“That’s okay. We’ll figure out a way to get you down soon,” Kit said, already hurrying away from the winch, slinging the rifle onto his back. “First I have to help Alex.”

“Kit, wait!” Alex yelled.

Kit had just stepped onto the sandbags and halted, looking at Alex in puzzlement. “I watched him twice,” he said. “Besides, I’m good at this sort of thing.”

He moved calmly until he reached the middle of the ring. There, he hesitated, as if undecided.

Alex found himself clenching his teeth.

Kit pulled the tortoise out of his pocket.

“Oh God-” Alex groaned. He bit back any further protest against having their fates decided by a stone tortoise. He saw Kit look up into the darkness above them, his lips moving silently, as if in prayer.

He looked back down, and with a look of determination, took another step.

Nothing happened.

They both exhaled loudly. Kit seemed more confident then, and within a few steps had reached Alex.

Ignoring the trickle of blood from the wound on his back that now dripped down his arms and from his fingertips, Alex called out, “Spooky? Is there a window in that room, or anywhere above it?”

“Yes. It’s kind of long and skinny.”

“Could Kit fit through it?”

“I think so.”

“Try to break it out.”

Kit was cutting him loose now, supporting his weight in much the same way he had supported Kit’s in the woods. The relief to Alex was immediate-although there was still strain on his ankles, they were no longer bearing all his weight.

“I’m sorry I had to let him do this to you,” Kit said, “but-”

“No, it was smart. I understand.”

He knew that Kit didn’t want to reveal his presence until he had some idea of what had become of Meghan. Neither of them said what Alex knew they both feared-that the gunshot they had all heard was Meghan’s execution.

Just as Kit lowered him to the concrete, they heard a chime.

“Shit,” Alex said.

55

Malibu, California

Thursday, May 22, 9:27 P.M.

Everett discovered Ciara’s body near the baseball field. He felt relief. It wasn’t merely that he hadn’t much liked working with Ciara. For the last few minutes, he had been sure that Meghan was dead. He would prefer Meghan alive. He had plans for her.

He looked back at the tower, rising in the darkness. He could go back and spend more time tormenting Alex Brandon. But he hadn’t especially enjoyed that. He missed having Cameron to appreciate it, but worse, the explosives were distracting. He felt rushed. That wasn’t the way it should be. You had to be able to savor it.

He looked at his watch. Almost half the time gone.

He could look around in the dark for Meghan. She would be armed. She might be aiming a weapon at him right now.

He crouched down and moved closer to the buildings. Where would she be?

Everett looked toward the dark woods beyond the baseball field and suddenly realized he was alone.

Morgan. Frederick. Cameron. None of them could help him now. Not even Ciara.

The prospect of hunting in the dark seemed less and less appealing. In all likelihood, Meghan was going for help. His wonderful escape plans might come to naught. Should he take Alex Brandon as a hostage?

He glanced nervously at the tower. No. He had devised the timer, but Cameron had helped with the explosives. Everett, who was inexperienced with explosives, thought they might have overdone it. He could probably get Brandon out of there, but would they be far enough away when the tower blew up?

He began walking quickly toward the office. He decided he’d take a few precautions, then grab his keys and head for the driveway at the front of the school. One of the vans was parked there, packed with his luggage and all the false paperwork he would need. The jet was waiting.

At least after tonight, he would be able to stop riding around in vans. He longed to get back behind the wheel of his Testarossa, parked in the garage at the house, but that would have to wait, too.

He began walking faster. He thought of the stupid screams Ciara had broadcast over the loudspeaker. And there had been gunfire. The sheriff’s department might already be on the way to investigate. After all, Kit’s home, just at the top of the cliffs, had experienced soldiers patrolling outdoors, on every part of the grounds. They were probably calling 911 right now.

He suddenly remembered that Ciara had been carrying Alex Brandon’s cell phone. Did Meghan have it now?

He began to run.

56

Malibu, California

Thursday, May 22, 9:27 P.M.

“How many of them are in there now?” Alex asked, looking toward the timer.

“Four. Almost half. But the time between each is decreasing.”

His feet were completely numb, his legs useless, but he managed to move to a sitting position. Alex’s legs and feet prickled with the burning needlelike sensation of returning circulation. As soon as he was able, he stood. “Let’s get Chase and Spooky out of here.”

“There’s a huge gap between them and the next platform. I haven’t been able to figure out how to get them down.”

“We don’t want to bring them down inside the tower,” Alex said. “You and I need to go up. I think we can do it, even if I can’t get out of these cuffs. If not, I’ll have to try to teach you how to climb up to them.”

He grabbed hold of one of the bell ropes. Seeing Kit’s glance, he said, “We may need it.”

Kit took hold of the other one. “A backup then. He planned to tie each of us to one of these?”

“Yes. The rappelling rope was just a way to get us in position.”

They moved with urgency now and made their way back across the sandbags, Alex following Kit’s steps. Once on solid ground, they anchored the bell ropes to the stair rail. Alex ran to the winch and turned it on, reeling the rappelling rope in. He then hurriedly gathered the rope off the winch, making a coil.

Kit searched for something to use to break him out of the cuffs. He paused by the timer. He studied it briefly, looking for a way to disconnect it. “It will make connection after connection to complete the circuit,” he said to Alex. “I can’t think of a way to stop it. If I stop the clock itself, it may release all the balls at once and open all the gates to the connectors.”

There was a loud banging at the door. They froze, then Kit readied the rifle. Then they heard Meghan’s voice calling, “Alex? Alex, can you hear me? It’s Meghan and Gabe.”

“Meghan?” Kit called back, running to the door.

“Oh, God, Kit! We heard gunfire, and thought…”

“We thought the same thing. Listen-Everett has this whole place rigged with explosives. You’ve got to get out of here now. Gabe? Please, take her away from here, and I’ll-”

“No way,” Meghan said. “Everett just drove off-we’ve got to try to get you out of there.”

Alex said, “Meghan, can you get Ciara’s keys? I need to get out of these cuffs.”

“I have them,” Gabe called to them. There was a thin gap at the bottom of the door, and they saw the handcuff key come through it.

“Any way to bust the lock off this door, Gabe?” Kit asked as he picked it up.

“I’ll try, but it doesn’t look good.”

Kit quickly freed Alex, who finished coiling the rappelling rope and placed it over his shoulder. As he worked he called to Meghan and Gabe, “Get my gear from the trunk of the car. Bring it to just below the broken window. And if you can find a phone, call nine one one. Tell them about the explosives. Use the loudspeaker system to yell to the neighbors if you have to.”

They heard glass breaking, then a victory cry. “She did it!” Chase called. “She kicked it out!”

“Great!” Alex said, relieved to hear Chase’s voice again. He was already on his way up the stairs, bringing the ends of the bell ropes and the rappelling rope with him. At the highest platform he could reach, he tested his weight on the nearer bell rope. It creaked but held. He looped and knotted it around the railing as Kit raced up to join him.