Violets Are Blue

pick out Jamilla’s shape, her walk. Was she among them? Was she alive? My heart felt heavy in my chest. I couldn’t spot her from way up here.
    “Everybody move.
Now
,” Kyle spoke into his radio. “Go. Go!”
    The black-robed figures continued to move toward the waiting trucks and vans.
    One of the hostages suddenly dropped to the ground — only one.
    “That’s her,” I called out.
    “Take out the one over her!” Kyle ordered.
    A shot rang out from one of the snipers. A hooded figure slumped over in a heap.
    We charged forward, running down the steep hill toward the ranch. Some of the hooded figures fired shots at us. No one was hit. The FBI agents didn’t return fire yet.
    Then gunfire rang out from the hills. Some of the robed figures dropped to the ground, dead or wounded. A few put their hands above their heads in surrender.
    I kept my eyes fixed on the robed figure I thought was Jamilla. She had stood up again but was stumbling, almost falling. Then the hood was pulled back, and I could tell it was Jamilla. She looked up into the hills. She put her hands up high.
    I started to sprint. I was looking for the brothers. And the Sire.
    I moved toward Jamilla. She was massaging her wrist. She was also shivering, and I gave her my jacket. “You okay?”
    “Not sure. They hung me from a beam, Alex. What an unbelievable scene. You can’t imagine. I thought I was dead.” There were tears in her eyes.
    “Where’s the Sire?” I asked.
    “Maybe still inside. I think there’s another way out of there.”
    “Stay right here. I’ll take a look.”
    She shook her head. “No, not on your life. This is payback. I’m coming with you.”

Chapter 88

    JAMILLA AND I searched the main ranch house, then we checked a large unattached bunkhouse. We didn’t find anyone there, not a straggler, not William or Michael Alexander. And not the mysterious Sire. Jamilla was still shivering some, but she refused to turn back.
    “You’re sure the brothers weren’t out front with the others?” she asked. “Two blonds? Ponytails?”
    “If they are, Kyle has them by now. I don’t think so. Let’s check the smaller shack. You know what’s in there?”
    She shook her head. “I didn’t get the grand tour when I arrived. Just straight to the dungeon. Then they left me hanging, so to speak.”
    I threw open the door of the shack and saw heaters and a water pump. The room smelled strongly of urine. A mouse scooted into a hole in the wall. I winced and shook my head at what I saw next. Two bodies lay sprawled and spread-eagled against the far wall. They were teenagers, males. Both were naked except for a few face and chest rings.
    I bent over them and took a closer look. “Look like street kids to me. The blood’s been drained from the bodies.” There were bite marks — not just on the necks but on the faces and limbs. The skin of both was as pale as alabaster.
    I looked away from the clouded eyes that stared up at me. There was nothing we could do for them now. I noticed a reddish-brown hatch cover among the dusty machines that provided water, heat, and probably air-conditioning to the ranch.
    I moved across the room, bent down low to get a better look. The cover was loose, so I was able to pull it off.
    Darkness. Silence. What else was down there? Who else?
    I looked at Jamilla, then I shone a flashlight into the hole. The hole was wide enough for someone to get down inside. I saw metal stairs. A tunnel.
    Then I saw footprints in the dirt below. Several pairs.
    “Go tell Kyle.” I turned to Jamilla. “Get some help.”
    Jamilla was already heading out the door. She started to run. I stared down into the abyss and wondered if anybody was looking back at me.

Chapter 89

    I WAITED as long as I could, then I lowered myself slowly into the black hole. I fit easily and started to climb down the sturdy metal ladder.
    There were several steps, steep and precarious. I pointed the flashlight around. I could make out a dirt floor, corrugated tin walls. The ceiling bulbs had been broken. A narrow tunnel stretched out before me.
    I didn’t hear any sounds up ahead, so I began to make my way down the tunnel. I moved slowly and carefully. I had the flashlight in one hand, my Glock in the other. I kept looking back for Kyle and Jamilla. Where were they?
    I saw a discarded carcass a short way down the tunnel. I took a breath, focused my light on it.
    A single eye stared back.
    What I was looking at had been a small deer. Only