by Kelly Moore
That’s it! I’ll pretend to be sick. They need me alive so they would have to get me some help.
When I hear footsteps near the stairs, I lie facedown on the floor. The hinges on the door creak as it opens. Both men descend down the wooden stairs. I close my eyes as they get closer and moan.
“Ohhh.” I curl into a ball on my side. I repeat the moaning several times.
One of them unlocks the door, and the other walks by him and lays down a tray of food. He has the rifle draped over his shoulder. He nudges me with his boot.
“Eat your food,’ he says.
“My gut feels like it’s on fire,” I moan again.
“You’re faking. Now sit up and eat,” he barks.
I roll over, facing the other way. Arching up, I stick my finger down my throat and start gagging.
“I don’t think he’s faking, man,” the other guard says. “We need to call someone.”
They both step just outside my cell. I roll back over to be able to see them. The bigger of the two men, the one with the rifle, pulls a cell phone out of his shirt pocket.
“He’s sick. What do you want us to do with him?” He pauses and listens. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with him. He says his gut feels like it’s on fire and then he started puking.”
I moan loudly. “Aw! It feels like an alien is coming out!” Dramatic I know, but I want to freak them out.
“Can you hear him?” He holds the phone out in my direction, and I moan again.
He places it back next to his ear. “He needs a doctor.” He listens again.
“I didn’t sign up to take care of someone. Do you want me to kill him and put him out of his misery? That I will willingly do.”
Maybe I shouldn’t be such a good actor. I curl back into a ball but stay quiet this time.
“Okay, I know the address,” he finally says and puts his phone back in his pocket.
“What did he say?” the other guard asks him.
“There is a small-town doctor on the next island over. We are going to take him there.” He unlocks the gate, then hauls me up off the floor by the arm.
I hold my stomach as we go up the stairs. The cut on my foot is still tender while walking in my socked feet. It really hurts when it lands on the gravel outside as they shove me into the back seat of the SUV. One man slides in beside me as the other gets behind the wheel.
“What are we going to tell the doctor about him?” The man in the back seat looks nervous.
“We aren’t going to tell him anything. I’ll hold a gun to his head, and he will do as I ask.”
Gravel flies out as he takes off down the drive. He pushes a remote button to open the gate. Leaning my head against the window, I keep one eye open to make note of where we are. About a mile down the road is a long, narrow bridge that leads to another island. One that I recognize. We are still in the Hawaiian Islands. The one we are driving to is two islands over from where I live. There is only one doctor on this island, and I took L.J. to him one time when Brooklyn was sick. I hope to God that he recognizes me. He’s an older gentleman with a small, busy family practice. Most of the neighboring islanders come here to see him.
The familiar blue building comes into view as we clear the bridge. There are several cars in the dirt parking lot when we park. The man in the front gets out and lays his rifle in the seat. “Stay here,” he barks and walks away. I see him place his hand on the handle of his gun that is sticking out of the back of his black jeans.
A few minutes later, he returns to the SUV and opens the back door. “Get out!” He pulls his gun out and waves it at me. “The kind lady at the front desk has agreed to bring him in the back door.”
“How did you manage that?” the other guy asks as he opens my door and helps me out.
“I told her that the patient was too sick to wait in the waiting room and he would throw up all over the floor.” He laughs.
A woman greets us at the back door and puts the three of us in a small room. She tries to get them to wait outside as she helps me sit on the table.
“I have some phone calls to make,” the big guy says and then whispers something to the other man, who sits down in a metal folding chair.
The cute brunette medical assistant hands me a gown. “My name is Sara, Mister…”
“Smith,” the guy in the chair says.
The young girl smiles sweetly at me. “Put this on, Mr. Smith. The doctor will be in shortly to see you.” She turns and closes the door behind her.
“You let me do the talking!” the guard growls. “If you say one thing that gives you away, I will kill that pregnant wife of yours.”
I remain quiet as I remove my shirt and put the gown on. I leave my jeans on but take my dirty, bloody sock off my foot. If I’m going to escape, I’m going to need it taken care of while I’m here.
“What are you doing?” He points to my foot. “We’re here for your stomachache.”
“Well, my foot hurts too. You wouldn’t want it getting infected and me to die from it, would you?”
That seems to appease him. He pats the gun under his jacket. “Don’t make me kill the only doc in town.”
As I sit back on the table, there is a knock on the door, and the doctor walks in. “Hi, Mr. Smith,” he says, glancing down at the chart. “I’m Dr. Tinsley.” His eyebrows draw together as he shakes my hand. “Have you been in here before?”
“No, he’s a tourist. Never been here before,” the man in the chair says.
Dr. Tinsley looks at him and then at me. “I don’t see anything written in this chart other than you have a severe stomachache.” He flips it open.
“Yeah, I think it’s something that I ate.” I glare at the guard. “Actually, the pain has let up some since earlier.”
“Lay back and let me examine you,” the doctor says. I lie back as he washes his hands, dries them, and then dons a pair of gloves. He pulls up my paper gown and presses on my stomach. “Does this hurt?”
“A little.”
“Show me where it was hurting earlier.”
I want to make up something so that he will have to call an ambulance, but I’m afraid if I do, my friend here will start shooting up the place and kill innocent people. “Right here.” I put my hand just below my belly button.
He presses. “Is it still tender?”
“Only a little.” I sit. “But this hurts like a son of a bitch.” I draw my foot up and show him my heel.
“This redness here indicates that it’s infected.” He points to the area around the cut. “What did you cut it on?”
“He stepped on some glass,” the guard answers.
“How long ago?” The guard starts to answer him, but the doctor puts his hand up to stop him. “Mr. Smith is more than capable of answering my questions.
I want to smirk at him. “Three days ago,” I say, instead.
His eyes search mine for a minute. I really think he’s trying to place me, but the scruff on my face isn’t helping. I rub my hand over my beard, hoping to give him a hint that it’s not always there.
“Well, it’s too late for me to stitch it up, but I can clean it then dress it. You will need to take some antibiotics for a week and then come see me again.” He opens a drawer and pulls out some gauze. Then he sticks his head out and calls for Sara to come help him.
I lie back on the table, and she places a white towel under my feet.
“Sir, we are going to need a little room. Would you please go sit in the waiting room?” the doctor asks the guard.
He hesitates but gets up. He points a finger at me. “I’ll be outside the door.”
The doctor waits until the door is closed before he starts working on my foot. His assistant hands him whatever he needs. As he is cleaning it, he asks me a question.
“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Smith, while you are here?”
I look past him at the door and then back at him. I make a motion with my hand for pen and paper. Sara nods and pulls both out of h
er pocket.
I scribble down John’s number and write, “Stand by Me. Two islands over, come and find me.”
The doorknob rattles, and I stuff the pen and paper in Sara’s pocket. She steps back toward the sink.
“Are you almost done in here?” The guard sticks his head inside the room.
“Just finishing up,” the doctor says as he rolls the gauze around my foot. “You need to keep this clean. Sara can get you the antibiotics to take with you from the front desk.” He turns to her. “Why don’t you take this gentleman to get them while I finish up in here.”
The guard scowls but follows Sara.
“Go out the back door while he’s up front,” the doctor whispers.
I rip the gown off and throw my shirt over my head.
“Here, take these,” the doctor says as he’s removing his socks and shoes.
I slip the socks on and then the shoes that are a little too big, but they will protect my feet. Then he opens the door wide and stands in the hall. He waves me out when the coast is clear. I see the other guard leaning against the SUV, talking on the phone. I take off in a sprint heading down the road.
He sees me, and I hear the car door open. I pick up my pace, and as I turn into one of the alleys, something pierces me in the ass. I don’t slow down to look as I try to climb the fence between the buildings. I reach up with my arms, but my legs don’t follow. I look behind me, and there is a dart sticking out of my left butt cheek. I yank it out and try to climb again, but instead, I hit the pavement beneath me.
Chapter Eleven
John
Matthew was right. By the time dinner is over and we have everything cleaned up and the kids in bed, the files have been sent over. Brooklyn goes back to work in her home office, while Matthew and I stay holed up in mine. We have files upon files of audio, video, and visitor logs.
I know Knox isn’t stupid. There is no way he openly talked about his plan over a phone call he knew was being listened to. If he disclosed his plan to anyone, it would have been done in person or over his private cell phone that he managed to sneak in.
We start watching the hours of video from visiting hours. It looks like the camera is in the far corner of the room, getting a view from every inmate. We can clearly see Knox and the person he’s talking to, but there is no audio. While Matthew watches the video, claiming he can read lips, I get to work on doing a search on every name on the visitor log.
Many of the names seem to be from friends and family, and nothing comes up when looking through them.
“I got it!” Matthew says.
“You got what?” I ask, not bothering to look away from my computer screen as I start another search.
“Right here, he says, ‘it’s done. We have a captain.’”
I look up. “That doesn’t even make sense. Why would they need a captain?”
He looks closer at the screen. “Maybe he says, ‘we have him captured.’”
I push away from my desk and lean over Matthew, wanting a look for myself. “Well, what’s he saying now?”
Matthew gets quiet as he looks closer. “Our plane is in motion.”
“You mean, our plan is in action?” I ask.
“Yeah, maybe that’s it.” Matthew smiles to himself.
“What’s the date and time on this visit?” I ask, moving back to my chair.
“Time is 2:05 p.m. on June twelfth.”
I look at the logs and find the name of the visitor: Haku Kaiwi. I spin around and type the name into my computer, pulling up a long list of crimes he’s been convicted of, property records, and much more.
“I think I found something,” I say as I continue clicking my way around.
Matthew stands up and leans over to view the screen.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
“It looks like Kaiwi owns land a few islands over.”
“That could be where they’re keeping Jake.” I pull up a satellite of the property but don’t see anything out of the ordinary. My best guess—if Jake is there, they are keeping him underground, in a basement or cellar of some sort.
It’s a long shot, but it’s better than nothing. I push away from my desk, heading toward the door.
“What are you doing? You’re just going to drive over there and do this by yourself? What if you get taken too?”
“If I can get Jake myself, Knox won’t have any leverage on me. He can spend the rest of his days rotting in his cell. I’m better alone.”
Matthew shakes his head while rubbing his brows. “Let me send some men in with you.”
“No. I don’t want anyone in my way. I don’t want to be out there distracted, wondering if I’m going to have to tell a woman that the man she loves isn’t coming home. I work better alone, you know that.” I turn to leave, but he grabs hold of my bicep.
“And I don’t want to have to tell my daughter and grandkids that you’re not coming home because I let you walk out that door alone.”
We’re in some sort of standoff. I understand where he’s coming from, but my mind is always sharper when I’m alone, when there is nobody else there to worry about other than myself.
“Matthew, I know what you’re saying, but I’m more comfortable alone. I won’t put anyone else in danger, and that’s final.” I leave the room quickly before he can stop me.
I head straight for Brooklyn. I know if I don’t, he will only do it himself and make her agree with him. I open the door and find Zoe curled up on the sofa.
“I think I know where they are keeping him,” I say, walking past Zoe to Brooklyn.
“Where?” Her gaze pops up to mine.
“A few islands over. I’m going there now.” I turn to leave, in a hurry to save my brother, but Brooklyn calls after me.
“John!”
I turn around to face her. I should have known it wouldn’t be this easy.
“You’re going now? You know nothing about these people or this place. What if they have traps or alarms set up? You need to dig a little instead of closing your eyes and jumping.”
“They have Jake,” I tell her. That’s all the digging I need to do.
“She’s right, John. I want to save Jake as much as you do but getting yourself killed won’t do that. You need to learn the layout, find all the exit points, learn who we’re dealing with and what their weaknesses are. We need to come up with a plan instead of going in blind,” Zoe says.
Matthew busts through the door, panting. When he sees I’m already here, he flops down on the couch. “I guess he told you what he plans on doing?” he asks Brook.
She nods. “He did. Zoe and I are trying to talk him out of it.”
“Good. He needs help. He can’t do this all alone. It’s too dangerous. But you know his stubborn ass. He won’t listen to me.”
Brooklyn glares at me. “You’re planning on going in alone?”
I look over at her. “Can we go somewhere private and talk, please?”
She takes a deep breath but walks outside. I follow after her.
The second I’m outside with the door closed, she’s jumping on me. “Are you seriously thinking of doing this alone?”
“You know me, Brook. I work better alone. My mind is clearer when I don’t have to think of anyone but myself. You want Jake back, let me do this.”
She starts pacing with her arms crossed over her chest. “And what happens if you’re captured too? Then what?”
I walk up to her, stopping her pacing. “That won’t happen. I’ll get out of there, with or without Jake. I’ll be back. If the place is too guarded, I’ll come home and get help. I won’t put myself in danger. I promise.” I place my hands on her biceps and rub up and down.
I can see her wavering. “John…”
I grab her against me, landing a firm kiss on her lips. When I pull away, I say, “I love you, Brook. I love those kids in there. No way am I not coming back.”
“When are you leaving?”
“I’m going to take your advice
and do a little research on who I’m messing with. Check the property over, come up with a strategy, and leave first thing in the morning. If I knew where I was going, the dark would make it easier to hide, but no way will they expect me to strike in broad daylight.”
She nods. “If you get Jake, Knox is going to have a fit. You’re his ticket out of there.”
“I know. We’ll need to be prepared for his plan B.”
“I’m glad the kids will be leaving in the morning before all this goes down.”
I take her hand and squeeze it. “Me too.” I motion toward her office. “Come on, let’s go break the news to your dad. I think he was about to have a heart attack.”
She giggles. “He loves you and was just trying to protect you the only way he knows how.”
“I know, and I appreciate it. I consider him as my own father.” I stop her just before she opens the door. “This family—you, me, the kids, your dad, Jake, Zoe, and their baby, that’s what’s most important to me. I won’t rest until we’re all safe. I promise.”
She offers up a half grin. “I know, John. We love you too.”
I wake bright and early to pack up everything I’ll need. I sneak into the kids’ rooms and kiss them both on the head. I wish I could hang out long enough to see them off on their trip, but I need to get moving.
I kiss Brooklyn goodbye and promise to return before jumping onto my bike. It’s going on eight a.m. when my phone rings. I push the button on my earpiece. “Hello?”
“Good morning, sir. This is Sara. I’m a nurse at a local practice here on the island. I have a message for you.”
I slow down and pull my bike over to the side of the road. “Okay?”
“Stand by me,” she says.
Jake. “I’m sorry, how did you get this message?”
