Memories of Tomorrow_Nameless by Dean Koontz

Author:Dean Koontz [Koontz, Dean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-12T00:00:00+00:00

11

The dead man lies in shadow and penumbral light. The lantern hisses softly. Stalagmites stand silent sentinel in a cavern that’s become a catacomb.

Nameless sweeps the way ahead with the beam of his flashlight.

At his rescuer’s side, the boy says, “Sometimes these bats fly through, like a gajillion of them, but they won’t hurt you.” He’s being brave because his scream, when Chilton Cutter was shot, embarrasses him. He is tired and hungry, but he insists on getting out of here on his feet.

Jamie carries the night-vision gear, and Nameless carries the boy’s suitcase, which Cutter packed to take on the run with them before he shotgunned his wife and in-laws.

Killing even a murderer is never exhilarating. In this case no less than others, death is still death—and solemn. However, there is usually a degree of satisfaction in surviving when the bad guy doesn’t. At the moment, that satisfaction eludes Nameless.

He thinks he knows why. Intuition tells him that although Cutter is dead, this isn’t over yet. The day wears a coat of many pockets, with another nasty surprise in one of them.

In the chamber with the waterfall, they stop so that Jamie can kneel by the pool and wash the blood off his face, out of his hair. He strips out of his spattered shirt and puts on another taken from the suitcase.

As the boy is buttoning the fresh shirt, Nameless says, “Was there anyone else?”

Jamie is puzzled. “Anyone else who?”

“Here in the caves. With Cutter.”

“Me.”

“Just you?”

“Yeah. Who else could there be?”

“I just wanted to be sure,” says Nameless.

The boy leaves his bloody shirt behind, and they ascend through the serpentine engineering of the long-melted glaciers, following the X marks made with motel soap on the gray stone walls, into the cavern where the Range Rover is parked, and then through the first cave. They part the curtain of Halliana and, at last, step into a day that lies expectant under a dark-gray glowering sky.

Part of the way up the slope on which the Lincoln is parked among hickory and hemlock and dogwood, the boy drops to his knees, exhausted. He is frightened by the prospect of remaining here alone even for a few minutes while his rescuer carries the suitcase to the SUV and returns for him.

In fact, Nameless is afraid to leave Jamie here. His sense of impending trouble has not abated.

The breeze has grown into a wind. The trees toss, and the sky is devoid of birds, which have fled to shelter.

He puts down the suitcase and carries the boy. Jamie clings to him and doesn’t want to let go when they reach the Lincoln.

The boy’s trust is endearing and resonates with Nameless on a deep level, as if this moment is reminiscent of another that is lost beyond the barrier of amnesia.

He opens the door with one hand, and the boy allows himself to be settled in the passenger seat.

After closing and locking the door, Nameless surveys the forest, but he can see nothing amiss.

When he returns with the suitcase and the night-vision gear, the boy has engaged his safety harness.

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