“We have to get out of here,” he whispered, scanning the exits. There were two doors he could see from here, both blocked by men dressed in clothing as dark as the feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“I agree.” Nina shivered against him, eyes jumping from the blond guy in a motorcycle jacket to the bald man guarding the other door across the room. He was big too, stretching a black sports coat and necktie to their limits. “But how?”
Leaning forward, Huck stared past her. “Johnny,” he whispered.
Johnny stared straight ahead, tears connecting the freckles on his cheeks.
“Johnny!”
Slowly, he turned to them with a vacant look haunting his eyes.
“Listen to me, I’m Huck and this is Nina. Everything is going to be fine.”
Blinking blankly, he spoke in a dull whisper. “I was doing my paper route.”
Huck’s brow gathered into a bunch. “What’s that?”
“A white van pulled up and stopped.” The boy’s eyes drifted to the freakishly big guy smoking a cigarette beneath a dormant exit sign at the end of the bay. Clad in an unzipped motorcycle jacket and dark jeans, he took slow drags, oily eyes sliding from one side of the room to the other. “They pulled me inside and covered my mouth with a wet rag.”
“Jesus,” Huck breathed out, studying the snow boots on Johnny’s feet. “Here,” he said, struggling to remove his jacket. Nina helped him take it off and passed it to Johnny. “Where did this happen?”
“A few blocks from my house.”
“No, what town do you live in?”
Slipping into the black leather, Johnny looked perplexed by the question. “Des Moines.”
Huck frowned right back at him. “Des Moines, Iowa? When?”
Johnny zipped Huck’s jacket up and stuffed his hands in the pockets. “Not sure,” he whispered, head whipping around when a skinny, bearded man screamed down the row. Stomach turning, Huck watched Ambrose bring the metallic splinter to his lips and suck it clean. Color rose up his neck and into his cheeks, and when he violently pulled the hipster’s finger to his mouth, Huck looked away.
“Why’s he doing that?” he trembled, his white thermal no match against these frigid temps.
Nina scooted closer, flushing his side with heat. “We don’t know what’s going on.”
Bending forward, Huck stared past Nina and Johnny. “Jenny,” he said in a loud whisper.
Jenny sat there and watched Ambrose like a hawk, arms wrapped around the knees pulled into her chest. Even though her hoodie and purple Converse were ill-equipped to handle the cold, she didn’t shiver. She didn’t shake. The only thing moving were the thin wisps uncurling from her pink lips.
“Jenny!”
When she failed to respond, Huck turned back to the anxious group of people across the room. “We have to get out of here and get some help.”
Johnny snorted, a white cloud hanging around his head. “They have guns.”
“I saw that.”
“We have to jump them.” Nina analyzed the situation through smoky eyes. “The element of surprise is on our side.”
They both turned drawn faces to her.
“Trust me, I’m a kickboxing instructor and we can do this,” she told them, squeezing their hands. “If we don’t do it while we still have some energy, they’ll wear us down until we can’t. I’ve seen documentaries on human trafficking.” She fell into Huck’s big browns, her hand warm in his. “They will break us; mentally and physically.”
“I can barely move my legs, let alone fight someone.”
“The drugs wear off quickly,” she told him, nodding at Motorcycle Jacket. The sides of his head were shaved nearly to his scalp, leaving a long crop of blond hair sweeping down the middle of his back. “We take blondie out first and bolt through that door,” she whispered. Motorcycle Jacket took a long, lazy drag and turned to face them. Releasing Huck’s hand, Nina turned away. “There aren’t any chains on it and the wood is only covering the glass. Push the crossbar in the middle and it should open.”
Huck watched the man blow smoke their direction. “How do you know?”
“Why else would someone be guarding it?”
“Have you seen anyone use it?”
“Not yet,” Nina replied. “They’ve mainly been coming and going through the lobby inside.”
“We should do it while their backs are turned.” Johnny jerked his chin to Ambrose and his two thugs and Huck sighed because the kid was right. Adrenaline flooded his system at the thought of trying to overpower whoever the hell these people were, especially in his condition. Especially without the Glock 22 normally hiding in the small of his back. He flexed his fingers, all of which were responding better with each passing breath. If they could create a diversion, they just might have…
A loud raucous pulled him from his frantic thoughts. He turned to see the jittery group rush across the room and jump Ambrose and his two assistants from behind. Panic shredded the quiet air, fueled by angry screams and painful cries. Pitching the smoke to the ground, Motorcycle Jacket sprang into action, leaping the chain-driven rail and punching the skinny black guy right in the face, dropping him to the floor like a sack of potatoes.
Huck pushed to his feet. “Let’s go,” he said, stumbling over to Jenny and grabbing her by the wrist. “Jenny, come on!” He pulled with both hands and Jenny simply slid across the floor on her back like a sleeping cat. Limp as a noodle. Paralyzed in the face of unadulterated terror.
“Huck,” Nina cried out from behind.
He backpedaled toward her voice, struggling to drag Jenny to the unguarded exit. He could barely keep his footing, let alone haul her dead weight across the car wash. Clenching his teeth, he tugged harder, straining the muscles in his back. His heel collided with the chain-driven rail and he fell to his butt, sending a sharp crack of pain up his spine.
“Let’s go!” Nina yelled, pulling him to his feet and towing him across the bay.
Chapter Three
Footprints
An inhuman screech rang out that made Nina pull Huck faster. Their shoes slapped against the smooth concrete, masked by the turmoil going on behind. The exit grew closer and Huck already needed a breather. The drugs in his system turned his legs to rubber and it was all he could do to keep from tripping. Johnny beat them to the door and shoved on the metal crossbar with both hands. There was a metallic click and the heavy door stubbornly swung out into the night. Huck prayed when he turned around that Jenny would be following closely behind, and not Greeve and Joshua. Stepping over the threshold, he chanced a quick glance. Still laid out across the floor, Jenny watched the mayhem unfold through bulging eyes. Gunshots rang out and the door swung shut behind him, muffling the screams that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
However short that may now be.
The icy air cooled his racing lungs and he couldn’t believe it was pitch black outside. Huck met the farmer at ten in the morning but couldn’t think about that now. Snowflakes collected in his lashes, distorting the barren wasteland ahead. Discovering they were out in the middle of nowhere and on their own, his heart sank with his Pumas into a fresh blanket of powder. When he left the house Tuesday morning, it had been sunny and warm for December in Colorado and he distinctly remembered opting for sneakers instead of boots so he could get a better feel for the Camaro. Now, running through two feet of fresh snowfall, he regretted that decision and had to push it down before slipping and falling.
“This way,” Nina yelled, darting into an open lot littered with dilapidated buildings and abandoned vehicles. Fists pumping, they passed a defunct storage company, a boat repair shop, and a boarded up antique store called The Picker – all ghosts of the past. Phone lines undoubtedly as dead as everything else. The howling wind stung Huck’s eyes as he skidded around a corner with panic nipping at his heels.
He looked over his shoulder, certain Motorcycle Jacket would be barreling down on them with a gun in hand. His eyes drew to the dim ligh
t shining above the door they just escaped. Thankfully, it was still shut and growing smaller with each step. His gaze fell to the trail of footprints they were leaving behind in the snow, amplifying his anxiety. Not only did these monsters have their cellphones and keys, they could easily follow their tracks wherever they went. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
He spun back around and followed Nina and Johnny down a long row of storage garages, searching for somewhere to escape. Sliding to a stop at the end of the lot, they stared at a small cluster of orange lights sitting off in the distance, teasing them with a glimmer of hope they’d never reach in time.
“How far?” Nina panted.
“Miles.” Huck’s breath rushed out in ghostly waves, a red spot growing in the sleeve of his shirt where they drew his blood. “We need to get out of the snow. We’re leaving a trail right to us.”
Johnny and Nina examined the footprints behind them with the color draining from their faces. “We need wings,” Johnny breathed, pulling hair from his eyes.
“We need a car.” Nina scoured a handful of vehicles claimed by Old Man Winter and Father Time. There was no point in trying to hide when their footprints would give them away. Their only hope was to outrun them and Huck could barely walk.
“There!”
They followed Johnny’s finger to a small pair of headlights creeping across the bleached landscape toward the town teasing them in the distance.
“Come on!” Huck helped them over a battered chain-link fence and into a milky field. Pelting snowflakes impeded his vision and it was annoying as fuck. If ever there was a time to see clearly, this was it. The rough ground slipped out beneath him and he couldn’t stop feeling hands latch onto his shoulders from behind. He wanted to turn and look but falling now was a death sentence. Yet he had to know. Were they coming? Was the tall one named Greeve getting closer? Or maybe the shorter one Ambrose called Joshua? Without slowing, Huck rotated his head a quarter turn and relief washed over him. Maybe the others managed to overpower their abductors and the thought gave him a much-needed burst of energy. “Run!” he cried, the headlights growing brighter.
Johnny took the lead, frantically waving his hands over his head. It was going to be close and Huck could barely hear the footsteps closing in from behind for the ragged breaths storming his lungs. Glancing back, he saw the burly guy in the motorcycle jacket coming at a quick clip with Greeve in tow. Arms pumping, Greeve’s black hair flew out wildly behind him, long legs sinuously navigating the snowfall with the grace of a gazelle.
Huck turned back around and slid down a ditch, tumbling into a swath of snow-covered thickets and trees. Dead foliage tore at his cheeks and snow worked down his jeans. Without killing his momentum, he tore up the other embankment, using bony branches as rappelling ropes. At the top, Nina and Johnny took his hands and catapulted him into the snowy roadway. Headlights lit up the fear in his eyes and an air horn squashed his scream. The eighteen-wheeler locked up its brakes with a garish screeching sound that Huck felt in his chest. Massive tires dug through the snow, finding the frozen pavement beneath, and everything slowed to a crawl in his mind. Instinctively, he knew this big rig was going to end this nightmare on the now plan. With the thick snow, he couldn’t get out of the way in time. Not with these legs. Horn blaring, the semi swerved a degree to the left, stinging his red cheeks with a gust of icy wind as it sailed past in a blur. The brakes moaned and whined and, seventy yards later, the mammoth truck shuddered to a stop in the middle of the road.
“Let’s go!” Huck pulled Johnny and Nina toward the glowing taillights, wanting to look over his shoulder to see if the gruesome twosome were still coming but refusing the needless craving. The wind clawed at his face with frozen nails, bringing tears to his eyes. He focused on his footing, the semi’s throaty rumble growing with the diesel swirling in the air. Sprinting through a stream of exhaust, Johnny sprang up the side steps and yanked the passenger door open.
“Hurry!” he yelled back, scrambling inside the cab.
“Christ on a popsicle stick! You tryin to get yerselves killed?” a woman’s voice cried out from inside.
Huck helped Nina tackle the short flight of steps, breathing in the ethereal exhaust and pulling himself up by an ice-covered handle. Shutting the door against the wind, he stopped short when he noticed a faint red light burning in the ditch. The unmistakable glow of a cigarette sent his heart leaping into the back of his throat.
“What’s the matter? Ya get stuck in the snow?”
Huck slammed the door shut and locked it. Sinking into the passenger seat, he blew a cloud over the dashboard lights. “Drive,” he said in a much softer voice than intended.
“Where’s your car?”
He turned to the sound of the driver’s voice, sweet heat cradling him in its comforting arms. “There are people chasing us,” he panted. “Drive!”
The woman behind the oversized steering wheel stared vacantly at him with the engine vibrating the seats. Pushing a pair of horn-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose, she turned to Nina and Johnny perched upon a small bed in the rear of the cab.
“Please go!” Nina said, throwing a blanket around Johnny and scanning the windows through jumpy eyes.
Johnny’s teeth chattered, jarring his entire body like he was operating some invisible jack-hammer.
“Say no more,” the driver replied, grinding the gears and getting into the gas. The truck lurched forward, gaining speed like an old locomotive. Impatiently, Huck studied the long side mirror and, there amongst the skeletal trees, saw it again. A faint red light glowing in the ditch before fading back into the gray. Fear compressed his chest like a vise. Why weren’t they coming? Why’d they let them go?
“My cellphone is in the cupholder.”
Following the trucker’s eyes to the dash, he retrieved it and punched at the screen with a shaky finger. He pressed the phone to an ear and held his breath, the screen warm against his cheek. It rang three times that seemed like three hundred.
“911, this is Franklin. What’s your emergency?”
“I need to report a major kidnapping,” Huck blurted, eyes landing on an ashtray filled with brown cigarette butts. “A human trafficking ring we just escaped!” The ensuing quiet made him think he lost the call. “Hello?”
“You need to report a major kidnapping?” an elderly man coolly confirmed as if calls like this come in all the time.
“Yes!”
Fingers languidly pecked at a keyboard in the background. “What’s your location, sir?”
Huck’s mouth opened but nothing came out, not even his breath. Snowflakes attacked the windshield, a sea of white growing around them. He turned to the woman steering the big rig down a winding highway. “Where are we?”
Her eyebrows drew together in the yellow dashboard light, grayish-brown curls bouncing upon her head. “Coming up on Clearwater Lake,” she answered, unzipping a red vest thrown over a green flannel.
Frowning, Huck searched his memory banks. “Clearwater Lake?”
“Where abouts Clearwater Lake, sir?” the 911 operator calmly asked, poking at the keyboard again.
“Where the hell is that?”
“Here,” the trucker said, taking the phone from him. “Hello, this is Ramona Dunn with Ryder Trucking and I just picked up three individuals on the northbound side of Highway 59, about twenty clicks south of Cottage Grove.” She nodded her head up and down, shaking her curls. “That is correct, sir. They say there are some people chasing them and…” Trailing off, she squinted at a road sign half covered in snow coming up ahead. “We’ll pull off at Bud’s Diner in three miles.” Nodding some more, she described her truck and rattled off the license plate. Snow crunched under the tires and she turned quiet. “Hello? Sir? Franklin?” She glanced at the phone and returned it to the cupholder in the dash. “Lost him.”
“What’d he say?” Nina asked, bouncing on the bed in back. “Did he hear you?”
“He said the Sherriff is tend
ing to a nearby accident and will meet us at the diner. We should be there in a few minutes.” Relaxing into the seat, her eyes hitched on the bloodstain blooming on Huck’s shirt sleeve. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” he answered, pulling on a shoulder belt. “They drew our blood.”
Her jaw came unhinged. “They what?”
“They used syringes and drew our blood,” Johnny added from the back.
Ramona scrunched her face up. “Who did?”
Huck stared into the side mirror, watching red snowflakes swirl in the taillights. In his mind’s eye, he kept seeing a pair of headlights push through the storm in the distance. “A human trafficking ring or something. They processed us like livestock.”
Nina leaned forward on the bed. “There were twenty or thirty people locked in that place.”
“What place?” Romana asked, barrel hugging the wheel.
“Some abandoned carwash.” Huck turned to face her. “What’s the date?”
“Huh?”
“Today’s date.”
She furrowed her brow. “Saturday.”
“Saturday?”
Romana looked at him as if he’d lost his marbles. “Yeah, tomorrow’s Christmas.”
Huck shot through a tunnel of snowflakes at warp speed before stopping on a dime. The tires crunching through the snow turned silent. The throaty engine fell away to a dull drone. A far-off ringing started up in his left ear, slowly coming closer. “What!”
“Technically, it’s already Christmas,” she told him, nodding at the dash.
Nina covered her mouth. “Oh, my God!”
Huck stared at the digital clock in the dash, the indigo numbers telling him it was sixteen degrees outside and just after midnight. His heart thrashed against his ribcage, pumping blood too quickly through his veins. He felt lightheaded, like he just got off some sketchy carnival ride after downing a few pints of cheap beer. Confusion swam in his head because he’d gone to look at the Camaro on Tuesday morning, which meant he’d been missing for over four days now. RaeAnn surged to the forefront of his mind, scarring his brain with her mother’s pretty blue eyes. She was only five and wouldn’t understand his absence. She would think he left her, like her mommy did. No one would understand, including Huck’s sister, Tess, who’d been watching RaeAnn for over four days now with no calls or texts from him. That alone would be alarming, let alone missing Christmas Eve dinner. Shallow breaths pumped his chest. RaeAnn was all he had left in the world and if something…
Vampire Nation Page 2
