"Slow down," Remo said. "What others? Where did you come from?"
The woman clasped her hands together in an effort to calm herself. "My name is Karen Lockwood," she said shakily. She told them about the strange occurrences that had taken place since she'd been picked up by a blue Econoline van off the interstate.
"The prison's on this mountain?"
Karen nodded. "I think it used to be a church or something. While I was running away from the place, I looked back and saw a bell tower."
"Sounds like the Franciscan monastery," Wolfshy said.
"Well, there aren't any Franciscans there now. Those soldiers shot at me every step of the way until it got dark."
Chiun's brow creased. "Then they are nearby."
"We've all got to get out of here and contact the police," Karen said. "How far is the nearest town?"
"It's fifty miles or so to Santa Fe. You can take the jeep. We'll stay on here," Remo said.
"Uh, are you sure about that?" Sam sputtered. "I mean, if they've got guns and everything—"
"All right, you can go with the girl."
Sam's pinched face relaxed. "I'll take good care of her, don't you worry. Why, when my ancestors walked this land—"
"Shhh." Remo nodded toward Karen. She was propped up beside a rock, fast asleep. Her dirty face looked as innocent as a child's.
"She was exhausted," Chiun said. "Let her sleep. There will be time in the morning to go for the police."
"And easier to find our way, too," Wolfshy added.
Remo cast him a withering look.
"Well, anyone can get lost."
"Go to sleep," Remo said.
"What about those soldiers she was talking about?"
"They've probably given up the search. At least for tonight. I'll wake you if anybody comes."
"Aren't you going to sleep?"
"Not if you two continue this offensive chatter," Chiun screeched from the other side of the clearing. He was sitting in full lotus beneath a tree.
"Sorry," Wolfshy said. "I didn't know you were asleep. Your eyes were open. I guess that's Zen, huh? Like hearing the sound of one hand clapping." Sam grinned, pleased with himself.
"If you are not utterly silent within five seconds," Chiun said, "you will hear the sound of one hand tearing the tongue from your throat."
Wolfshy walked wordlessly to his sleeping bag. Remo took it from him. "For the girl," he whispered. The Indian curled near the dying fire as Remo carried the sleeping woman to the warm pallet.
The night was silent except for the chattering of small woodland animals. Remo lay beside Karen Lockwood, studying her face. It was bruised and cut, and her arms bore marks of beatings. What had she been through? What sort of men ran the prison at the top of the hill, and why?
Karen had said that all the prisoners were young women who'd been kidnaped. They believed their families had been destroyed. That had to account for the bodies found in the mesa, Remo figured. So the rash of unexplained murders Smith was so concerned about was only the beginning.
Remo looked through the woods up the rocky slope of the mountain. Somewhere atop that peak stood a fortress where a madman kept a harem of beautiful women, and then tortured and starved them. Whoever that man was, Remo was going to find him. As soon as the girl and the Indian were out of the way, Remo and Chiun would begin the search.
A twig snapped. From the lightness of the sound, Remo knew a man hadn't caused it, but Karen was up like a bolt, eyes wide open, mouth gasping in fear.
"It's all right," Remo said gently.
She pumped her legs out of her sleeping bag, oblivious to his reassurances. "They're coming," she said.
"No, they're not. Honest. It's just an animal or something."
Sweat was pouring down her face. Remo knew nothing would calm her now except hard evidence. "Look. I'll prove it, okay?"
He stalked silently into the woods. Karen listened. The young man with the thick wrists made no sound as he walked. Then a tree shuddered and there was a sudden commotion that made her feel as if her heart had just shot into her throat. A moment later, something came hurtling out of the shadows at her.
Karen screamed.
In a split second, Chiun was on his feet, in fighting position.
"Wazzat?" Sam Wolfshy said, blinking and snorting.
"A raccoon," Remo called, stepping out of the woods. "That's all it was, Karen. Just a raccoon."
As he spoke, a frightened, black-masked creature scuttled across the clearing and darted down the footpath.
"You have awakened me for a raccoon?" Chiun shouted.
"I'm sorry," Remo said. "Karen was afraid—"
"Silence!"
"Hey, what's going on?" Sam said, rubbing his eyes. "I heard… oof." He slid bonelessly down the trunk of a tree.
"Do you wish to speak again?" Chiun bellowed.
Sam shook his head earnestly.
"Then perhaps now we may get some rest." The old Oriental floated to the ground and resumed his lotus position.
"Come on," Remo said softly. He put his arm around Karen and led her back to her sleeping bag.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Guess I was just jumpy." A tear ran down her cheek.
"Don't cry," Remo said. "I can't take it."