as a student.
     Twenty police officers moved in on the
school at 8:30 a.m. to make the arrests.
     "The students arrested were identified as
consumers and traffickers," said Sgt. Nola
Augustine. "They were dealing in hashish."
     The operation began March 7 with a female
officer enroling as a student at the school.
     The students, aged 14 to 18, were charged
with a total of 40 counts relating to
trafficking and possession of drugs.

                            Chapter 1

     After dinner at the exclusive Crow's Nest Country Club, Nola
was presented with the prestigious Executive Merit Award. After her
well-rehearsed and professionally delivered acceptance speech, she
finished a second bottle of champagne, discreetly sharing the
expensive wine with her twelve-year old daughter, Tashia.
     The influential and distinguished guests shared polite after
dinner conversation until one A.M. It was nearly two before Nola
and Tashia were able to load their suitcases in the new car. The
luggage included a special locked briefcase.
     They had planned a one month summer vacation at a secluded
cabin in the rugged canyon area. The intent of the vacation was to
engage in some intensive mother-daughter bonding in a primitive
setting. At least, that's what they told their friends. In fact,
they planned to purchase two first class tickets from their secret
horde of cash for an executive world tour.
                              * * *
     Nola was the city's deputy police chief. She was well known
and respected for her zeal to rid the community of the degenerate
scum that preyed on the helpless, addicting them to the evil vices
of the world. She had received dozens of civic awards and
commendations for her outstanding achievements in crime detection
and prevention during her fifteen-year career. And it was almost
certain that she would succeed police chief Jack Daly when he
retired in October. She was already a member of the Police Board
and was a deaconess in the city's largest church, the
fundamentalist Church of God that promoted law and order even if
civil liberties were violated. The Mayor and the Police Chief were
elders of the same church.
     Nola profited, in secret, from the sale of smuggled liquor,
cigarettes and drugs. She took a fee, modest, of course, from
Johnny Colombo in return for information about police patrols and
investigations into smuggling activities. In addition, not all the
goods seized from Colombo's competitors during routine police
patrols reached the evidence lockup.
     Although Tashia attended an elite and fashionable private
young women's academy, she sold the marijuana and hashish that Nola
skimmed from the lockup to grade five and six students at the
Junior High School.
     And so what if the shit dear little Tashia peddled seemed to
cause social problems. It was not their fault that eleven-year old
Laura Austin was found naked, wandering in the park, stoned on gin
and pot, a victim of a vicious beating and rape; or that twelve-
year old Tammy Bruce committed suicide in a violent rage induced by
an overdose of hashish; or that juvenile crimes of theft and
prostitution increased to pay for alcohol and drug dependencies.
     Deputy Chief Augustine promised to bring the criminals
responsible for the ruined lives before the courts and she hinted
that those responsible were part of organized crime.
     Nola and Tashia prospered.
                              * * *     

                            Chapter 2

     "Mom,....." She hesitated. ".....I've gotta pee something
horrible."
     "What?"
     "It's all I can do to hold it."
     Nola laughed.
     Tashia squirmed. Her hand came up in front of her face and
rubbed her ear.
     "It's not funny," she whispered.
     "I could use a pit-stop myself," Nola said. The car slowed,
glided to the right, and tipped slightly as one side dropped from
the pavement to the gravel. It slid forward, then stopped.
     Both doors of the Sundance swung open.
     Tashia climbed out. Then Nola was pulling her by the hand,
leading her in a rush toward the other side of the road.
     Still clutching her daughter's hand, she plunged through
undergrowth beyond the edge of the road. The nearest group of trees
was off to the left. She headed that way, running, Tashia racing
along at her side.
     Almost there. They leaped over a channel of tire ruts, each
landing with one foot on the centre rise and bounding over the
second rut. Then Nola released her hand. Tashia dashed to a nearby
tree and ducked behind its trunk. Not quite out of sight. The trunk
was narrow.
     Nola could see her right side, grey and flecked with
moonlight, as she yanked the sweatpants down to her ankles and
leaned back and sank to a squat. The trunk held up her windbreaker.
She glimpsed the pale curve of her hip, the side of her bare leg.
     When she heard her daughter's stream start splashing the
ground, she turned around, unzipped her jeans and lowered them,
squatted and began urinating. She finished, wiped herself with a
kleenex, stood up and pulled up her pants.
     Tashia was still going.
     "All done," she said finally. Nola heard her footsteps
approaching. "Boy, do I feel better."
     Nola patted her rear and grinned at her. "Good thing we
stopped when we did."
     "Just in the nick of time, I'd say."
     They turned toward each other. Nola wrapped her arms around
her. She hugged Tashia hard, kissed her forehead. She was
trembling.
     "Cold?" Nola whispered.
     The image was so vivid it was a shock when she looked down at
Tashia. The girl clutched herself tightly. Her face was white and
pinched, the grey eyes huge.
     That look. She had it when she pleaded hysterically to have
the lights on at night. And she had it after the bad dreams and the
screaming spells. But not here, not now...
     "Tashia?" Nola cupped the pointed chin and tried to tip her
face, but her head was too rigid. "Tashia. What's the matter?"
     "Mom, the dark place." She stared past Nola with a peculiarly
fixed gaze. The darkness was cave-like, and for just an instant
Tashia knew it was the darkness that houses bats, ghoulies,
ghosties, long-legged beasties...and she knew something else lurked
there. Denizens of the other side. Things with sharp yellow teeth
and foul breath and...something feral and rotten.
     Nola drew a shaky breath.
     Tashia shrank away, looking totally betrayed and abandoned.
Then she willed herself to be calm. But pain stabbed at her temples
like a needle sharp splinter driven deep into the back of her eyes.
     "It's not so bad now. It's pretty late. What time is it?"
     Nola released her and stepped back. She fingered a button to
light the face of her wristwatch. "Three-fifteen."
     "We made pretty good time."
     "I guess we'd better go back to the car."
     "Guess so."
     She took a step toward the nearer rut of the tire tracks. She
walked down into the rut, then onto the higher ground of the centre
strip. Nola, staying at her side, strode along the worn path.
     "Do you like me tall?" Tashia asked. Her eyes were level with
Nola's. Everything was normal again.
     "Different. But I wouldn't want anything changed about you."
     "Nothing?"
     "You're perfect just the way you are."
     "My boobs are too small."
     "They'll grow. You're still a little girl!"
     "Mom....!"
     Suddenly, "Weird!"
     "Weird?"
     Halting, Nola raised her hand and thrust it forward, pointing.
     "Look!"
     Tashia turned her head to the front.
     Not more than ten feet farther ahead, the tire tracks seemed
to end. Tashia hadn't paid much attention to them before, but she'd
thought they would lead back to the main road. Just at the edge of
the woods, however, a tangle of limbs and bushes blocked the way.
     "We can circle around," she said. She pulled Nola's hand, but
she resisted.
     "No. Wait. Don't you think this is strange?"
     Tashia shrugged.
     "Let's take a look." Releasing Tashia's hand, Nola rushed to
the obstruction. She crouched and tugged at a branch. It slid
toward her feet. Leaning forward, she lifted a small bush from the
pile. She tossed it aside.
     "What are you doing?"
     She stood up and faced her daughter. Her voice was hushed,
excited. "Somebody put this stuff her. To hide the way in."
     "So!"
     "Somebody took the trouble to hide this road."
     Nola turned her head. Tashia did the same. The pair of tracks
stretched away and faded into the darkness of the forest.
     "If we follow it far enough," Nola whispered, "I'll bet we'll
find something interesting!"

                            Chapter 3

     "Shit, look at this." Crouching over the pile of limbs and
bushes, Nola lifted one end of a long two-by-four. Its length was
spiked with jutting nails. "Almost poked myself," she muttered.
     "Could've had the fun of a tetanus shot," Tashia said.
     Nola picked up the rest of the board, swung it around and
hurled it aside.
                              * * *
     When they finished clearing the barricade, Nola rubbed her
hands against the front of her sweatshirt and said, "Okay, let's
check it out."
     "What do you mean?" Tashia asked.
     "Take a little ride and see if we can find anything."
     "Now?"
     "No time like the present."
     "We can't do that," Tashia said.
     "Sure we can," Nola replied.
     "It won't take long."
     "We shouldn't do anything until we come back from vacation."
     Nola shrugged. "Another half hour or so isn't gonna make any
difference. It's the middle of the night. We've got lots of time
before we have to be at the airport."
     Turning around, they walked to the car.
     This is crazy, Tashia thought.
     They climbed into the car and Nola started the engine.
     "I tell you what," Nola said. "We'll give it five or ten
minutes." She began pulling the car forward, swinging it into a
slow U-turn. "We'll just make a short run up that road and if we
don't find something quick, we'll head on into the city and come
back next month for a thorough search. How does that sound?"
     "Oh, I guess," Tashia muttered.
     The car rocked and bounced as Nola steered onto the dirt road.
"It's no big deal," she said. "Fifteen or twenty minutes, one way
or the other, won't make any difference to our vacation."
     Tashia shook and swayed with the rough motions of the car.
     We shouldn't be here, she thought. But she supposed that Nola
was right. A brief delay shouldn't matter much.
     But she didn't like this road.
     Not at all.
     Somebody had tried to conceal its entrance.  The barricade had
been their clue that somebody didn't want visitors. This is really
bad, she thought. Tashia was spooked.
     "It's been more that five minutes," Tashia said.
     "No place to turn around," Nola said. "I'm not about to back
all the way out to the road."
     A pretty lame excuse, Tashia thought. She could see through
the windshield. Though trees bordered the twin ruts, they were far
enough back for Nola to turn the car around if she wanted to.
     "We're not exactly hemmed in," Tashia said.
     "Just a little farther," Nola said. "Then we'll...damn!"
     Nola glimpsed a clearing ahead. Then the bright pale beams of
the headlights vanished as if sucked back into the car.
     Nola jammed on the brakes. The car lurched to a stop.
     "Holy shit," Tashia muttered.
     Nola saw it.
     An abandoned car with its left side in the bush.
     "What are you going to do," Tashia gasped.
     "Check it out. It's a hell of a place to leave a car."
     She stopped in front of it. "I don't see anyone inside."
     Nola couldn't see anything through the dark windshield. But
she'd seen nobody during the moment her headlights had flooded the
car.
     "Wait here." She shifted to park and set the emergency brake
but kept the engine running. "Back in a second."
     "I'm coming with you."
     "Tashia!"
     She opened the door and got out.
     Nola flung her door wide. She called, "Just hold on and wait
for me."
     Tashia waited for her at the edge of the road, hunched over
slightly, arms hugging her chest.
     "It's warm in the car," Nola said.
     "I'm not gonna sit in there alone. In fact, I'm not so sure we
should've even stopped. I don't like this."
     Though the road was flecked with moonlight, none touched the
car.
     "Anybody there?" Nola called
     No answer.
     Side by side, they walked closer to the car. Nola realized she
was shaking. She felt a sudden rush of relief when she noticed the
car's lopsided position. "Its got a flat!"
     Tashia stayed behind Nola as she walked around the front
bumper, paused for a moment to look at the flat, then stepped up to
the driver's door. Its window was rolled up. Bending over, she
peered in. The interior was black. "Can't see a thing."
     "God, if there's someone inside there..."
     Nola stepped back and tried the door handle. It lifted. The
door was unlocked. She pulled it open. A loud buzz. She flinched.
Tashia gasped. But the dome light was on, the car empty. Leaning in
over the steering wheel, she saw that the key was in the ignition.
She plucked it out and the noise stopped.
     "Weird," Nola muttered. "Why would anyone go away and leave
the keys in the car?"
     "I don't know. Unless they just went off to take a leak, or
something.
     I'm gonna honk the horn." Nola pressed the steering wheel's
hub. The horn blared through the night like the blast of an angry
bugler. she let it go on for a long time, paused to listen, then
gave the horn three short toots and another long one.
     Tashia tapped her back. "I think that's plenty."
     She stopped. The silence seemed oppressive. As if the noise of
the horn had deadened her ears in much the same way that a brief,
brilliant flood of light would've left her blind in the returning
darkness. She listened for sounds of footsteps in the woods beyond
the car. But she heard nothing at all.
     "I don't think anyone's around," she whispered.
     "It just doesn't make sense to leave your keys in the car and
go away."
     "I know. But everybody isn't sensible. Besides, remember that
the road was blocked." She sat down behind the steering wheel. As
she leaned sideways, reaching for the glove compartment, she
noticed a leather handbag on the floor. It was tucked in close to
the passenger seat. "A purse." she said.
     "You're kidding!"
     She picked it up and showed it to Tashia. She shook her head.
     "Should we see who it belongs to?"
     "It'll be pretty embarrassing if we're caught at it."
     "Well the horn didn't bring anyone running."
     "Go ahead," Tashia said. "I'll keep watch."
     She pulled the door toward her, leaving it ajar so the light
would stay on, then opened the purse. She glimpsed a billfold, a
checkbook, some tampons, a pack of chewing gum, a hair brush. She
removed only the billfold. She unsnapped it and flipped it open.
     The driver's licence had a photo of an attractive brunette who
appeared to be in her early twenties. "Linda Hawkins," she read.
     "You'd better put it away," Tashia said. She sounded nervous.
     "Just a second." She spread the bill compartment. A couple of
twenties, a ten, a few ones, and several credit cards. She pulled
out a Visa card. It was issued to Linda Hawkins. Nola stuck the
bills and the Visa card in her pocket along with the drivers
licence.
     "Think I could pass as Linda Hawkins, Tash? It'll help our
cash flow."
     Tashia just giggled.
     She returned the billfold to the purse, and wedged the purse
back into position where she'd found it.
     Taking the ignition key with her, she climbed out. She threw
the door shut and the car went dark.
     Tashia followed her to the trunk.
     She opened it. Darkness inside. Dim shapes. Bending over, she
searched with her hands. She felt suitcases, some smaller luggage,
and a spare tire. "There's a spare," she said.
     "Maybe it's no good."
     "Or Linda doesn't know how to change tires."
     Nola shut the trunk and turned to Tashia.
     "Can we go now?" her daughter asked.
     "I'm not sure. I need to think. Something's wrong here!"
     "I know, It's all pretty queer. But I'm freezing. What else
can we do?"
     "Search down the road a little more!" Nola said. "Maybe we'll
find another purse!" Nola smiled to herself. This was turning out
to be a real adventure. She knew that she could assume Linda's
identity for some free goodies.


                            Chapter 4

     Nola saw it first.
     A cabin.
     She guessed it was a cabin. At the far end of the moonlit
field. Maybe a hundred yards away. But all she could see of it was
some rectangles that seemed to hover above the ground. Windows.
Faint, glowing patches of crimson. Apparently, the windows were
shrouded with red curtains.
     "Looks creepy," Tashia whispered. "Lets turn around and
leave."
     "No way." Nola said. "We can't quit now."
     "I don't know," Tashia muttered. "Looks like somebody might be
in there."
     "If it didn't have lights on, we couldn't have seen it.
They're on for us."
     "I really don't like this, mom!"
     "Don't be such a baby, Tashia. Look, let's just leave the car
and sneak up on the place. We'll check it out. We don't have to go
inside, but we've gotta a least take a closer look. I mean, maybe
there's some more goodies in there!"
     "I guess as long as we're careful," Tashia muttered.
     "Tashia, why don't you take care of the courtesy light? We
don't want it coming on when we open the doors."
     She reached up to the roof and tugged at the light's plastic
cover. One end snapped loose. Fumbling underneath it, she twisted
the bulb and plucked it free.
     "Got it." She stuffed the bulb into a pocket of her
sweatpants.
     "Let's go." Nola said.
     Both doors swung open. Climbing out, Tashia noticed the quiet
way Nola shut the driver's door. She shut her door gently, pushing
until it latched.
     We're scared shitless, Tashia thought.
     Tashia joined Nola at the rear of the car. Her keys jangled.
Finding the one she wanted, she bent over the trunk and slid it
into the lock.
     "What're you doing?" Tashia whispered.
     "Flashlights and weapons." Nola turned the key. A quiet sound.
The lid of the trunk slowly rose. She leaned into the darkness,
lifted a suitcase, turned around and offered it to Tashia.
     Tashia took it, stepped back and set it down at her feet.
     "Get your flashlight," Nola whispered, "but don't turn it on."
     Nola took out her revolver. Reaching behind her back, she
lifted her sweatshirt out of the way. Tashia saw a band of pale
skin above her belt as she shoved the barrel down the seat of her
pants.
     "I don't know about this," Tashia muttered.
     "What don't you know?" her mother asked.
     "Look how you're arming yourself. If it's going to be so
dangerous, shouldn't we forget about it?"
     "I'm just taking precautions. If I honestly believed we'd be
running into trouble, I wouldn't go anywhere near the cabin!"
     Tashia realized that her own right hand was deep in the pocket
of her sweatpants, fingering her Swiss Army knife.
     "Why don't you wait here?"
     "I go where you go."
     Nola led the way across the field. Tashia stayed close behind
her.
     Tashia shivered as she walked. She wished she'd had her coat.
The chilly breeze seemed to pass right through her top. She watched
the way it ruffled Nola's hair. Her hair looked silvery in the
moonlight. Her grey sweatshirt was pale.
     It's so damn bright out here, she thought. If somebody looks
out one of those windows... She could see it better now. Three
crimson windows. One glowed slightly brighter that the other two.
     It looked so forbidding. The whole field was bathed in milky
moonlight, but not the cabin. It was at the very edge of the
forest. Overhanging limbs shrouded its bulk with shadow. Except for
the red of its windows, the cabin looked even darker than the
woods.
     Somebody must live in it.
     What kind of person...
     A few strides from the side of the cabin, Nola and Tashia
halted. They stood motionless, staring up at the windows.
Listening.
     Gazing at the covered windows, Nola held her breath and
listened. She heard her own thudding heartbeat, cries of some
distant birds, the wind hissing through the forest, the whisper of
leaves rubbing against the roof of the cabin. But no sounds at all
seemed to be coming from inside.
     Somebody must be in there, Nola thought.
     Nola started forward. Tashia followed, close to her back. Nola
heard Tashia's shaky breathing behind her. They stopped at the rear
of the cabin. The windows were masked with red fabric, just like
all the others.
     Nola looked at Tashia, then turned away. Bending forward, she
peered around the corner. She eased back and faced Tashia. "The
door's open," she whispered.
     Tashia went cold and crawly inside. She felt her nipples
shrivel up tight. "I don't like it at all," Tashia said, her voice
low and shaky.
     "It'll make it easier for us," Nola whispered.
     "Shit," Tashia said. "Somebody's gotta be in there."
     "I'm not quitting now," Nola said. "Remember, I'm a cop.
Nobody will mess with me!"
     Nola reached under the back of her sweatshirt and pulled out
the revolver. "We'll just take it slow and easy. Any sign of
trouble, we'll get the hell out of here."
     "Here goes nothing," Nola said and stepped around the corner
of the cabin. Tashia went after her.
     The forest was just to the right, some of the trees almost
close enough to touch. If anything goes wrong, Tashia thought, we
can run in there. So dark. So many trees. Plenty of places to hide.
     Just this side of the door, Nola stopped. She stood up
straight and raised her left hand.
     Tashia halted.
     Nola moved into the light, turning toward the doorway. Then
she stepped into the cabin. As she disappeared out of sight, Tashia
entered the brightness and followed her mother. Nola had obviously
seen nothing alarming.
     Her mother was staring at something. Her lower lip was clamped
between her teeth. She met her daughter's eyes. Looking worried,
she lifted her gaze and peered into the semi-darkness beyond her
head.
     "What?" Tashia whispered.
     Nola shook her head, pressed a finger to her lips for silence,
then started walking. She was staring at something.
     Something on a bench near the window.
     Whatever it was, Tashia thought, it must not be any big deal.
Nola was just staring at it, not running away. She followed her.
     Not as cold as outside. But almost. And the air smelled bad.
Like a nasty bar, a dive. A mingling of stale smoke, sweat,
alcohol, urine and a legion of other foul aromas.
     Wrapped in a blanket was a woman. She was stretched out
motionless on a the bench. The blanket covered her from neck to
feet. Over her chest, it rose and fell slightly with the motions of
her breathing.
     Her brown hair was a tangled mess. Her face glowed bright red
as if she'd spent far too long in the sun. Her lips were dry and
cracked. A dark bruise smudged the left side of her jaw.
     In spite of her condition, Tashia could see that she was
pretty. And not very old. Probably in her early twenties.
     She wondered quickly if this was her home.
     And did she live here alone?
     Though she felt compelled to stare at her, Tashia forced
herself to turn away. She had the horrible thought that they had
found Linda Hawkins.
     A bench on the other side of the room was heaped with clutter;
grocery bags, crushed beer cans; a hubcap heaped with ashes and
dead cigarettes; packages of cookies and chips, some still unopened
and others crumpled; piles of rags and dirty clothes.
     "I'll check out the rest," Nola whispered.
     Tashia glanced at the woman. She still slept.
     Nola and Tashia made their way through the cabin. Near the
rear wall were three mattresses piled with blankets and clothes.
     Sleeping places for three more people.
     Where are they? Tashia wondered. What if they come back and
find us here? What if they're hiding, right now, just outside.
     She watched Nola pause, standing by one of the mattresses,
turning her head as she looked at the two nearby steamer trunks.
The tops of the trunks were littered with junk. On one was a
Coleman lantern, its twin mantels hissing, filling the cabin with
light.
     Nola moved on. She held the revolver ready to fire. She looked
from side to side, checking for movement or sound.
     At last she reached the back door.
     Thank God, Tashia thought. Nothing.
     Nola turned to her daughter.
     "Anything?" Tashia whispered.
     Nola shook her head.
     "We oughta have a look in the trunks. Maybe there's..."
     "Mom, we've gotta get out of here." Tashia said. "Right now.
We've gotta take her with us."
     "What's the....?"
     "The stink of this place. The way it looks. And her." She
suddenly crouched, slapped a hand across the mouth of the sleeping
woman, and hurled the blanket away.
     The woman was naked. Her skin glowed scarlet as if she'd been
broiled all day by the sun. She was bruised, striped with welts,
seamed with shallow cuts from a knife blade. She had raw burns on
her shoulders and breasts and thighs. Her wrists were roped beneath
the bench, her ankles were bound together with rope. Under the
bench were half-used candles and matches, blackened toothpicks and
a weathered leather belt.
     Nola saw all this as the woman lurched awake, eyes springing
open. As she bucked, trying to sit up. As Tashia gasped, "Holy
shit!" As Nola groaned and muttered, "My God." As the woman pulled
her arms against the ropes. As she settled down and lay motionless
on the bench and glanced at the faces above her.
     "We're here to help you," Tashia said, and lifted her hand
away from the woman's mouth.
     "They hurt me!" she blurted. "They hurt me and they..."
     "Who?" Nola whispered.
     "An old man and three younger guys!"
     "Where are they?"
     "I don't know."
     "Let's get her and beat it." Tashia moaned.
     Nola pushed the gun into the waistband of her sweatpants and
slipped a hand under the back of the woman's neck. Tashia had her
knife out. Crouching, she began to saw through the ropes at her
wrists.
     A blast slammed Tashia's eardrums.
     Nola dropped to the ground, grabbed Tashia by the ankles and
pulled her to the floor. A roar thundered through the cabin.
     Nola grabbed her revolver and aimed toward the three fat men
who rushed through the door with shotguns.
     The men stopped and aimed shotguns at her head.
     "No!" Tashia shrieked.
     "Drop the gun! Or ..." the nasal voice gloated.
     Nola let go of her revolver.
     "Push it away from you with your fingers!"
     Stunned, she obeyed.
     An skinny stooped old man wearing only boxer shorts slipped
through the door and crept toward the captives. He was a shabby
spectre. He had lost all of the blubber and his once neatly-groomed
full beard was a tangled mess. Except for his bald head he was
furry with grey hair. His face was greasy with sweat and his eyes
were huge.
     Nola recognized him.
     Although the years in prison had wasted him Nola recognized
Scott Millar. And Jason and Willie and Jeremy.
     And there was no doubt that they had recognized her as well.
     "So Nola, you finally came over to play 'ride the rail and
horsey'! And you brought a little girlie for me. You remembered!
Jeremy has a great rail over an ant hill waiting for you!"
                        (To be Continued)