those girls weren’t there and you’re blaming yourself, aren’t you?”
Nelson hung his head and his nostrils flared. “I saw where they kept Elsa, but she was the only one. I didn’t see anyone else. I took a picture in case they figure out we were there and clear it out.”
“You’re sure they kept her in the barn and not in the trailer?” Nox asked, earning a jerky nod.
“The windows were boarded up, but the kitchen door was cracked. I got enough of a look to know they aren’t hiding six adult women in there. I could hear at least three adults sleeping but that’s already a crowd from the looks of things. It’s filled with…trash,” Nelson said with a shudder.
“Okay… And you’re sure they couldn’t have the girls hidden anywhere else in the barn?”
“No.” Nelson’s eyes glittered and his lip trembled as he looked at Nox. “There weren’t any other girls hidden in that barn,” he rasped.
“What happened? What did you see in there?” Nox asked and Nelson sniffed hard, giving himself a shake.
“Antlers, Nox. The whole barn is full of them. They’re all over the walls and hanging from the ceiling. She was bound to a post in the middle of the barn and surrounded by them, like giant thorns. It scared the hell out of me and I wasn’t drugged out of my mind like she was.”
“That poor girl,” Nox whispered as he imagined how terrifying that was for Elsa. “What do we do now?”
There was a hard sigh as Nelson ripped off a piece of donut and ate it, then licked the tips of his fingers clean. “We go home. Our missing girls aren’t here and the MacCrorys aren’t going anywhere. We’ll get the evidence we need and get a warrant after we find the girls. I don’t want to spook whoever has them.”
“Good thinking,” Nox said, checking his watch. “It’s a little after 6:00. I’ll let Tony know I’ll be a touch late so we can freshen up and I can look at your wounds before you take me to work.”
“Fine.” Nelson straightened and tossed what was left of his donut at a trash can, his color and his mood already improved. “With any luck, I’ll have tracked Adam Tipton down by the end of the day.”
Seventeen
The MacCrorys’ compound had provided Nelson with enough fuel for a thousand nightmares and had taken years off of his life, he was convinced. He’d been like a guided missile, locked on that barn as he slipped through the woods and the MacCrorys’ redneck obstacle course. He had spotted more bear traps and claymore mines had been hidden around the barn and Nelson suspected there were more in the pasture. It was a miracle Elsa hadn’t set one off during her escape.
Nelson had gone into that barn with high hopes, ready to sneak all six of the missing girls back to the Continental and to safety before the sun came up and the MacCrorys noticed they had been raided. In his head, he envisioned a quietly joyful rescue, but in reality, it had felt and sounded like a war zone for Nelson.
The slamming of his heart and the beating of the drums were like the roar of helicopter propellers, deafening Nelson and making his brain throb behind his eyes. The queasy sourness in his stomach became a constant, itching acidic burn at the back of his throat. He was shaking so hard, his hands sweating so bad, Nelson was afraid he’d drop his Glock or that his finger would slip on the trigger and he’d alert the MacCrorys and all of New Castle to his trespassing.
Despite all the sound and fury, Nelson was optimistic and ready to bring those girls home when he slid one of the old barn doors open. All of his hopes were immediately dashed and Nelson’s horror nearly overcame him when he realized he was surrounded by antlers. The inside of the barn was like a taxidermy iron maiden as Nelson made his way along a narrow aisle, points of antlers scraping his sleeves and the legs of his trousers until he reached the middle of the barn.
The ground was littered with syringes, vials, and empty water bottles, and Nelson could smell urine and blood in the dusty darkness. He raised and aimed his phone with a trembling hand and Nelson fought back a howl when the flash went off and he saw the rusty nail and the scratch marks in the post.
He carefully backed out of the barn, not caring about warrants or due process as he stealthily circled the MacCrorys’ trailer, his trousers snagging on concertina blades as he made his way to the rickety back porch. Nelson was ready to grab Brian MacCrory by the throat and drag him out to the barn and demand answers, but the dog stopped him. The MacCrorys’ massive Rottweiler snored loudly on the sofa in the living room, oblivious as Nelson stood in the kitchen with his gun trained on the old boy’s head.
Nelson would have had to deal with the dog before he could deal with the MacCrorys. He quickly weighed the pros and cons of disturbing the peace, straining to hear what was happening in the house over the chaos in his head. Common sense told him he had enough for probable cause, based on the concertina wire, the symbol on the barn, the claymores, the family history, Brian being a league reader, and the burning of the boots. Nelson had good reason to believe the victims were inside and in danger so his ass was covered. There would be enough evidence in the barn and traces of Elsa in the pasture to connect the MacCrorys to her death. But they wouldn’t get to the other girls before Samhain. The MacCrorys wouldn’t cooperate, the New Castle sheriff’s department would close ranks to protect itself, and the FBI would be crawling up Nelson’s ass to document every detail of the raid to make sure the bureau’s ass was covered. Nelson saw all the red tape and roadblocks in the span of a few seconds and lowered his Glock as he backed out.
They didn’t have time for that and Nelson knew he wouldn’t pull the trigger. He couldn’t shoot a dog.
