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Francesca nodded. Shelooked as worried as Amber felt right then.
“So we’re lookingfor a location somewhere near that.” Amber realized that another of the wordsprobablywas“near.” She had two of the words, but there were stillseveral words to go, and they were nowhere near to a precise location.
Amber took a deepbreath and forced herself to continue guessing. There were no “L”s in spite ofit being such a common letter. Amber winced. She was starting to feel thepressure of time knowing that the noose tightened with each letter. How manymore could she guess before it killed the victim? How many guesses did she daremake before she started to back away and look for locations that matched whatshe had?
Somewhere outthere, a victim was dying, and Amber needed to get this right.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dave Muldeer wokeslowly, his head feeling as though he was suffering the worst hangover he’dever had. He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious. He couldn’t remember wherehe was, or what had happened to him.
He was on hisknees, in a room where furniture stood covered in old sheets. There wassomething around his neck, something that felt like thick metal cable, toughand unyielding. The room was mostly dark, with the moonlight coming in throughthe window providing the only illumination.
Dave’s eyes slowlyadjusted to the dim light around him and he realized he was not alone. Acrossthe room, sitting in a chair, was a figure wearing a mask. Dave’s heart ratespiked at the sight of him. His situation had been terrifying before, butsomehow, the presence of someone else made it feel more real.
“Who are you?”Dave asked, his voice hoarse.
The figure in themask didn’t respond at first, instead just sitting there silently. Dave triedto move, but found his hands were tied behind his back. Panic set in as herealized he was completely helpless. He was at the mercy of this person,whoever they were.
“What do you want?”Dave asked, desperation creeping into his voice.
He tried to standup and managed it, barely, but his ankles were bound together, making itdifficult. He couldn’t run, couldn’t fight. And there was a cable around hisneck. One that seemed to lead up to a winch set above him. That cable tightenedslightly, even as he looked at it, making it clear what was going to happennext.
“This is yourchance to confess what you did,” the man in the mask said, speaking at last. “Theywant you to confess to what you did, before you die.”
Dave’s mind raced.Confess to what? He couldn’t think of anything he’d done that would warrantthis kind of punishment. Anything anyone could do that would make it just totreat them so cruelly.
“I don’t know whatyou’re talking about!” he yelled.
The masked figuredidn’t react, just sat there, silent and still once again. Dave felt a bead ofsweat trickle down his forehead. He couldn’t keep quiet anymore, he had to tryand reason with the person.
“Please, I swear Ihaven’t done anything wrong. You’ve got the wrong man. If you let me go, we canforget all about this. I won’t tell anyone.”
“Haven’t doneanything wrong?” the figure in the mask said. Dave could hear the anger therein his voice. There was something twisted, something insane, about that voice,so it almost didn’t sound human at all. “You worked on the WM 120. You helpedto design its brakes. You knew that they weren’t safe.”
“I thought thateverything was within acceptable tolerances!” Dave said. It was what thelawyers had coached him to say. He’d said it again and again, so many timesthat he almost believed it.
“You said that atone of the hearings, didn’t you?” the masked figure said. “It was what theypaid you to say. It meant that people never got real justice for what happened.It means that I have to continue listening to their voices, every second ofevery day!”
“Is that what thisis about?” Dave asked. “Did you lose someone? I thought the brakes were safe! Iswear!”
“No you didn’t,”the figure said. “Do you think they haven’t screamed at me for your part inthis?”
“I only worked onthe brakes briefly. I was just an assistant.”
“You still deserveto die for it.” There was no give there, no hope of mercy.
“And you’re goingto kill me? You’re nothing but a murderer!”
“An executioner,”the figure corrected him. “One who will never hurt as many people as you have.I’m not even the one who kills, not really. Unlike your victims, you get achance. The device above you is linked to a website, where even now, the policeare trying to guess your location. Maybe they’ll find you in time, and if theydo, they’ll know what you did. Or maybe they’ll kill you by guessing wrong too manytimes while they try to find you.”
Dave’s heart sankas the masked figure spoke, the little hope he’d had left leaching out of him.He was going to be killed, and all because of something he had no control over.He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, hoping that maybe this was all just anightmare, the result of his own troubled feelings about the court case.
But when he openedthem, the figure was still there, looming over him.
Desperately, Davelooked at the winch and the cable, assessing them with an engineer’s mind, tryingto find a way out of this. Maybe there was a way he could loosen them, so hecould break free. He struggled against the bonds that held him, but they had nogive in them at all.
“They all try toescape their fate,” the man in the mask said. “They all try to dodgeresponsibility for what they did. It only shows their guilt.”
