The man stood at the edge of the clearing. He was huge and hulking, but his face looked confused, and he resembled an overgrown child.
"What are you doing?" he said.
Diana was still on the ground, kneeling over the Foley girl's grave.
"I'm looking for my sister."
"Your sister?" The man looked confused. He pointed at the Foley girl. "Is she your sister?"
"No. My sister's name is Rachel. She disappeared five years ago. She was fifteen. Do you know her?"
The man still looked confused. "I didn't mean to kill that girl."
"Who? Rachel? Did you hurt Rachel?"
"That girl right there." He pointed again. It was difficult to see in the dark, but it appeared as though the man were starting to cry. He sniffled and wiped at his face with his giant hands. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I didn't want to. They were going to come and take me away and send me to jail. The cop came and I didn't mean to kill him, but he wanted to take the girl away, and then I knew he would take me."
Diana looked around and saw another grave on the far side of the clearing. Jason?
"You killed a police officer?"
"The clearing told me I had to."
His words gave Diana a chill. She wasn't the only one to be drawn by the place. It really did send out messages, except in his case, the messages led to deaths.
Diana stood up. She reached for and brought out the Glock.
"I used to be a police officer. You're going to have to talk to somebody about all this. You're going to have to answer for this. Put your hands on top of your head"
"No..."
"Put them up."
"No."
"Yes. If you need help, you'll get it. But we have to get out of here. Put your hands on top of your head now and turn around."
The man slowly did as he had been told. He brought his thick hands up and rested them on top of his head. While he did so, Diana reached into her coat pocket with her free hand and took out her cell phone. She flipped it open and scrolled to Dan's number with her thumb. She hit send, but before she could speak, the pain came back, an explosion in her skull. It knocked the air out of her, and she fell to her knees, dropping the phone.
"No!"
Her vision clouded and everything went dark.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
"Are we almost there?" Dan said.
To Ludwig, every tree and square foot of ground looked the same. He could have been tromping through the woods in Maine or California for all he knew. He was beginning to doubt himself.
"I'm not sure," he said. "To be honest, when I got close the last time, I felt something, a surge of adrenaline. Something I couldn't really explain logically, I suppose, but it came from the clearing and worked through me."
"Are you feeling that now?"
"No."
"So maybe we're in the wrong place?"
"I don't know..."
Berding's cell phone rang. He muttered a curse and dug into his pocket. While he fumbled with the device, Ludwig looked around more. Maybe they were in the wrong place. Maybe he'd screwed up.
"Diana?" Berding said. "Diana? Where are you? Diana?"
Ludwig waited. The Captain hit the send button, trying to return the call. He waited and waited.
"Nothing," he said. He tried again.
"You might not get a signal out here."
"But it rang once. And I'm getting her voicemail when I call back. Unless..."
"Unless the caller knows we're here," Ludwig said.
Berding sprang forward in a run, and Ludwig hustled to not be left behind.
*
Roger watched the girl writhe on the ground. Something was wrong with her. He still had his hands on his head, but he realized now he had his chance. The pressure grew inside him. He felt like he was going to burst. The girl lay helpless before him. He knew he had to take care of her just as he had taken care of the others. He knew the clearing wanted that.
He went to the girl, arms outstretched.
*
Diana came back to herself with a great weight pressing on her chest. Something scrambled at her pants and around her throat. Hands. Large, fumbling hands.
She knew it was the man in the clearing. She felt his body press against her, chest to chest, groin to groin. He was full and erect and trying to get her pants open. He must have done this to Jacqueline Foley. He could have done it to so many others.
Diana couldn't push him off. He was too big, and his hot breath blew on her neck like a grizzly bear's. She didn't have the gun anymore.
She reached for her left jacket pocket. Her arm had limited range of motion because of his weight, which pinned the arm to the ground. She moved her wrist and fingers. She could just touch the edge of her pocket and feel the fabric.
The man pushed harder. He undid the button on her jeans and worked on her fly.