Taken By Surprise (Taken Trilogy Book 1)

by Jessica Frances

  “Are you all right? Some of the guys were talking about you and said you looked hurt.”

  I lift up my pants leg to see how it looks. It’s still heavily bruised, but not sore to touch. I even feel more stable standing on it. After lifting my sleeve up on my shirt, I see my arm still looks a lot like my leg and my shoulder is still sore. I am able to move it, though, which is an improvement on yesterday.

  “What the hell happened to you, kid?” Gavin looks at me with wide eyes, anger taking over his features.

  “A man chased me.”

  “What did you steal to get a beating like that?”

  “I didn’t steal anything. I don’t know why he was chasing me. He had a gun, though.”

  “A gun! What have you got yourself mixed up in, kid?” Gavin now looks worried rather than angry.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen him before, I swear.”

  “Maybe he was from one of them gangs. There’s been a few gang kids hanging around. You should stay low for a few days.”

  “I can’t. I need food.”

  “Here” Gavin takes a packet of chips, two bread rolls and a small carton of milk from the shopping bag he has slumped over his shoulder.

  “Why?”

  “You need this more than I do.”

  “But I’m young and have good genes.” I throw his words back at him from when we first met, feeling bad that I’m taking his food from him.

  “Yeah, but you need something in that stomach of yours. No one is chasing me, kid. Take it.”

  “Thanks.” I grab both bread rolls and start eating them immediately, wishing I was able to pay Gavin back somehow for all the times he has helped me.

  “You might need to leave, kid. If someone is looking for you that hard, they’re going to find you.”

  “Leave?”

  “Yeah, get on a bus and go to another town.”

  I’m nervous at his words. As much as I pride myself that I don’t need anybody, I can’t imagine leaving Gavin.

  “You’ll be fine, kid. You’re the strongest and fastest person I’ve ever known.” Gavin seems to sense my unease.

  I just nod at him. Staying low doesn’t mean I have to leave, this guy will eventually find someone else to harass.

  “I’ll ask around; see if anyone else has seen this guy. Maybe I can find out what he wants with you.”

  “Thanks, Gavin.”

  Gavin puts his hand on my shoulder. I don’t know when it became okay for him to do that without me freaking out, but he is the only person I know I can trust.

  “Stay safe, kid. You deserve better than all this.”

  Again I nod my head and say nothing. I couldn’t speak even if I wanted to.

  ***

  Hours after Gavin leaves, I stay in my corner without moving. What did staying low mean? Staying here where I sleep? Going somewhere different so if someone does know my routines, they won’t be able to find me? Only go out at night time? Change my clothing? Cut my hair again? Try to look different? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. All I do know is that I can’t bring myself to leave. I hate that I feel this way, but I can’t lie. I need Gavin. I like him. I’ll feel sad if I have to leave and can’t ever see him again. The man with the gun will eventually leave and things will go back to normal. Nothing has to change.

  My legs start to cramp up late in the afternoon and I stand to stretch them. Feeling beyond bored, I decide a short walk will be fine. I might even be able to score some food.

  I walk out of the lot and turn towards the city again. I feel nervous being out on the street in the open, but that man is nowhere in sight.

  I turn the next corner and flashing red and blue lights assault my eyes. There are cop cars and an ambulance at the front of the soup kitchen. A fight must have happened. That did occur from time to time. Usually Gavin will tell me what went down a few days later.

  I’m about to turn the next corner when a man blocks my path. I nearly crash straight into him.

  “Kid?”

  I think for a moment ‘it’s Gavin,’ but it ends up being one of his friends. Paulie. I’ve never liked him.

  “Excuse me.” I try to move past him, but he blocks my way again.

  “I thought that was you.”

  I watch as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks down at me. I know I’ll have to hear him out because he’ll be a pain in my side otherwise.

  “What do you want?”

  “You need to leave town.”

  “Why, ‘cause Gavin says so?” Why does everyone want me to leave town?

  “Because Gavin is dead.”

  “What?” I feel like he just punched me in the gut with that statement.

  “Some man pointed a gun at him and was asking a lot of questions about you. Gavin grabbed his chest and then down he went. They’re saying he had a heart attack.”

  “He’s really gone?” I don’t care that tears escape my eyes and Paulie can see them. Gavin can’t be dead.

  “Yep. I’m sorry, kid. He always cared a lot about you.”

  “Why is this man after me? What did I do?” I don’t really expect Paulie to be able to answer that; my thoughts are just too jumbled to think clearly. I can’t believe Gavin is dead. My only friend is dead.

  “I don’t know, kid, but the guy looked angry.”

  “Where do I go?” I’m completely lost now. I didn’t want to leave Gavin, but now he has left me.

  “I don’t care, kid, just don’t tell me. I’ll have no problems giving you up.” Paulie stumbles away from me, looking around himself suspiciously.

  Gavin is dead? Is it true that the man with the gun was hassling him about me? Why? Why is he looking for me? What have I done?

  Gavin’s words then repeat in my mind. “Get on a bus and go to another town.”

  I need to get to a bus station. I need to leave. After two years on the street, I have never felt more scared than how I’m feeling right now. I’m officially all alone in the world and I have a madman chasing me, wanting to kill me.

  Chapter Ten – The Lights

  Saturday, April 7th

  Sneaking onto a bus is easier than I thought it would be. I simply sneak on while the driver is busy loading luggage into the bottom of the bus and hide in the toilet. I keep the door closed, but not locked because then a light would appear, showing someone is in it. I wait to hear the bus start and once I feel us moving, I count to twenty slowly before then getting out and moving into the first empty seat I see. No one even looks at me twice.

  It’s a mostly vacant bus and nearly everyone is gazing out their window, listening to whatever is going through their headphones. A few are reading books. I have no idea where I am headed, I just got on the first bus whose driver wasn’t there.

  I sit towards the back and rest my head against the glass window. I rarely ever get to ride in any form of transport these days and the rocking feels discomforting, unnatural. I want to sleep through it, yet my mind refuses to switch off.

  Gavin is dead. Why? What does this man want with me? I steal basic foods, nothing over a few dollars. It really doesn’t make any sense.

  Will Gavin’s family be notified of his death? Will they even care? Maybe I should have gone and visited them before I left?

  I stole an old pair of black jeans and a worn, faded grey t-shirt from the second hand store before heading out. Although it’s not any warmer than my last clothing, it at least looks different. I don’t say goodbye to anyone because there is no one to say goodbye to. Gavin is gone and I don’t care about being near Aunt Lesley and Uncle Sid.

  Maybe leaving is a good thing. Being in the same town they’re in was bound to cause problems eventually. I’m surprised I never ran into them on the street. After I ran away, they never even came looking for me. I never saw pictures posted on trees and poles on the street like I sometimes see other kids or even animals. I doubt anyone knew I existed because I had lived with them for years and hardly ever left the house. I didn’t go
to school, being home schooled by my Aunt. I was never allowed to have friends or go to kids’ parties. I never had a birthday party of my own, well, at least not one I can remember.

  Sometimes, when I was allowed to watch television, I would look at the families on there and wonder why things were so different for me. Why everyone was almost always happy. Now I know it’s just because I have an awful family who hates me.

  I rest my eyes and try to think about something other than my dreadful family. My thoughts are wasted on them.

  ***

  Much later, after the long drive is finally over, I’m the last one to leave and notice a strange look from the bus driver as I get out. He obviously doesn’t remember me from when he checked off tickets. After a few seconds, he shrugs his shoulders and gets back onto the bus, ignoring me.

  I walk towards what I assume is the city and shiver as rain starts spitting lightly down on me. It doesn’t take long to turn fierce and hard. Soon, I’m soaked and remember why jeans are a bad thing to wear on the streets. It’ll take days for them to dry. The holes in my shoes make it easy for my threadbare socks to get soaked, too. There is no way I’m going to be able to stay dry tonight. Tomorrow, when the sun is up, I’ll need to get my bearings, figure out where the public restrooms are and perhaps an easy place to hide and stay dry. I need to find somewhere to get food, too. My stomach is already grumbling. I’ll need whatever strength I have to fight off the cold I‘ll end up getting from this night in the freezing weather since I no longer have Gavin to look out for me.

  The city is busier than what I’m used to and people appear to be everywhere. I feel suffocated by all the bodies around me and look to find somewhere quieter.

  I keep moving until I find a quiet area in what looks to be a park and see a bench that has some cover from the rain. I wonder if cops frequent this area, looking for homeless people. It would explain why it’s empty right now.

  The darkness stops me from looking for somewhere else to sleep, so I sit on the bench and quickly curl myself up. I instantly miss the sleeping bag I left back in Phoenix, hating being so out in the open here. I hate not knowing what to expect. I hate that I no longer have Gavin. I hate that my stomach is already craving food. I hate my wet clothes and how they make my whole body shiver. I hate my life.

  “Who the fuck said you could sleep here? I own this park and I don’t recall giving you permission to be in it.”

  I jolt awake and my senses go into overdrive. I’m grabbed by the hair and thrown to the ground.

  “I asked you a question.”

  I squint into the darkness and see four pairs of legs surrounding me. I’m outnumbered. So much for having a quiet first night here.

  “It doesn’t sound like he wants to talk to us, boss,” one of the others surrounding me speaks up.

  I keep my head down. If I have learnt anything from Uncle Sid it is staying quiet and still helps keep the anger from getting worse.

  “Answer me!”

  I receive a strong kick to the ribs and think I might have heard a crack. I flip onto my back and with the dim street light a few meters away I can make out the four silhouetted men. Perhaps silence doesn’t work when they want you to speak. Uncle Sid never wanted to hear me say anything.

  “Sleeping.” I’m surprised by how much it hurts to talk, I feel out of breath and a sharp pain in my side grows worse where the boot had connected with my ribs.

  “Well, this is my park and I say who can and can’t be in it.” Another kick, but this one is to my head.

  My visions swims and I groan when more pain spreads over me. I’m then picked up and two strong arms pin my own arms back behind me. It makes my ribs hurt worse and I can’t catch my breath. Just as I manage to suck in my first breath, I feel the first punch come, striking me straight along my jaw. I think I might get whiplash when my head bounces back from the force. Then the second punch comes and it is straight into my gut. I want to double over in pain, to curl up into a ball and protect myself, but I can’t. Whoever is holding me is strong.

  Punches keep coming and after three more, I don’t bother to count. I begin thinking about Gavin. Will I see him soon? Is there a place that everyone goes to after they die?

  I hear yelling then and try to concentrate on it because whatever is being said makes the hitting stop. Is it a woman’s voice? I can’t make out what she is saying, if it is actually a she, and then I’m suddenly dropped to the ground.

  I hear several footsteps running away from me and someone else’s slowly approaching. My arms are moved, but this time the touch is kinder, softer. I still try to move away from whoever it is, feeling tired, so tired that even though I might be about to die, all I want to do is sleep. I look up into a woman’s face that’s leaning close to mine and her mouth moves, but I can’t hear what she is saying. It doesn’t seem important to listen to her. Her hand slowly comes to my face, but I let the darkness swallow me before I have a chance to flinch away from her touch.

  ***

  When I wake up, the first thing I notice is that I’m comfortable. I’m never comfortable when I wake up. Something is wrong. Opening my eyes hesitantly, I find myself in a large, plain room with at least thirty beds surrounding me. Several people are sleeping in them and most look old and fragile. A few families are off on the other side of the room, along with women who look like they’ve taken a beating recently.

  I don’t remember being here before, but know the best thing to do is to get out of here before anyone can ask me any questions. This looks like a shelter and I learned early on that staying here always means questions that’ll end with me having to talk to either a police officer or a social worker. I don’t want to have to do either.

  “Oh good, you’re awake. How do you feel?”

  I turn my head to the side and see a young woman standing with a man who must be in his late fifties. The woman looks kind and soft with blonde hair and tanned skin. The man looks harsh and I feel wary of him. He reminds me of Uncle Sid.

  “Maybe we should have taken him to the hospital like you said?” The woman leans closer to me and I lean backwards so she can’t get too close.

  “I don’t know. I thought he looked worse when you brought him in. He doesn’t seem as bad now.” The man grunts, eyeing me carefully.

  “Can you understand me?” the woman asks me kindly. “I met you last night in the park, I brought you here.”

  The woman’s words start to make sense. I remember the park and I vaguely recall a woman being there before I must have passed out. I probably owe her a thank you for saving me last night, but the words die in my throat. I don’t want to talk with that man around us. I don’t know him. Does he have a temper? Will he get angry at me if I say the wrong thing?

  “My name is Emma, this is Billy. We both work here at The Wellness Shelter. What’s your name?” Emma smiles kindly and again I want to talk to her, but hold it in.

  “Billy, would you get us some water, please?” Emma turns her kind smile onto Billy and he nods easily and leaves. She turns back to me and asks, “Are you hurt anywhere we can’t see? I really should have taken you to the hospital. I just know that most kids your age don’t want that. They ask a lot more questions there than I do.”

  I nod, feeling grateful that I hadn’t been taken to the hospital. I don’t really feel so bad. Sitting up further, I move my legs, finding I’m able to move both. I move my arms next and they don’t feel too bad, either. I’m also able to breathe fine. I lift up my shirt to look at my bruises and find new ones to look at, thanks to last night. My right side is still fully bruised all the way down my side, but it already looks to be getting lighter in color. My stomach, on the other hand, is littered with dark, angry bruises from all the hits I took.

  “Oh my Gosh, what has happened to you?” Emma gasps and I quickly pull my shirt down. I look away from her, trying to find the nearest exit. I have already been here too long. Did Billy really leave to get some water or has he gone to call the police? Or wors
e, child services?

  “Please talk to me,” Emma pleads with me as Billy returns with a glass of water and a bowl of what looks to be soup.

  Billy passes me both and it’s only my extreme hunger and thirst that allows me to take them. I ignore their prying eyes and drink the water first in only two gulps and then move over to the soup. When I have finished that, my stomach feels fuller than it has in months.

  “Where are my shoes?” I look down at myself, realizing my shoes are no longer there. I glance along the floor, but can’t see them.

  “I took them off when we put you in the bed. They had holes all through them and your feet really had grown too big for them. I threw them out.”

  “What?” I can’t believe how violated I feel, knowing she has touched my shoes while I slept and has gotten rid of them. They have kept me alive during times when it was important for me to run. Now what am I going to do? I need shoes to survive and I have no money to buy another pair.

  “We have shoes here. You can take a pair. They’re all in a lot better condition than what you were wearing.”

  “I don’t have money.”

  “They’re from donations to the shelter. You don’t have to pay for them.”

  “I don’t need your charity,” I snap, wishing I could feel differently. If Gavin were here, he would say to take it, he would say I should take whatever I can get from these people.

  “Well, consider it an apology then for throwing your old shoes away without your permission.”

  I don’t know how to answer that. I clearly need a pair of shoes. I’ll die with nothing protecting my feet.

  “Do these seem okay? They look about your size.” Emma takes a pair of shoes Billy holds out to her. I didn’t even notice he had walked away to grab them. I’m slipping. I need to pay more attention.

  I lean in and look at the pair of shoes carefully. They’re black with a white symbol that means nothing to me. They do seem like they will be okay for on the street. Black means it won’t show up most of the stuff I end up walking in; like dirt, mud, vomit or sometimes something even worse. There is even a pair of thick, grey socks stuffed in one of the shoes.