by Theresa Hall
“What else is new?” Jackson regretted his words as soon as they were out of his mouth. He didn’t especially like Rusty Schmille’s leadership, but it wasn’t like Jackson to be crass with a superior.
“What’s that, Archer?”
“Nothing, sir. We’ll be in first thing in the morning.”
He hung up without letting the captain reply. There was something about Schmille that had always made Jackson leery of the man. There was an abrasiveness to the captain that he’d never grown accustomed to.
Jackson set his phone down on the table and propped his hands behind his head. Sleep would feel good. He hadn’t had much of it over the past few days. But real rest would have to wait until he got Allison to the station.
He closed his eyes and fought to ignore the fact that a woman was in his house.
* * *
Allison’s eyes popped open. Her heart slammed against her chest. Had she heard something? Jackson’s house was like a fortress, and there weren’t any neighbors around for at least a mile. It was probably a bad dream or something. She lay still as she gave her heart a chance to settle back into a normal rhythm. It must have been a bad dream.
Speaking of bad dreams, right now her life was a living nightmare. Now that she was wide-awake, she fought to push back the reality of what was happening.
She closed her eyes and tried to pray, but a sob lodged in her throat. This wasn’t a time to be vulnerable or to melt down. Praying to God meant baring her soul and letting it all out. She hoped He understood, but right now, she couldn’t even talk to God about the things that were happening without falling apart. She whispered a short prayer. “You know what’s on my heart, Lord. Please keep me safe and let this end soon.”
A noise quieted her before she could finish. A thud on the outside wall near the bedroom window echoed through the room.
Allison bolted up. This wasn’t her imagination. She waited to hear it again. The silence frightened her as much as the noise had. Maybe Jackson had heard it, too. She fought to steady her breathing and reached for her phone with a trembling hand. She realized she didn’t have his number. Come on, Allison. It’s nothing.
She lay back down and closed her eyes as sleep overcame her again.
A hand closed over her mouth. She tried to scream, but the force on her face was too tight. This time, she wasn’t dreaming. She kicked and clawed at the attacker. Where was Jackson? Allison ached to call out to him for help. The hand covering her mouth slipped and she took her chance to yell his name. As soon as his name passed her lips, pain seared through her head. Her body felt limp, and then her world went dark.
* * *
Jackson was on his feet holding his pistol before he was sure of what was happening. Something had awakened him. He thought he had heard a noise, but he couldn’t be sure if he’d dreamed it or not. He ran to the stairs with his gun drawn. As he passed the foyer, he glanced at the front door. It was shut and locked.
Jackson raced up the stairs and threw open each bedroom door as he passed. He flicked the light on in Natalie’s room. Pink and white blinded him as he looked inside. It was the first time he’d opened the door in three years. His legs buckled, and he fought to remain standing. Unbearable pain shattered his heart at the sight of the large dollhouse and the gigantic stuffed white bear sitting next to it.
He slammed the door and moved on. His hand trembled as he reached out to open the next bedroom door. Jackson threw it open and flipped on the light. It was the first time he’d been in there since before the accident. Baby-blue walls and a sports-themed rug lying in front of a crib reminded him of even more that he’d lost. The name “Jacob” hung over the changing table. A shopping bag with brand-new baby items sat in the rocking chair. Never to be used.
Tears burned his eyes. He fought to keep his composure as he scanned the room. Confident no one was in there, he turned off the light and shut the door. He’d never go in there again.
Allison’s door was last. So far it appeared that no one had been inside the house. After all she’d been through, he hated to wake her up. She needed her rest. Still, he had to check on her to put his mind at ease. He opened the door without making a sound and peered inside. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her.
“Allison,” he whispered.
Something caught his eye across the room. He pointed his gun toward the window. The shadow moved again in the darkness. He inched closer to the bed where Allison lay sleeping. If someone was behind the curtain, they were as good as dead.
He didn’t want to startle her, but he needed her to wake up. Jackson felt the bed. His hand searched for the feel of her leg as he inched it farther up the bed. Nothing. He walked to the window. A cold breeze seeped around the flapping fabric of the curtain.
She was gone.
Jackson flipped on the light to reveal an empty bed. He threw the blankets back to search for any signs of a struggle. Small drops of blood dotted the sheets. A sick feeling washed over him.
He’d failed her.
Just like he’d failed his own family.
Jackson checked all the doors in the house to see how they’d escaped with Allison. After looking in his own room, it was obvious they had entered through the balcony in the master bedroom on the other side of the house. Hope had insisted on installing a set of stairs leading up to it because her home had burned down when she was ten. She’d almost been caught in the fire. He’d conceded because of her fears, even though he didn’t like the idea of having outside access to their bedroom.
He always made sure the balcony doors stayed locked. Regardless of the excuses, Allison was still gone. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to her.
Even though guilt was no stranger to him, for once in his life he wished he could actually save someone.
One way or another, he would find her.
ELEVEN
The bag on her head smelled horrid. She wiggled her jaw to loosen the rag from her mouth, but it wouldn’t budge. Nausea gripped her. She swallowed hard to fight it back down. She had to stay calm. If she wanted to make it out of this alive, she was going to have to forget about being afraid. She thought of Jackson. Had he even realized she was missing?
How had they gotten past him? Her mind raced to find answers, but nothing made sense. She struggled to kick her feet and move her arms. Whoever had grabbed her in the darkness hadn’t walked away unscathed. She’d punched as hard as she could when the bag had been shoved over her head. The blow she received in return had knocked her unconscious. Two hits to the head in the past few days couldn’t be good. She wondered how much longer she could keep this up.
The zip ties on her wrists were cutting into her skin, but the ones on her ankles felt loose enough to wriggle out of. She felt around blindly to see if there was anything next to her on the seat. She didn’t know if anyone was watching her or even where she was at. If she broke loose, would the consequences be worse?
“What are we going to do with her?”
Allison stilled. She forced her breathing to stop as she listened to the voices. The second voice had a thick Hispanic accent, but she could easily understand him. The first guy was definitely from Texas. His thick drawl was familiar, but his voice wasn’t.
“We don’t have orders to do anything with her. We have to wait.”
“That’s loco. We should be able to do whatever we want, and then kill her. I’m hungry, Tex. Can’t we stop to eat?
Allison fought to keep a whimper from escaping.
“Calderón hasn’t told us what to do yet! You’ll follow directions, or else you’ll end up dead, too.”
“Whatever, man. This is nuts. We kidnapped her like he told us to. We should be able to eat now. Besides, it’s not like Calderón will know.”
“You’re crazy, amigo. You know that?” Tex was clearly agitated with his friend.
Alliso
n heard the other man mumble something in Spanish. She’d learned a little of the language from working with Avery, but she couldn’t decipher anything from what he’d said.
“What’s that, tough guy? You’re gonna kill me, too?” Obviously, Tex understood.
The other man’s laugh echoed around her. She guessed they were in a big truck, maybe an eighteen-wheeler. The bumps and jars didn’t feel like an average vehicle.
Allison heard the distinct click of a bullet being chambered into a pistol. A sound she hadn’t known until this week but knew all too well now. A chill ran down her back. If they were going to kill her, at least she wouldn’t know it was coming. She could only pray it would be fast and that it would only take one shot. It would be better if she never knew what hit her.
“Hilarious,” Tex said.
Laughter filled the truck. “Sorry, Tex. I’ve always been told I have a strange sense of humor, amigo, but you might want to get that gun out of my face before I show you how strange my temper can be.”
“Let’s see how funny you are when you’re six feet under the ground like that lady cop. Wasn’t that you who did that? You killed her?”
“Guilty,” the man replied, his tone smug and icy.
Tears sprang into her eyes. How could she have missed it? It was the man from the truck! She had to get out of there. But how? Only God could help her now. She called out to him with every fiber in her body.
Dear God, I still have so many things left to do in this life. I’m not ready for this. I need Your help to get out of here. If they catch me, please make it quick. Don’t let them torture me or leave me in pain. Amen.
She didn’t know how her prayer turned from asking to live to begging for a painless death. Whatever happened to her now was completely out of her control. God was all she had in this moment. God was all she’d ever had to get her through life, and she knew He was with her now.
She thought about Jackson and how he was filled with so much anger and grief. She thought about Maddie, her nieces and her parents. How would they handle this? Now wasn’t the time to be thinking this way. It was time to fight for her life. As futile as it may be, she had to try. She listened again to the deranged men and their evil conversations. They were still arguing.
“One thing you need to get straight, uh...mee...go, is I ain’t scared of you. I could kill you right now.”
His drawl was exaggerated and seemed fake. If she had to guess, he wasn’t the smarter of the two or the most dangerous.
The truck slowed to a stop, and they both got out without saying another word. This was her chance. She tried to stand but lost her balance. She had to get her bearings, or this wouldn’t work. She sat back down to allow the dizziness to pass, but she knew she had to hurry.
This time she slid off the seat and landed on her knees. She bent over. In a quick movement, using all the strength she could muster, she banged her hands against her lower back.
Nothing happened.
It had worked like a charm in her self-defense class. She inhaled a deep breath from inside the dirty bag, forcing herself to ignore the stench. Again, she raised her hands as high as she could behind her back. Her hands smashed down against her body.
The zip tie broke free.
She hurried to remove the bag from her head and pulled the nasty rag from her mouth. She looked around. Her instincts had been right. She was in the sleeper of an eighteen-wheeler. Florescent lights illuminated the small space. Guns were piled around her feet. Pistols, assault rifles, shotguns and boxes of ammunition lay scattered across the floorboard.
A banging noise came from behind the truck. Allison quickly put the bag on her head, placed her hands behind her back and listened. After a few seconds had passed, she felt convinced they weren’t getting back into the truck yet. She took the bag off.
There had to be something around the truck that she could use to cut the zip ties off her feet. Since she wasn’t wearing shoes, the shoestring trick she’d learned in her self-defense classes wouldn’t work.
Fast-food trash lay scattered around her. The stench was revolting. She pushed some garbage out of the way and scanned the floorboard for something to use, taking care not to touch the guns. She spotted a piece of wire sticking out from under the seat of the truck. After a few yanks, it broke.
Allison looped the wire under the zip tie and frantically pulled it back and forth until the plastic snapped.
She was free.
The only thing left to do now was get out of the truck before getting caught. She was glad to see the front seat was cleaner than the back seat, which gave her an easier path to escape. Allison climbed over the custom-made wooden console and plopped down behind the steering wheel. The keys were hanging from the ignition. There was the proof that not all criminals were smart.
She took the keys and shoved them into the pocket of her sweatpants, then picked up a handgun from the back seat. Her hand trembled as she stared at it. Just pull the trigger. Jackson’s words echoed in her head. Could she really shoot someone? Allison released the clip the way Jackson had done it. It bounced off her leg and landed onto the console with a thwack. She snatched it up and popped it back into the gun. At least it was full. She slid the weapon into the band of her sweatpants, then rolled the waistband down a few times to make a pocket, hoping it wouldn’t fall out.
She reached to open the door and stopped. Opening the door meant the cab light would come on and they would see her. There had to be a way to turn it off. The dashboard of the big semi was covered with more gadgets and buttons than she had time to study. Time was running out. She had to get out of there. Her mind raced to figure out an escape plan.
Allison noticed the driver’s window cracked, so she rolled it down the rest of the way. Her head ached and her wrists stung where the zip ties had cut her, but she ignored the pain. She hoisted a leg out of the window and slid down the door, praying no one would see her. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she heard them.
“Hey!”
Allison didn’t wait to see who had yelled at her. She bolted from the truck, racing across the parking lot. Rocks cut into her feet and the stitches in her knee burned with every step.
More yelling came from behind her. Without thinking, she yanked the gun from her waistband and headed for a grove of trees behind the store. Footsteps grew louder. Angry male voices yelled profanity at her as they drew closer. She would never make it to the trees. Allison spotted a couple of green trash dumpsters behind the store. She raced behind them and leaned against one, sucking in gasps of air to steady her breathing. Allison stared down at the gun in her hand.
Just pull the trigger.
Heavy footsteps vibrated the ground. She lifted the gun, pulled the slide back and aimed. He emerged from the shadows, and they locked eyes. Nausea gripped her stomach as she stared at him. She noticed the same beard, same greasy ponytail and same deep wrinkles in his face she’d seen that night on the highway. It was the second time in the past few days she’d encountered him.
He slowly raised both hands into the air, still holding his gun.
Staring at the gun in her own hand, she told herself she didn’t have a choice. He’d already tried to kill her once. She knew he was going to follow through if she didn’t shoot first. Tears filled her eyes.
“Don’t shoot her!”
Footsteps and shouting jarred her back to reality. Allison turned and bolted toward the trees in the distance. Her feet screamed with pain as she flew across large white rocks.
“Stop!”
She zigzagged her way through the skinny mesquite trees. Her foot landed on a sharp stone causing her knees to buckle from the pain.
“Stop running!”
Allison stifled a cry and fought to stand up. Moonlight allowed her to see that she was bleeding.
“I’m not going to hurt you!”
There wa
s that same slow drawl. It was Tex. Did he only want to kill her himself? Is that why he’d stopped the other man?
Fear moved her as she continued to lose distance between them. If he came any closer, she’d have to find the courage to protect herself. Shooting a man wasn’t something she wanted to think about, but dying wasn’t, either.
Allison limped over a bed of rocks and hid behind a mound of low-growing cactus. She couldn’t go any farther. Her feet were bleeding and sore. One more step would be one too many.
The sound of Tex’s voice grew louder. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Was he really that dumb? Allison lifted her weapon and braced her soul for what was about to happen.
Tex turned around to scan the woods for any sight of her. He aimed a flashlight at the ground, then bent over to take a closer look. His head popped up and he focused on the woods where she hid. “Come on out. I can see you’re hurt and bleeding.”
Allison’s hand shook as she kept the gun aimed at him.
He stood up. “Come on, ma’am. I promise I won’t hurt you. I’m not who you think I am.” He started walking toward her. Either he thought she was the stupid one, or he was as dumb as he sounded. Her heart pounded in her ears. A few more steps and he’d be able to reach out and grab her. Her hand trembled under the weight of the gun. She aimed at the treetops above his head and fired.
Tex pulled a weapon from his side and aimed it at her. Allison turned and ran. Without looking back, she went as far as she could until her bleeding feet forbid her to take another step.
She ran until she was certain she couldn’t hear anyone behind her. Allison sat on a large rock to nurse the cuts. The temperature was freezing again but at least it wasn’t sleeting.
She gazed up at the sky to see the sun peeking over the horizon. The approaching dawn gave her a sense of hope. Asking why this was happening to her was a moot point. She no longer cared why. All she knew was God had carried her this far and He’d take care of her now.
