CHAPTER 29 - Amon

T here are one hundred twenty-seven people in Disciple, West Virginia. Sixty-four are male, sixty-three are female, but only eighty-five of that total are over eighteen and only about half of that number are men.

Forty-four grown men, to be exact.

But when you add forty-four to Edge's sixty ex-soldiers—plus me, Collin, Ryan, and Nash—you get one hundred and eight.

It's not quite a company, but that's OK because Collin Creed isn't quite a captain, either. And anyway, it's a good-sized platoon, which fits Master Sergeant Creed's old rank just fine.

When I get done explaining how we're gonna get Cross back, the whole town starts murmuring. Jim Bob takes over, telling people to calm down and take a seat, and doin' all his mayor stuff. Which allows me to step aside and let him have his say.

I already know he's gonna agree to my plan because Collin told me that he's looking for protection. Now, we understand that we do not have all the facts here. And there is something pretty serious going on between the Trinity towns and Blackberry Hill. Probably something dark that comes with undesirable consequences should one stray from the agreed-upon stipulations.

That's why, when we came back, Jim Bob wanted us to run security. Not because he thinks someone's gonna shoot up the Revival or anything as dramatic as that, but because there's paperwork involved here. Contracts and commitments.

And it seems to me that certain people are finished with these contracts and commitments and would like to move on while other certain people are standing in the way of that growth and progression.

So Jim Bob is in.

Most of the town is, as well. But of course they have questions. As they should. Because this isn't some small act of rebellion we're doing here. This is us against the US government.

A secret branch of the US government that they are desperate to keep under wraps, which makes the whole thing even more dangerous.

But… we kinda got them by the balls.

They were sloppy once upon a time. They were using that old mine on our property for something or other, and then… I dunno. Probably funding got cut and they closed it down.

But see, secret projects come with all kinds of sticky consequences. For one, people are desperate to shut up about them 'cause most of the time they're illegal. And for two, once they get forgotten by the small number of people who actually knew about them in the first place, they get forgotten by everyone.

They forgot about our little mine and what they were hiding inside it.

Oh, someone remembered—after the fact. Because Charlie fuckin' Beaufort sure did get curious about that place. And that's why he sent Sawyer Martin in to check things out.

"What kind of diagrams?" Lecter, Rosie's brother, is asking. "I mean, how is this helpful? And that's my nephew's life you're playing around with, Amon! Rosie?" He looks at her. "Are you on board with this?"

Rosie only knows what I said here in the tent tonight and nothing else because I only wanted to explain once. So my head turns to her, just like everyone else's. We're standing a few paces apart, so she walks over to me and hooks her arm into mine to signal our solidarity. Then she nods. "I am one hundred percent behind this plan and I hope y'all are as well. Because I want my boy back and this is how we're gonna do it."

There's more muttering after that. A few more people start asking Jim Bob about consequences, and he does his best to explain how badly they need us. As in Edge. As in Collin, but me too. I don't have his reputation, but I am most certainly my own force of nature.

Finally, Jim Bob turns to us and nods. "We're in."

I step to the front of the stage again and scan the crowd, giving them all one more serious once-over. "All right, then. Everyone meet us at the Edge compound in thirty minutes. You tell your families to bring one bag and that's it."

They stare at me for a few moments and I think this is when the seriousness of the situation finally sets in. Because Disciple, West Virginia, is about to declare war on the US government.

It's a pretty dumb idea considering they've got all the weapons one can dream up, plus plenty more we haven't even imagined yet.

But we found our Goonies treasure.

And our treasure is a map.

Rosie and I arrive back at Edge to a big commotion. Ryan's doing something with a bulldozer, and Nash has got a clipboard and has the men all lined up in formation in front of the mess hall. And Collin is standing on his porch with Lowyn when we pull up, smiling.

We get out and I walk over to his house, just staring up at him. "What the hell are you smiling about?"

He chuckles as Lowyn hops down the steps and hooks her arm into Rosie's, heading into our house so Rosie can collect her things. "I just think it's kinda funny, don't you?"

I smile too. "That they left this place, forgot about it, and then that blowhard Charlie Beaufort practically hand-delivered it right to us a hundred years later?"

"It's fate, Amon."

"Maybe, but"—I nod my head to the driveway, which is filling up with trucks and cars from Disciple—"ruining my life is one thing. Ruining theirs…" I shake my head. "I'm worried."

Collin comes down the steps, nodding as well. "Well, then I guess we should make sure they're all safe. Come on."

By the time we get to the church, people are already filling it up. Ryan has finished piling dirt up against the sides of the building—which was already reinforced with steel back when we first moved in, but he insisted that a little more dirt never made something less safe. So now the church has a berm of earth all the way around it that goes all the way up to the top of the stained-glass windows.

This is the safe house. It's also got a bunker in the basement, which we did take a good look at when we first got here, but it warranted a second look after we found our treasure in the old mine.

Turns out it wasn't just a bunker. Because with a little sleuthing—and a ground-penetrating radar machine—we found that the tunnels under our property aren't limited to just the old mine. With a little blasting and some concrete removal, we found an entrance. And I'm not talking some little hole in the wall. I'm talking a hallway with lights and everything. Course, we don't know how to turn the lights on yet, but it'll come. This hallway leads to another, which leads to another, and it goes on and on like this until finally, you find yourself standing in the middle of a six-lane highway that spreads out in four directions.

What's going on in the old mine is a whole other kind of special because we found a room down there. An old room sealed up by a steel door. And inside this room was a panel of old computers as well as it's own set of doors that lead other places.

Now, the prevailing wisdom is that the invention of the modern-day computer comes with a date that lands somewhere in the middle of the twentieth century. But that's all lies. That's just when they started telling people about modern-day computers, because they were invented much, much earlier and this little room of ours is proof. Because while they do look antique compared to what we have today, it only takes one second of operational time to realize they are, in fact, modern. Relatively speaking, of course.

And once Ryan got the power running, they came right to life, flashing all kinds of old-timey code and shit. But Nash, he's somewhat of a nerd, so he's been our tech guy for years now and was able to finagle his way into a menu—or what passed as one a hundred years ago. Nevertheless, he found the files inside that computer to be quite interesting. Top secret kind of interesting. In other words, information that should've been forgotten about a century back.

There's so much information, it's gonna take months to go through it. But there was something very useful that we could use immediately.

A map. A fuckin' map of every single secret tunnel that the US government ever drilled. Which might be exaggerating things, but only just a touch.

It's what Collin likes to call ‘comprehensive,' one of his favorite words. This map shows tunnels under West Virginia. Tunnels under DC. Tunnels under Virginia, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey—pretty much tunnels all up and down the eastern seaboard.

All those secret passageways that no one's supposed to know about and we stumbled into the OG documentation for every single square inch.

What are the odds?

It's fate, Amon .

There are whole cities down there. And that was a century ago. I can't even imagine what they've got going on now.

Jim Bob enters the church blowing words like notes comin' out a trumpet. He's complaining and giving orders as he walks up to us. "Do you know what this is gonna turn in to?" He's looking at Collin, not me. "We're gonna be the next Ruby Ridge!"

Collin nods and crosses his arms. "Maybe."

"We're gonna be the next goddamned Waco, Texas, and you're gonna be the charismatic leader they take out with a sniper!"

Collin nods again. "Prolly."

Jim Bob pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and starts wiping his sweaty brow. "I dunno, Collin. This might be a tick too far."

"It might," Collin agrees. He's not been looking at him thus far, but those unnatural eyes of his migrate over to meet Jim Bob's. And I don't care who you are, it's unnerving, that stare. Jim Bob is a huge man, but even he juts his chin back a little at the attention. "But Jim Bob, we've got no choice. They took a child without permission, and this isn't the first time they've tried this."

Jim Bob and I both sigh at this, because now we're picturing Collin killing that Blackberry Hill man twelve years ago.

"It cannot be tolerated." Collin's eyes are narrowed as he says these words. "And for what it's worth, they can't afford too many eyeballs on this place."

"But what if we can't go home?" Jim Bob's voice is very quiet now. It's nearly a whisper. "What if you go down there and they got something up their sleeve and we can't ever go home again, Collin? What if this compound of yours is our prison?"

Collin is unconcerned and it comes out in his tone. "There are probably a thousand miles of tunnels under this country, Jim Bob. And we've got ourselves a map. We're not gettin' stuck, trust me on that. And if they try to Waco our asses, we'll just escape out one of our many, many, many backdoors."

"Not only that"—we all turn and notice that Ryan has walked up next to us—"we've got the whole place lit up with cameras, Jim Bob. Shit, we got our own satellites in low orbit. Fifteen of them. We're an elite security company. Do you really think that we didn't fortify our headquarters the first day we got here? This isn't gonna be no Waco. If they attack us, they attack everyone. Because we'll turn this thing into a first-person shooter game and blast it all over the internet so quick, their heads will spin." Ryan lets out a breath because he kinda got himself worked up there for a moment. "It's not gonna be no Waco and we're not getting burned alive or shot to hell. If there's one thing I know to be true about this operation, this is it."

Jim Bob looks at Collin again. He lets out a breath, but then he nods. "All right then, son." He claps Collin on the shoulder. "Let's get this party started."

Collin reaches into his pocket, pulls out his phone, and hands it to me. "You're up, Amon. Make me proud."

I nod, take the phone, and then step outside the church where every single male resident of Disciple, West Virginia, is standing, waiting on orders. They are all armed.

As are the Edge soldiers. And hey, I'm not disparaging the ability of a West Virginia hillbilly to scare the shit out of a person, but these here men of ours are downright bone-chillin' frightful all dressed up in their body armor and packin' heat to the hilt.

One hundred and eight men against the US government.

Let's fuckin' go.

I press Charlie Beaufort's contact on Collin Creed's phone and put it on speaker. Charlie picks up first ring. "Collin Creed, my favorite son of a gun. How you doin' this lovely evening?"

"It's not Collin."

There's a long moment of silence on the other end of this line, but I let it hang there like unripe fruit. Finally, Charlie blows out a breath. "Amon, I thought I told you we were done talking."

"You did. At least you said you were. But I'm not quite done yet, Charlie. You see, when people steal kids out of Disciple, that act comes with consequences. And I am calling you as a courtesy to let you know those consequences are forthcomin' unless I get my way."

Charlie scoffs here, but doesn't say nothing.

"Now I get it, Charlie. You're a big, important bureaucrat and I'm nothing but a footnote in the history of your long and illustrious career. And I know that your first inclination is gonna be to end this call. But I'm tellin' ya, Charlie, you'd better not do that."

"Or what?" He's angry now. And if he were in this room with us, his whole forehead would be crinkled up and his eyes would be beady.

I hand the phone to Nash. "Hey, Charlie, Nash here. Welp, here's the deal, buddy. Ya see, that man you sent out to inspect shit? Well, I don't think he found much but he did raise a few red flags around here. Which got us curious about what he was checking on out at that old mine."

"Nash, I'm telling ya, you had better?—"

"Charlie," Nash interrupts him, "before you go threatening me, you'd better think long and hard about what I did for you all those years. It's been a while, so I'll give ya a minute." Nash pauses here. Gives me a wink.

"Where's Collin?"

Collin takes the phone from Nash. "I'm right here, Charlie."

"You're gonna allow this to happen? You're just gonna let these boys of yours talk to me this way?"

"See, Charlie, you always did figure that I was in charge here. But I'm not. We're partners. And if Amon wants his boy back, and if Nash wants to do a little sleuthin' on some outdated computers we found in a steel-clad room down in the old mine… well, there's not much I can do about that except join in the fun."

"You're makin' a mistake here, Collin."

"I might be. But I'd just like to remind you that it's one-zero in my favor."

"What? What's that mean?"

"That last man who came into Disciple trying to fuck around and take a child…" Collin scoffs. "Well, let's just say he found out, didn't he?"

"Did you just threaten me?"

"I don't think so. Unless it was you who took Cross Harlow. And if it was, then… yeah. I just threatened you."

He hands the phone to me while Charlie is chewing on this last bit. "Here's what's gonna happen, Charlie. You're gonna get on the horn and whoever runs your satellites, you're gonna tell them to take a little picture of our compound here. You're gonna see a bunch of men standing outside our church. This picture is just so you know that we're not fucking about and if you try anything stupid, we're gonna have ourselves a war. Because you see, the people of Disciple, West Virginia, won't be tolerating no kidnappin'. And they are all here to make that point clear. And the men of Edge Security are flying the Edge logo like it's a goddamn medieval banner. We have come packin' heat and if you don't have Cross Harlow down in that little underground maze the US government has been hiding for the last hundred years, standing outside door number—" I forgot the door number, so I look at Ryan.

"WDV-907."

"—that's right, door number WDV-907—in one hour, the consequences will be dire."

Charlie's words come out with a sneer. "I don't even have clearance for the tunnel that leads to that door."

"Well, it's a good thing that this exchange doesn't require your presence then, isn't it?"

"What you're asking isn't even possible, Amon. Let's talk this over. I can get the boy. I can have him delivered to you by tomorrow night."

"Charlie? It's Nash here now. And I'm just gonna go ahead and say it plain so there are no misunderstandings. If you don't get that boy down to door WDV-907 in one hour, I'll be sending irrefutable proof that these tunnels exist to the mouthiest, most outspoken and annoying conspiracy theorists on the internet and that shit will be blasted all over the world in a matter of hours. And if you doubt that the world will take this information seriously, mark my word, they will. Because I've hacked into every security camera down in those tunnels in a hundred-mile radius and I've got seventy-five livestreams set to broadcast on every single social network in existence in one hour and one minute."

Everyone within hearing distance of that monologue just kinda chuckles.

Nash hands me the phone back and I take over again. "You get that, Charlie? One hour."

Then I end the call and look at Nash. "Is that true? About the livestreams?"

Nash points to himself. "Do I look like a fuckin' liar?"

I just laugh. "Damn. I forgot how fuckin' ruthless you were, Nash. I thought all that paperwork was turning you soft."

He raises his hand up and I clap it.

Then we all turn to the one hundred and four men of Disciple and Edge who just watched this whole thing go down and find that every single one of them has a hanging jaw.

"Welp." Collin slaps Jim Bob on the back, nearly making him choke. "I just burned a really nice bridge, Jim Bob. You understand what this means, right?"

Jim Bob looks panicked for a minute. Like Collin Creed is about to shake him down like a mobster looking for protection money. But then he pulls himself together and nods. "Collin." He even smiles. "I am happy to announce that Disciple, West Virginia, is gonna hire you full time for Revival security to the tune of…" He hedges here, his eyes dartin' back and forth like he's gonna lowball. But the rational side of him beats down the greedy side of him and he says, "A hundred thousand dollars a week, just like we discussed."

Collin nods, then looks at me and grins. "Looks like this is your lucky day, Amon. We're out from under Charlie's thumb and we can still pay the bills. Now you and Ryan go pick up that boy of yours while the rest of us stay here and keep an eye on things." Then he flashes me a little salute.

I snap off a salute of my own in response and fall in next to Ryan as we take off for the woods.

Once we enter the mine it takes about forty minutes to make our way down to the first door. This is the one that leads to the control room with the ancient, but still working, computers. They're all turned off when we enter. "Everything has a shelf life," Nash said earlier. "They work now, but that doesn't mean they'll work tomorrow." So he copied all the files he could find using some kind of hard drive hack, and then we shut them down to preserve whatever life they have left.

This control room isn't the one with the door we're looking for. It's just the starting point. On the other side of this room there's a large open hallway about thirty feet across, and from there, a maze. Not literally, but it might as well be, that's how many choices one has.

Door number WDV-907 is the very first one once you get out in this hallway. On the other side of this door—according to the map—is a straight-shot tunnel that leads directly to Blackberry Hill. Or whatever's underneath it.

Once we get to this door, Ryan says, "All right, you ready?"

We're both wearing armor and carrying heat. Ryan aims his rifle at the door and stares at it, waiting.

I stare at the door too. Waiting as well.

Our hour is nearly up, and we don't even know if they're coming, so this wait is pure agony.

Then we hear it. Some banging or something on the other side. "They're coming," Ryan whispers.

Sure enough, about thirty seconds later, we catch a faint echo of footsteps. They get louder, approaching. And then someone is fucking with the locking mechanism on the door.

There is no handle on this door. There's no keypad or padlock or anything like that. It looks like a hatch you'd find on a ship. Something that, when locked, can seal one compartment from the next. Which means we can't get past the door. Well, I guess we could if we blew it open, but it's clear that this hatch was built to be some kind of boundary between this station and the one on the other side.

The door opens and I step back in shock at the face I'm lookin' at. But it only takes a second or two for it to click into place. "Sawyer?" I ask. "Or Erol?"

Ryan huffs out some air behind me, but he doesn't say anything because he's busy targeting this man, whoever he is, with the rifle.

"It's either-or, I guess," Sawyer says.

"You're Cross's father?" I ask.

He shrugs. "I am."

"So which name is real?"

"Depends on the day, I suppose."

I try to see past him, but the hatch opening isn't that wide, so I don't see much. But there is a shadow back there.

Sawyer or Erol or whoever he is steps aside just enough to give me a glimpse. I was expecting it to be Cross, but it's not. It's three very big men aiming their heat at us. "Don't mind them," Sawyer says. "They're here for me, not you."

My brow furrows in confusion as I parse these words, but then Sawyer is saying, "Come on, Cross. It's time to go home."

And then there he is. All pouty-faced and pissed off. "This is bullshit," he complains, looking me straight in the eyes. "I wanna stay! You have no right to take me out of here!"

I'm just about to open my mouth when Sawyer bends down a little to see his boy better. I figure he's gonna tell him that they'll be together soon, or something like that. But that's not what he says. He says, "You go home and make me proud, OK?"

"But I don't wanna go home, Daddy!"

Is it weird that it kinda kills me that Cross is callin' him Daddy? Because this man isn't his daddy. This man doesn't know anything about this boy.

"Oh, this place ain't going nowhere, Cross. It's gonna be here when you turn eighteen."

And I'm thinking, There it is. That's his plan. Wait until he's eighteen and— But this thought of mine is cut off when I realize that Sawyer isn't looking at Cross, he's looking at me.

And then, as Sawyer stands back up, he says in a voice so low it's even less than a whisper, "Take good care of him, Amon." And then he winks at me and mouths the words, Not everything is what it seems .

The next thing I know Cross is pushed out of the hatch by one of the MP's or whoever they are, and the door is being slammed shut behind him.

"What did he just say?" Ryan asks, still holding his rifle at high-ready just in case.

I look at him, then down at an angry Cross, then back up at Ryan and sigh as I shake my head. "I'll tell ya later. Let's go."

Cross starts his complaining, but I just put my hands on his shoulders and turn him around so we can start the long walk back.