58

I told Heather to bear left and take the Key Bridge. I half turned to check on our pursuers as we followed the fast-moving traffic across the Potomac River.

“They’re driving behind us, on the bridge. About five cars back. Here’s my plan: we have to split up.”

Heather shouted, “No!”

“It’s the only way. They want me, not you. I’m hoping they’ll tail me and leave you behind.”

“But there are two of them,” she said. “One for each of us.”

She had a point.

“Give me a second,” I said, booting up Google Maps on my phone. “Okay. Get me to the Rosslyn Metro, which is straight ahead, only a few blocks from here. I’ll dash out. You’ll have to backtrack and find the exit to I-66 heading into Washington. You’ll cross another bridge, then get onto Constitution Avenue. A couple of miles down Constitution, you’ll bear left on Louisiana over to Union Station. That’s where we’ll meet. Can you remember all that?”

“Trevor, I’m a grad student, remember? But what will I do when I get there?”

“Just keep making your way around Union Station. There’s a circle drive. I’ll be in the front coming out of the building. Meet me in an hour.”

“Until then?”

“Lose them if they’re still in the car. Hopefully they’ll both come after me. If not, make it over to the DC side, across the Potomac. Once you’re on Constitution Avenue, you’ll see loads of squads and Metro police. Just pull over, get out of the car, and start screaming that you’re being chased.”

Heather asked, “What about you?”

“I’m taking the subway. The Metro rail.”

We were across the bridge by then, and I told her to stomp on the gas and gun us over to the Rosslyn Metro. A quick look in my side mirror. “They’re only two cars back,” I shouted. “Closing in.” I pointed to the Metro subway sign. “Slam on the brakes!”

We screeched to a stop, and I tossed the cell phone down on the passenger seat and bolted out of the car as Heather squealed the tires. She was out of sight by the time I hit the lobby of the Metro station, frantically grabbing for my wallet and debit card. Quickly inserting it into the ticket kiosk, yanking out the ticket, and hurrying down the steep escalator crowded with travelers, I glanced back to see if I was being followed. Not yet, but that wasn’t good. I wanted me to be the magnet for the duo, not Heather.

Silent, rushed prayers for the safety of Heather. For the vanquishing of the dark forces that were at play in this city. For the obliteration of Kuritsa Foks Videoryad, and for the rescue of all those girls who had been captured in that web of torture, terror, and perversion.

And as for the voodoo cult leader hiding somewhere in Washington who had to be the force behind it all —undoubtedly demonically empowered —I prayed for the searchlight of God to illuminate that twisted monster for me.

I stepped off the escalator, pressed through the crowd, and searched for the tunnel leading to the Silver Line of the Metro until I found it. Another glance backward to the escalator. I heard the sound of the Metro train rushing up to us, and as it pulled to the curb in a long line of conjoined cars, I heard the chimes and the canned announcement telling everyone to step back to allow passengers to exit the car. When the doors slid open, I was about to dash into the nearest car, but looked back to the escalator. The red-shirt twin was now sprinting my way.

I jumped into the Metro car. Then the double chime and the recorded voice: “Step back. Doors closing.”

“Yes, good idea, close, close,” I said under my breath.

I put my face to the glass as the doors slid closed and saw the twin in the red shirt squeeze into the car behind mine.

The Metro railcar sped forward with a jerk as I prayed for Heather, wherever she was. I had to commit her now to the protection of God.

I knew I had to transfer to the Red Line at Metro Center in order to get to my destination and rendezvous with Heather, and the red-shirt twin would be only steps behind me when the Metro came to a stop.

Then the realization struck me. There were multiple stops in between. At each stop, the doors would open. The demonic twin would be in my car in an instant. To avoid that, I would have to dash out at each stop and make it down to another car just before that door was closing. A game of chase-and-dodge, with my life on the line.