THE ABDUCTION OF CASSANDRA

by William Melden

  He moved around the bed and sat down next to her. She reached out and took his hand in hers. “Um, Brandon . . . you’ve seen me jump on the Goth, and heard me scream and cry and lots of things. But right now, if you can stand it, I’m gonna sing. I thought about this song from way back. . . . Okay?” He dipped his head in a small nod.

  The night was split with another peal of thunder. Softly, clasping the boy’s hand, Cassie began to sing:

  “Steal away, steal away, steal away to Jesus.

  Steal away, steal away home,

  I ain’t got long to stay here.

  “My Lord, He calls me,

  He calls me by the thunder.

  The trumpet sounds within my soul,

  I ain’t got long to stay here.”

  She squeezed his hand again, lightly humming the old tune, as they waited.

  * * * * *

  11:45 PM EDT: “I don’t see anybody outside, at least in front,” Celeste said, keeping her voice low. “Go around the side, Roy. Stay as close to the building as you can.” He inched the van forward, turning to the right, heading for the back of the hangar. “See there?” she said. “That’s the door where I saw that person come out. Keep going, all the way to the other side.”

  “Gotcha,” Roy replied, turning to the left. Now they were at the back of the hangar. “I don’t see any doors back here,” he observed. “Just pavement and weeds.”

  They made the final turn to the far side of the building, and Roy braked. Olivia and Ethan leaned forward, everyone staring at what lay before them: a steel staircase bolted to the side of the hangar, with a small landing at the top, and a closed metal door. Ten or fifteen yards away sat two automobiles: a silver-colored luxury sedan and a black compact. Roy turned on his flashlight and trained it on the backs of the cars. The sedan had a Virginia license plate, but the compact bore a plate from Arizona. Ethan squinted at the dark car. “It’s a rental,” he said. “I can see the sticker.” Roy turned off the light.

  “That’s the car I saw that night!” Celeste exclaimed.

  “Shhh,” Roy cautioned. “Keep it down. . . . I think we should go back to the door on the other side. The one where Celeste saw the person leave. If we try to get in on this side, they might hear us coming up the stairs.”

  “Makes sense,” Olivia agreed, as Roy tugged the steering wheel and made the slowest, narrowest turnaround he could manage. Night turned to day as the lightning flashed again, but the accompanying thunder covered the sound of the van. Roy eased around the hangar and parked, the rear of the van about ten feet from the side door.

  “This is it,” he announced, cutting the engine. “First things first. Ethan, you’re fastest. Are you ready to take care of those cars?”

  “Uh-huh,” the boy replied. He adjusted his cap and reached in the smaller bag, withdrawing a wooden-handled ice pick. He quietly opened one of the rear doors and hopped out. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered.

  Olivia prayed and clasped her hands, willing herself to keep still. For once, she wore no jewelry, except for the anklet she’d been given. Gabriel Terrena had said that it had no power, and she didn’t think of it as a lucky charm, but it was precious to her, and an encouragement. Roy and Celeste both kept their eyes on the hangar door, half expecting an army of thugs to rush out at any moment. Although it seemed like he was gone for an hour, Ethan was back within two minutes, clambering up into the van.

  “Okay?” Roy asked.

  “Okay,” Ethan replied. “Whatever happens, they won’t be making any fast getaways. I didn’t do all eight wheels. I alternated ‘em so it would be harder to drive. Just flattened the front left and right rear tires. You can drive on your rims if you have to, but not this way.”

  Roy pushed open the driver’s door. He had already turned off the interior bulb, so it wouldn’t light up when the doors opened. “Like we planned. Celeste and me are gonna do the recon. I’ve been in hangars before, and she saw this whole thing to begin with. We’ll check it out. Meantime, you guys rig the skyrockets. Give us ten minutes. If we’re not back by then, come after us. Okay?”

  “Just be careful,” Olivia said.

  Roy and Celeste got out of the van. Closing her door, Celeste looked back in at her friends. “Whatever happens, we love y’all!”

  * * * * *

  Gabriel Terrena, unseen, unlocked the side door. He moved upstairs, touching each doorknob in turn, arriving at the black room last. When they heard the latch open, Cassie and Brandon looked up. Momentarily, they both wondered, Are they coming to kill us? Then Cassie remembered Terrena’s words: I will open the prison doors, as was done for Peter, long ago.

  She had once wondered if fear and anger could co-exist. Now, she marveled at the mixed sense of excitement and calm that overcame her. She gripped Brandon’s hand harder.

  Gabriel Terrena’s work was done here. Now it was up to Cassie and Brandon, just as it had once been up to Peter.

  * * * * *

  Roy gave the pyramid-shaped speaker to Celeste, and breathed a prayer as his gloved hand closed on the doorknob. It turned easily. He looked at Celeste and pushed the door open.

  He turned on the flashlight and surveyed the inside of the hangar. As he had expected, it was empty, except for a few rusted oil drums, an old propeller lying on the floor, and, sure enough, a dead raccoon gathering dust in a corner. “Nobody in sight down here,” he whispered. “Give me some more light, Celeste.” She stepped into the doorway with him and turned on her own flashlight. The two powerful halogen beams swept the old building.

  On their left, another steel staircase, like the one they’d seen outside, just a few feet away, leading to what must be the offices above. At the top of the stairway, a dim light shone through a crack under a wooden door. Hallway, Roy thought. Below those offices, a plain wall ran the length of the hangar, with three doors, probably leading to closets or storage space.

  “I’m goin’ upstairs,” he whispered. “You check those doors down there, and then come up.” Celeste didn’t want to be separated from him, but this was what they had to do. They were a team of individuals.

  He took the speaker back from her and tucked it under his arm, his free hand holding the flashlight, and began to ascend the staircase. She moved to the wall and crept toward the first door.

  She opened it and flashed her light inside. A long-unused bathroom, with stalls, urinals, and two small showers. But from the looks of things, nobody had been in the room for years. Strings of pink hand soap, now turned to a semi-solid goo, hung from the nozzles of the dispensers. She pulled the door shut and moved on.

  Halfway now. She opened the second door and was surprised to see what seemed to be an elevator, or at least a moving platform of some kind. It wasn’t completely at ground level, and she could see the gears underneath. Hydraulic lift, she realized. For moving stuff. Not a people elevator. An immense ball of razor wire sat on the platform. What on earth? She stuck her head inside the door and shone the beam upward. It seemed to go all the way to the hangar’s roof, or the ceiling of the hallway above, if that’s what it was. If it’s a hallway, why don’t they have that hole covered? If somebody fell in. . . . She had a sickening realization. If somebody fell in, they couldn’t escape. Is Cassie up there someplace? Does she know about the hole? I hope Roy sees it!

  She pulled her head out of the elevator, or whatever it was, and walked down to the final door. With more confidence, she opened it. A broom closet. And look at that! Ignoring the mop bucket and ancient paint cans that sat on the closet floor, along with some much newer cans of black and white paint, she brushed aside a cloud of cobwebs, and her gloved hand closed around the handle of a large push broom. As quietly as possible, she dislodged the bristles from the assorted debris on the floor, and lifted the broom out of the closet. God bless you, Ethan, she thought, wiping the dust off the handle. She held down the bristle end with one foot, and used both hands to unscrew the wooden rod. This thing’s nearly as long as I am tall. She had to pu
t down her flashlight for a moment to do it, but finally the handle began to turn, and then quickly came loose. She picked up the flashlight, gave the end of the hangar another quick glance, and then trotted back to the staircase, to look for Roy.

  11:50 PM EDT: Maclean finished her stretching exercises, and checked her makeup and hair in the mirror she’d brought from the apartment. She zipped up her jacket to cover her mouth. If we’re going to play the game out, let’s do it in style, she thought. Skip’s final appearance. One night only. Eldon Dayle, Brandon Fox, and the Hixson family cordially invited. She dropped the extra cartridge clips into the side pockets of her jacket, and slipped the pistol into the waistband of her leather pants, its butt nestled against the small of her back. She straightened her jacket and suddenly let go an awful, croaking giggle. The Goth’s last stand. When Señorita Tamora de Babilonia, Queen of the Goths, makes her debut in Andorra, she’ll look far more ladylike.

  She stepped into the hidden passageway to Dayle’s office.

  * * * * *

  11:54 PM EDT: Olivia crouched near the van beside Ethan, watching him twisting the wires from the electric timer he’d made to the long fuse. They had set out a dozen large skyrockets around the front and side of the hangar, each in a heavy cardboard tube about the size of a large paint can, connected to a long, waterproof fuse. When they joined the others for the “attack,” he’d set the timer. Five minutes later, an electric spark would ignite the fuse, and as it burned its way down the line, the rockets would streak two hundred feet into the night sky at nearly a hundred fifty miles per hour, finally exploding in a loud burst of multi-colored fire, showering a fountain of sparks to the ground below. Even in a thunderstorm, the men and women in the Control Tower a mile away couldn’t miss it.

  “I think that’s got it,” Ethan said, sitting back on his haunches to inspect his work. “They’re really more like mortars than skyrockets. Boy, they were heavy when I had ‘em crammed in that bag. . . . Of course, it’s illegal for me to even have this stuff, but I know a guy —”

  “You’re brilliant,” Olivia interrupted, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. He turned his face to hers.

  “Get a room, guys,” Celeste said, as she and Roy walked up behind them. “Or, I should say, let’s all go get a room. And Cassie.” She held up the broom handle for Ethan to see, and told them what she’d seen in the hangar.

  “We need to be careful upstairs,” Roy said. “Listen up, everybody. It’s a long hallway. Hardly any light, four or five bulbs hangin’ down, maybe twenty-five watts each. There are doors along the left side, and one at the very end. I don’t know how big the rooms are, or if they’re connected.” He looked back at the hangar. “There’s more space up there than I thought. It must take up about a quarter of the building, right?” He looked at Celeste.

  “That’s what it looked like from downstairs,” she agreed.

  “I didn’t see or hear anybody,” he continued, “but I saw light coming from under one of the doors, the one at the very end. We don’t know if Cassie’s in there, but the kidnappers probably are, and we need to deal with them first. Now, listen,” he repeated. “I left the speaker at the very top of the stairs, so don’t trip over it. Use your lights. We gotta go single file, or two by two. It’s a narrow hallway. But there’s a problem. Tell ‘em, babe.” She told them about the hole in the floor, and the strange, sharp metallic ball at the bottom of the shaft.

  “That hole’s about halfway down the hall, before you get to any of the doors,” Roy said. “If you fall into it, you’ll get cut real bad.” He thought of the dimensions of the boxing ring at the gym. “I figure it for about five feet across. Maybe one of y’all could jump it, but I sure couldn’t, with this leg.”

  “I’m not sure any of us could,” Celeste added. “But I’ve got an idea. Ethan, would you please help Roy?”

  “Sure. What are we doing?” He and Olivia were already standing. He had rolled the bungee cords into a long loop and hung them around his shoulder.

  Roy led him to the back of the van. “Help me get this thing out,” he said, leaning in and taking hold of the end of the coffin lid.

  “Oh, perfect!” Ethan whispered. He was helping Roy pull the lid out, when Celeste hurried to meet them.

  “Wait! Don’t take it anywhere yet. Remember why we brought it.” She hopped into the back of the van, and when Roy and Ethan had gotten the lid into position as a ramp, she carefully rolled the bike down to the ground. “Thanks,” she said, putting down the kickstand, still holding the broom handle in one hand. “When we get upstairs, I’ll give this to you,” she said to Ethan. “You’re the one who knows how to use it.”

  “Is everybody set?” Roy asked. “Okay, let’s go. Me and Ethan first.” He felt in his pocket and pulled out a quarter. “You two stay at the foot of the stairs. When we get that hole covered, I’ll toss this down the stairs, to let you know it’s done. Then you come join us, okay?” The girls both nodded.

  “Wait a sec,” Ethan said. He sprinted around the van and set the timer fuse. Five minutes, he thought. Keep your eyes peeled, Control Tower guys! He rejoined the group and picked up his end of the lid.

  The group moved inside the hangar. Ethan hung his duffel bag over the same shoulder as the bungee cords, and took his end of the coffin lid under the other, holding it sideways against his body. He moved up the staircase, pausing at every step. Because Roy was stronger, he took the bottom position, bearing the brunt of the lid’s weight, ascending the staircase with the younger boy. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, their movements were almost perfectly synchronized.

  Once they reached the top, they both aimed their flashlight beams down the hall. No one was in sight. They moved down the hall quickly, Ethan watching each step, looking for the hole. When he saw it, he knelt down and began to slide the coffin lid across. Roy couldn’t kneel, but he bent over and pushed the lid as Ethan guided it. It made a perfect walkway over the hole — as long as nobody knocked it out of place. Straightening up, Roy rolled the coin down the hall, where it clattered down the metal staircase.

  As thunder rumbled outside, the girls joined them. Olivia bent over and plugged the tiny MP3 player into the speaker. Celeste had programmed two minutes of silence before the first song in the playlist. She pressed “Play” and stood up.

  Celeste handed the broom handle to Ethan as Roy slipped around him, taking the lead. The group moved single file down the hall, stepping carefully across the coffin lid: Roy, Ethan, and Olivia, with Celeste taking the rear position.

  Without warning, a mote of the dust that constantly swirled through the old hangar made its way to one of Olivia’s sinuses, causing her to suddenly sneeze. “Ah-cheep!” The others froze, then looked at her, wondering if anyone had heard. She blushed, silently swearing at her dumb allergies. After 30 seconds had gone by, the group decided that they were safe, and began moving again.

  They reached the door at the end of the hallway and Roy took the knob in his hand. He looked at the others. This was the moment. If Cassie was in here, they’d go no further. “Don’t open it until the music starts,” Olivia whispered. “Remember Gideon and Joshua. And Cassie will know help is coming.” They waited for the sound.

  * * * * *

  Cassie looked at Brandon, her eyes shining. “They’re not coming in! But the door’s unlocked. Let’s go.” She stood up and smiled at him. He stood and put his arms around her, hugging her tight, wanting to protect her, to thank her, to survive with her. She returned the hug, then led him to the door. She pushed on it, and it swung open. They walked into the white room, hand in hand, wondering what was coming next.

  * * * * *

  11:56 PM EDT: Dayle looked up in surprise as Maclean entered the room. He hadn’t summoned her. What was she doing?

  “Hello, Eldon,” she purred, calling him by his first name for the first time. “I just thought I’d drop by to say my farewells. I’m afraid there’s been a change in plans. I don’t know what you hoped to do wi
th those kids, but I’m tired of playing your games. The money’s in my account, and I’m going to put an end to this thing once and for all. Starting with you.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You silly cow,” he snarled. “You’ll do as you’re told. Go back to your room. When I’m ready to deal with these children, I’ll let you know. You forget yourself!”

  She had started to reach back for her pistol when she caught sight of the monitors. Cassie and Brandon were wandering around the white room, not talking or touching, as though they were waiting for something. “When did you let them out?” Shannon demanded.

  Dayle looked at the monitors and was instantly on his feet. “I didn’t let them out! They were locked in the black room. They’re up to something. Or something’s happened. We have to get in there.” He sprang from his chair and ran to the wall, next to the monitors, slamming his hand against the hidden doorway that had never been used before.

  Cassie and Brandon jumped when the wall opened up. As many times as she’d examined the white room, Cassie had never felt the outline of a doorway. But now she saw her tormenter in the flesh for the first time, as he burst into the room, the Goth following close behind.

  “How did you get out of that room?” Dayle screamed.

  “Where did you come from?” Brandon demanded.

  Before another word could be spoken, the entire hangar was flooded with the sound of a pure, soaring voice, one of the most popular soprano singers of the past century, singing a cappella:

  “Through many dangers, toils and snares

  I have already come;