Jake quickly walked away from the Killam Library, ducked down a side street, and headed toward Saint Andrew’s United.
His jacket pocket rattled, and it took him a moment to realize his cell phone was ringing. He reached into his pocket.
“Damn,” he said. He had found not his phone, but the big key Harold Grower had insisted he take at their last appointment. He put the key in another pocket, found the phone and flipped it open. “Dr. Tunnel.”
“Jake?” Abby said. She sounded frantic. “You need to get here — I don’t know — they won’t give me an answer but it’s happening too fast and we’re not ready.” She sounded out of breath, and Jake was sure she was crying.
“Whoa, hold on. I don’t understand.”
“Wyatt!” she said, sobbing. “You need to get here! Now!”
“What happened?” Jake asked but the bottom had already dropped out of his stomach.
“The surgery! They took him in early. They took him down to surgery. We’ve been trying to call you for an hour. Get over here!”
And she was gone.
Jake held the phone to his ear and stared straight ahead, his mind racing. Maybe there had been a dead zone in the Dalhousie computer room, or maybe he hadn’t noticed the damn thing vibrating in his jacket. Abby must have been calling while he was searching the Internet. He’d been wasting time while his son was being operated on.
He realized he was still holding the cell phone to his ear. He folded it up and returned it to his pocket. The hospital, he thought. I need to get there.
He was only a few blocks away. He took a couple steps then saw someone waving at him.
Benicio and Matthew. Running. Behind them Jake saw Saint Andrew’s United Church. And down the road he heard several sets of heavy footsteps. Also running.
“Jake!” he heard a voice scream. Benicio’s?
Jake couldn’t look away. He couldn’t figure out how to make his legs work or how to turn his head. Two large, rough-looking men were pounding down the street, pushing people out of their way. He recognized them. It was the two from earlier at his office, Maury and Jeremy, and they were chasing Matthew and Benicio.
Benicio reached Jake’s side, looked over his shoulder then hurried Matthew and Jake off the sidewalk and across the church lawn. He kept pushing until they were around the corner of the building, out of sight of the road. On this side of the church, a fence provided some separation from the University buildings next door. It probably helped prevent student travel across the church grounds. Unfortunately, it meant that this little alcove was a dead end. Then Jake saw a shallow flight of stairs that led down to a heavy wooden door.
“Where’s your car?” Benicio asked him. “We need to get out of here.”
“Over there.” Jake pointed down Robie Street. “Ben, who are those thugs chasing you? What’s going on?”
“Damn.” Benicio swore and looked around. He knew Maury and Jeremy would be on them in less than a minute. “I don’t have time to explain right now — we have to make a run for it. You take Matthew and start moving. I’ll try to keep those guys here so you can get away.”
Jake took his hand out of his pocket to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead and felt something hard and cold scrape along his brow. It was the heavy copper key. He looked at it as though seeing it for the first time.
“Jake,” Benicio pleaded, “snap out of it!”
He looked at the key, then at the old wooden door, and remembered Harold’s words: You need to have this. It will be your exit when you’re trapped. Look to the church.
He ran down the stone stairs, jammed the old key into the weathered brass plate on the door, and turned it. The big metal key moved easily, and the door opened. “Come on,” he called to Benicio and Matthew.
Maury and Jeremy ran to the church.
“What the hell?” Jeremy said. He scanned the small area with the barrel of his gun. “Where’d they go?”
“Put the gun away,” Maury snapped as he tucked his pistol into the waistband of his pants. “They either kept going down the street or they’re in there.” He pointed to the wooden door. He dropped down the few steps, pulled his gun again, grabbed the latch, and leaned hard on the door. It didn’t move. He jiggled the door handle and pushed again. “Locked,” he announced.
“Ah, they didn’t fuckin’ use that door anyway,” Jeremy said.
“Let’s go,” Maury grumbled. “They have to be around here somewhere.”
And they took off.