by Nancy Isaak
Meanwhile, Rhys and Laura had prepared a couple of cans of tomato soup over a can of Sterno, adding thin slices of Spam for added flavor. We all sat in the living room, sipping the soup and talking quietly. I could tell that everyone was nervous—afraid of what we might be going up against in Ojai.
When she wasn’t looking my way, I studied Cherry. She didn’t seem any different, but I did notice that there was a dark bruise at the side of her forehead that I hadn’t seen before. Every now and again, she would touch it gently, as if it was painful to her.
By the time lunch was finished, I still wasn’t certain about Cherry’s condition.
But I was about Andrei’s.
Over the last twenty-four hours, his coughing had been increasing. As we ate lunch, Andrei had to excuse himself three times, leaving the room for coughing fits. He looked exhausted and there were purplish circles under his eyes. At one point, I even saw him gasp, as if struggling to take a deep breath of air.
Sadly, I had seen all these symptoms before—with Kieran and Porter.
* * * *
I had a short talk with Jude, Rhys, and Laura—just before we left for Ojai—wanting to let them know of my plan.
“That will make everything so much harder,” complained Rhys. “Especially since there will be three guys waiting.”
“Makes sense, though,” said Jude.
“I’m small, but I’ll fight, too,” Laura assured me. “I just need a gun. And if you don’t want to give me a gun, I’ll use my knife.”
“Don’t worry,” I told her. “We’ve got no problem with you having a gun. Rhys will teach you how to use it on the way to Ojai.”
“Everything’s ready to go.” Topher came into the living room with Andrei and Cherry. While Andrei immediately plunked himself down on a couch, stifling a cough behind his hand, Cherry sat down heavily in a chair next to the window.
She looked out at the rain that was just beginning to fall. “Rain’s tumble,” she said.
“What?” I asked, confused. Beside me, Jude tensed, her instincts going on full alert.
“Rain’s falling,” Cherry said, still looking out of the window.
Jude touched my arm. “Makes total damn sense,” she muttered, softly to me. “We definitely go with your plan.”
* * * *
“But I don’t understand,” complained Cherry, a short while later. “Why don’t you want us to come with you? You’re going to need our help. I mean, it’s three big guys you’re going after.”
“I already told you. I want you and Andrei to head back to where we left Connor and Ian. There’s some medicine you need to take to him. I’m worried about Ian. If he’s gotten worse, he’ll need the meds.”
“But why do I have to go?” she continued. “If you’re sending Topher, he can go back with Andrei.”
“I want you three to go together,” I said. “You’ll take Laura’s horse with you. She’s going to use your bike. You and Andrei will be on the horse and Topher will pull one of the trailers behind his bike.”
“It just doesn’t seem right,” muttered Cherry.
“What doesn’t seem right, is you fighting me on this. I need you guys to get these meds back to Connor and we need to get going if we’re going to make Ojai before nightfall.”
Cherry looked to Jude for help. There was none there; Jude had her arms crossed and was looking down at the ground.
“Fine,” groused Cherry, giving up. “I’ll go get Andrei.”
As she walked away, Topher took her spot; apparently it was his turn to complain. “I’m not an idiot,” he said, angrily. “You’re sending Andrei back because he’s sick. I’m not sure why you’re sending Cherry—”
“Because I think there might be something wrong with her—because of the river-thing and when she hit her head. She’s talking weird and there are some bruises that are worrying me,” I explained. “I need Connor to look at her as soon as possible.”
Topher nodded. “Okay, well…that makes sense. But why me? I’m not sick and I didn’t wind up in the river.”
“That’s why,” I told him. “Because you’re fine. Because if something happens to Cherry along the way—she passes out or becomes confused…and if Andrei gets sicker and goes unconscious—I need you there to protect them. To get them to Connor. That’s why you’re going. Because I trust you to save them if they need saving.”
“It’s also why you’re taking the horse,” added Jude. “Because, if worse comes to worst, and they’re both down, you can sling them over the horse and get them to Connor that way.”
Topher nodded, thinking about it. Then, he looked up at Jude, slyly. “You should kiss me good-bye. To send me on my way.”
Jude grinned. “In your dreams, baby-boy.” Then, she slugged him in the arm and walked away.
“Almost as good.” Topher rubbed at the spot where she had hit him. “Don’t let her get hurt, okay, Jacob? I want Jude to come back.”
“That girl’s too tough not to come back,” I said.
* * * *
Cherry took the reins of Laura’s horse, while Andrei sat behind her. He didn’t look good; his face was flushed and he leaned his forehead against Cherry’s back. Meanwhile, Topher rode up beside them, towing a half-full bike trailer behind him.
“You remember the way, right?” I asked him, when he stopped.
Topher nodded. “It won’t be a problem.”
“You’ll also need to stop at the house where we stored the medicine, pick up what I think Connor will need.”
“I’ve got the list you wrote out.” Topher held up a piece of paper. “Whatever space we have left, we’ll fill it with meds from the ‘take’ pile.”
“Good.” I turned to Cherry. “No galloping…just walk. You don’t want Andrei puking down your back from jostling too much.”
“I’m…fine,” whispered Andrei, not lifting up his head.
I pulled out a plastic bag from my backpack and shoved it between Cherry and him. “Some comic books,” I told Andrei. “For you and Ian to read while you’re recuperating.”
He managed a slight smile, thanking me. However, I noticed that he didn’t pick up the bag and check out the comic books. If anything told me that Andrei was really sick—that was it.
In front of him, meanwhile, Cherry was still touching the bruise on the side of her forehead. She kept probing it with her fingers, as if measuring it.
“Your head bothering you?” I asked.
“Bed hurts a little,” she admitted. “He’ll be okay.”
I nodded, as if what she had just said made sense. Then, I turned to Topher and clapped him on the back. “Get them there safely,” I urged him. “As soon as possible.”
* * * *
Rhys, Jude, Laura, and I stood in the middle of the road, watching until Cherry, Andrei, and Topher had disappeared from sight.
When I looked over at Jude, she sighed, unhappy. “Bed hurts a little—Cherry’s getting worse.”
“She has aphasia,” explained Laura. “My grandpa had it just before he died. It’s like she knows what she’s saying, but she can’t get the right words out.”
“Cherry hurt her head,” I told her. “We’re sending her to someone who might be able to help.”
“I hope so…she’s really nice.”
* * * *
The rain began again—when we turned onto CA-33. This was the route to Ojai, a winding highway that extended up into the mountains. As we biked along, Laura talked to us of the three guys who had held her prisoner—preparing us for what we were up against.
“Jeremy is the biggest. He’s like over six feet and kind of fat,” she told us. “But he’s pretty slow and I don’t think he’s really that smart. Usually he has this big knife that he carries in this holder in his boot.”
“No gun?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I never saw one on him. But he carries a rifle with him when he goes to take care of the horses.”
“Where is he usually in the hous
e?” asked Rhys.
“I was mostly kept in the basement,” said Laura. “But, like I listened to their steps so I kind of know where they went. Jeremy, he has this room right over my head, but to the left—so I think that means he sleeps in the back of the house.”
“On the left—as in when you’re facing the house?” I asked.
Laura nodded. “And Pete, I’m pretty sure, is sleeping on the second floor—only I’m not sure where. I could only hear his footsteps half way up the staircase. But I know he went up there a lot.” She had to slow her bike for a moment, to allow her to wipe the tears from her eyes. “Pete took Mia up there mostly. She’s been up there a week now. Still hasn’t come down.”
“Do you think she’s still alive?” asked Jude.
“I hope so.”
“What does Pete look like?” I asked.
“He’s blond and has freckles and he’s kind of short,” Laura said, “like maybe only two inches taller than me.”
“Which would, what—make him around 5’4”?”
She nodded. “But he’s real mean. Like he’s always pinching us when he talks to us. And, sometimes, he comes down in the basement just to beat on us.”
“Freaking sadist,” growled Jude.
“But he’s not the worst,” warned Laura. “That’s Diego. He’s got black hair and this stupid moustache and he’s maybe an inch shorter than Jeremy. Whatever you do, you gotta’ get him. He’s the one who leads them…tells them what to do.”
“Let me ask you this Laura,” I said. “Did you see any tattoos on them, like maybe on their backs? Maybe like a giant ‘A’?”
“I didn’t see any tattoos on any of them.”
“Not on their backs…you’re certain?”
She shook her head, looking very ashamed. “There are no tattoos.”
* * * *
It took us four hours to reach our destination.
The prison-house was an enormous A-frame cabin, at the very top of a mountain that overlooked Ojai. There were pine trees all around it—taller than you usually see in California—and a small creek ran along one side. Situated at the end of a road, there was only one route in and out. I could see why the guys had chosen the house; it was an ideal hideout, a place where you could keep girls who could scream and where no one would come looking.
“They had three horses,” whispered Laura, “but I stole one.”
We were hiding at the far end of the property, behind a line of stacked-up firewood. In front of us was a small barn, with two horses in an attached corral; the actual house was on the other side, facing the road that ran in front of it.
“That house looks really solid,” said Rhys. “How did you get away?”
Laura pointed. “You see that window right there? The small one that’s right at ground level. It goes to the basement.”
“You got out there?” I asked, surprised. “But that window is so tiny.”
She held up her hand, letting the arm of her jacket fall down to expose her skeletal wrist. “I didn’t used to be so small. They don’t feed us much. Sometimes, not for days.”
“Love the irony,” said Jude, grimly. “They freaking made it so you could escape.”
“I wanted to bring Farrah with me, but she couldn’t fit through the window. She’s younger than me, but she’s bigger.” Laura clenched and unclenched her fists, nervously. “I promised her I’d come back and get her…I promised.”
“When will they feed the horses?” I asked.
“Jeremy does it, usually just after it gets dark.”
“And only him?”
“Usually.”
* * * *
I hated that Jude and Laura were determined to take Jeremy out by themselves.
“It’s the smart move,” Jude insisted. “We take out the knucklehead while he’s taking care of the horses. Then, there are only two of them left inside of the house for you guys to get.”
When I looked over at Laura, she held up the revolver Rhys had given her. “Don’t worry. I’m not scared…I’ll shoot.”
“I know you will,” I said. “What I’m worried about is that he’s so big.”
“But he’s stupid,” said Jude. “Laura said so. So, that will work in our favor.”
Beside her, Laura nodded eagerly.
Giving up, I sighed. “Okay, then…but we’re making a deal. Anything happens, you get in any trouble…you guys call out for us. Even if it means messing up the rescue, you call for us. And, if you can’t call, then shoot your gun—four times—one right after the other. That will be our signal that you need help.”
“We’ll be fine,” grinned Jude, putting her arm around Laura. “We’re just two girls taking out the trash.”
* * * *
The plan was for Jude to surprise Jeremy while he was leaning down into the feed bin, portioning out oats for the two horses. Over the last five and a half months, Laura had watched through the small basement window how—every dusk—Jeremy would lay his rifle against the barn wall. Then, he would take down a big scoop that hung on the wall and use it to measure out the oats from the large feed bin next to him.
With the rifle out of Jeremy’s hands, Jude felt that that would be her chance to take him out. She would hide in the empty stall next to the feed bin; Laura would be in the stall on the opposite side.
Between the two of them, they were certain they could handle the big guy.
I, however, wasn’t so certain.
* * * *
Keeping to the tree line, Rhys and I crept around the A-frame.
There were muddy boots outside of the front door and some wet clothes hanging from a nearby line. I wondered if the clothes had gotten wet from the rain or if someone inside had actually washed them.
On the far side of the house, I noticed an old coal chute leading down into the basement; its wood was dry and warped, curling up on one of the edges.
“Over there,” I nudged Rhys. “We need to check that out, see if we can get in there.”
“Do you want to go now or wait?”
“Let’s wait until that Jeremy guy comes out to take care of the horses. Then, we’ll go.”
No sooner had I said those words, then the front door opened and a large, doofus of a guy walked out. He was wearing jeans and a plaid shirt and, in his hands, he held a long rifle.
Beside me, Rhys suddenly hissed. “I want that rifle!”
“Quiet!” I told him. “He’s the girls’ problem, not ours. We have to get in that basement…now!”
Laura had said that the other two guys tended to go upstairs to ‘entertain’ themselves while Jeremy was taking care of the horses. Sometimes, they pulled all three girls upstairs—sometimes, just two of them.
However, Mia—the eldest of the girls—never came down from the upstairs bedrooms.
“That’s where you’ll find her,” Laura had told us. “I’m certain of it.”
* * * *
The moment we saw Jeremy unhook and open the corral gate, Rhys and I sprinted across the backyard, skidding to a stop near the coal chute, where we hid behind a garbage can. We figured that we had maybe five minutes to get into the house and find the two guys. During that time, Jeremy would be leading the horses over to the creek and letting them have their fill. When he brought them back into the corral—that would be when he fed them.
“Did he see us?” I asked Rhys.
My brother shook his head. He was peeking out from behind the garbage can, making sure that Jeremy hadn’t seen us run across the yard.
“Kid is hooking these ropes onto the horses’ halters,” Rhys told me.
I turned around and moved over to the coal chute. It was a rectangle—about six feet by four—covered by a padlocked wooden door. Quietly, I reached out and pulled on the lock; it stood firm.
“Dammit,” I whispered.
“He’s leading the horses down to the creek now,” Rhys said, quietly. “If we can’t get the lock undone, should we find another way in?”
“Not necessarily. Hand me your hunting knife.”
Undoing the big knife at his belt, Rhys passed it to me, then went back to watching Jeremy. “He’s at the creek now, letting them drink.”
“Just keep watching. I need to get this padlock off.”
“I thought you said that the lock was too strong.”
“It is,” I said. “But not the wood around it.”
I jammed the knife under the edge of the hasp—where it held one side of the lock down with four rusted nails. Using the knife like a lever, I pressed down hard. Immediately, the hasp tilted upward—the nails rising easily.
“That’s genius!” said Rhys, impressed.
With a sudden pop, the hasp fell out of the wood—lock and nails included. I left it attached on the other side, however, merely pushing it out of my way.
“Where’s he now?” I asked.
“Still at the creek. But I can see Jude. She keeps popping up out of her stall and looking over here.”
“Girl is going to get us killed. It’d be just our luck that one of the other two are looking out of a window.”
Slowly, I lifted the door of the coal chute. It creaked a little, but not as much as I thought it would. When I’d lifted it a foot, I motioned to Rhys. “Come on!”
* * * *
It was pitch black in the basement.
I took out a small tea candle and lit it, looking around. Unfortunately, the candle’s light didn’t penetrate very far; all I could see was a pile of boxes and a tool table in the corner.
“We need to hurry,” I whispered. “The kid should be bringing the horses back into the corral by now. We have to find Farrah and Mia before the other two know we’re here.”
“Where’s the steps?” Rhys asked. “The ones leading upstairs.”
