Kaley obeyed, and kept her hands cupped over Shannon’s eyes because there was still one more body in the yard, just beyond the doorstep. He was facedown, two bullet holes in his back and one in his head. He didn’t have a gun anywhere near him, just a pocketknife in his hand but unopened. He looked like he had crawled a bit because the blood trail was smeared behind him, all the way up to the doorstep. Almost made it, Kaley thought. All of them. Almost made it out. But Oni drew down first.
The El Camino and the Expedition that had brought them here were both parked side by side in the yard. She thought, Which one will we take? The answer was neither. They kept moving towards the woods, away from the vehicles and the street. Where is he taking us? We can’t get far on foot. Somebody will call the police about the gunshots.
But on consideration, Kaley figured that wasn’t likely, either. This street was desolate, like the world in that movie Book of Eli, and while the center of the Bluff could be a ghost town this late at night, especially with it this cold, she knew that this wasn’t anywhere near the center of the Bluff. Where are we? How far outside Vine an’ English did they take us?
Barefoot and trembling in the cold, the two girls walked ahead of their last surviving captor. They stumbled when Shannon stepped on one of many discarded bottles and it rolled beneath her foot. Kaley’s feet were fine stepping on twigs and sharp fallen branches, because she went barefoot everywhere around their neighborhood, unless she was traveling far, and so her feet were hard and callused. But she worried about Shannon, who never went around the house without both socks and shoes on, much less anywhere else in the world.
“Move,” came the same command as ever. “Move.”
They stepped around a piece of corrugated steel that lay half buried in the soil. Kaley glanced across the street to the only other house around. It was a boarded-up structure on the verge of collapse, as many were in the Bluff (but she still didn’t think this was the Bluff), and had various designs and phrases spray-painted, including one that said FUCK KASIM REED, and another that just said CRIPS. A crack house, probably, one condemned and belonging to everyone and no one. There were no lights on in the house. Nobody to pay the light bill. No help’s comin’ from there, she thought.
There were a few clouds out now, though the moon still shone true. There was a dampness in the air. Kaley predicted rain within the next hour or so, but that wasn’t her charm at work. Or was it? She’d often predicted when it was going to rain, grabbing a raincoat and tossing Shannon hers on mornings when there had been nothing but skies as clear as the water in heaven. But it won’t rain for long. Just a drizzle. For half an hour, no more.
They walked about forty steps into the woods before Oni hissed, “Stop! Wait here.”
They did. Kaley turned to look at him. After a few minutes, Shannon reached up with quivering hands and slowly pushed her big sister’s hands away from her eyes so that she could have a look around. Kaley almost resisted, but figured, What’s the hurt now?
They were in deep darkness, barely able to see each other’s face in the pale moonlight and what faded orange glow made it through the trees from the streetlights. Nearby, there was a large rock covered in lichen. Except for their breathing and a dog barking a mile or more away, there was no sound. Not even twigs fell out here. The silence was inutterably complete.
Kaley chanced a looked up at Oni, who seemed to sense her look even though he never glanced at her. “We wait,” he said. His tone made it a warning.
Part of Kaley wondered if Oni had the charm, too. Then she decided that, no, that wasn’t possible. Anyone blessed with the extreme empathy that the charm granted could never be doing what he was doing.
Kaley reached out and hugged Shannon, who had started whimpering loudly. She wanted to say, “Shhhhh.” Such a simple appeasement, requiring no articulation at all, but with the gag still in her mouth she couldn’t even give her sister that much. Part of her reached out for her mother, trying to pray or wish some kind of heroic action on her part. But another part of her knew that was eternally hopeless. We’re all alone. We’re going to be sold or killed or something.
A little over an hour ago she had been buying groceries and playing White Ninja with her little sister. Back then, ten thousand years ago, it seemed like that was all there was, all there would ever be. Kaley had grown up hearing gunshots late at night, had gotten used to them, but none of it had ever been directed at her or hers. She had survived just fine, not getting mixed up in the gang nonsense, and, for all her mother’s faults, neither had she. We were fine an’ clear.
True. They were fine and happy until tonight. I should’ve known when I saw that white man. I should’ve known that something wasn’t right about tonight. Then, she corrected herself. I did know. I knew and I did nothin’ about it. Now Shannon and I are—
Are what? What was going to happen to them? Kaley knew, just like she had known about the pale white man. And, just like inside Dodson’s Store, she didn’t want to admit it to herself that she knew where all of this was going. She was ignoring something else her charm was telling her. It was there, just in her periphery, a monster in a dream that somehow the dream told you wouldn’t hurt you as long as you didn’t look at it, if you didn’t even think about it.
Instead, Kaley retreated to meditating on what might help them. Mom was out of the question. The cops? She wanted to believe that. Officer LeBlanc at English Avenue Middle School was certainly the kind of police officer one could trust to care, but the cops at EAMS knew the kids personally, and that’s why they had always seemed so caring, especially LeBlanc. Other cops wouldn’t car as much. Kaley knew enough about how the world worked to know that Officer LeBlanc and others from EAMS wouldn’t be the ones assigned to track her and her sister down. Some detectives or somethin’. People who don’t even know us. Will they care? They’re supposed to.
That wasn’t reassuring. Kaley had lived in the Bluff all her life. She had seen how the police treated everyone who lived in Vine City and on English Avenue, had seen how they viewed her and her kind with skepticism. She had seen the dull, listless faces of the officers who took Ricky’s statement when he’d reported that their house had been broken into and two men he knew had made off with their TV and a CD player before he could catch them. It was the same look the two policemen had given Jamal Rhinehardt on Beltway when he’d described the three Crips that beat the tar out of him. Disinterested, mandatory, and dutiful; all these words she’d learned from EAMS, and all these words described the police in an around the Bluff. No one would never accuse them of being passionate about their jobs.
Who, then? she thought. Who’s gonna come for us? The immediate and obvious answer was no one. Mac, the clerk at Dodson’s, would almost assuredly report it, but he wouldn’t and couldn’t be expected to pound the pavement. Especially now that we’re not in the Bluff.
So now, Kaley was down to the ultimate conclusion. I have to get us out of this.
She glanced at Oni’s gun, but he kept it in his left hand, away from her. By choice? she wondered. Is the gun in his far hand because he senses an ulterior motive in me? Oni seemed like a thug, but Kaley sensed he had a mind of meddle. He was one who liked to interfere with others’ schemes, thus developed counter-schemes of his own. Not brilliant, but sharp. After all, he’d gotten the trust of the other kidnappers, hadn’t he? They’d trusted him so much they hadn’t had time to draw down and return much fire.
So she wouldn’t be able to reach the gun. So what to do, then? Kaley thought about a distraction, or of just rushing him. Yes, rushing him. Her mind was alternating between sluggish and harried. In that moment, rushing Oni seemed like a plan. It was no great plan, but at least it was a plan. If she got lucky, she might even be able to scramble for the gun. If I take him by complete surprise, he might even drop it or something.
Kaley made her decision. They were alone out here and if she could tackle him at his legs, it might give Shan the chance to run. That’s all I need to give her.
A chance to run. Out here in the dark, Oni will never find her. A Black Ninja vanishing in the night.
She raised her hands away from her sister, having to pry Shannon away with both her arms and her heart. Kaley sent waves of assurances, and when their eyes met in the moonlight, Big Sister made Little Sister understand what she must do. They nodded. There was an understanding, a shared plan. Kaley would tackle him, potentially sacrificing herself, and Shan would run. It was a horrible yet persuasive idea. Persuasive, because Shan would survive. That was what Big Sister was for. That was what she functioned for.
The sisters touched one last time. Then, Big Sister severed the Anchor, and turned to face their tormentor.
Kaley turned slowly away from Shannon, who was still sniffling, still keeping up her part in this game. Then, all at once, she felt worry wash over her, and Shannon reached out to touch her elbow. When Kaley looked back, Shannon was shaking her head. Kaley gave a sharp but almost imperceptible nod. Shannon was terrified that Big Sister would be killed if she tried. Kaley tried to send her a wave that told her this was their best shot, their only shot to be free of Oni. She would dive at his legs—his knees, because those were the weakest and would buckle, causing Oni to topple—and Shan would have a few seconds’ head start.
Shannon shook her head again vehemently.
Kaley turned away from Little Sister, and huffed up the courage. Then, there was the sound of a rumbling engine and squeaky brakes. Headlights splashed across the street, blinked twice, and Oni reached down to snatch her up by the collar. “Come on. We go.”
There was a terrible instant when Kaley felt conflicted. She felt the moment slipping away. Her focus dwindled, and her courage with it. Because she was now susceptible to Little Sister’s fear, which washed over her and utterly drowned the part of her that had devised the plan and built up to it, she was diminished.
They stepped out of the cover of woods and onto the street. The girls were shoved ahead of Oni. The car pulled up to them and slowed down. It was a dark-red Dodge Durango with tinted windows. The back door opened for them, and in the back seats were two white men, both of them blonde and wearing black jackets, both of their faces and hands adorned with various tattoos.
“Get in,” said Oni from behind.
Kaley had one last moment where she thought she would proceed with her plan, but the barrel touched the back of her head, convincing her not to. He doesn’t have the charm, but he does have something. He knows what I’m thinking.
Kaley climbed meekly into the back seat, Oni behind them. The door was shut behind her and for a horrifying moment she thought Shannon was being taken someplace else. She started to struggle but stopped when Shan was brought around to the back hatch and shoved inside, landing beside someone else. There was another girl there, a black girl a few years older than Shan who was similarly bound and gagged. She wore a red coat and tattered blue jeans. A silver locket hung from around her neck, one that she clutched as she stared up at Kaley hopefully.
The girl looked passing familiar, but Kaley couldn’t place the face.
Kaley felt the young girl’s heart leap, then deflate when she saw that Kaley and her sister were in the same boat she was. She felt the young girl’s hope diminish just like hers had in the woods only seconds ago.
Oni hopped into the front passenger seat. To the driver, he said, “Zdravstvujte, dorogaya moya.” He blew kisses at the driver, a man even larger than Oni and who reached out and smacked him across the face, laughing.
On either side of Kaley, there was a pair of men who might’ve been twin brothers—buzzed blonde hair and cold hazel eyes. The only thing that separated them was the one on the left had yellowish skin, what Kaley had learned in school was called jaundiced skin. They all chuckled, and the jaundiced man pulled out a cell phone and started chatting leisurely with someone. Kaley wanted to scream for help, that maybe the person on the other end would hear and come to save them, but her charm told her that that wouldn’t help at all. She could feel the comfort the jaundiced man had with his conversation partner. He’s talking to someone who’s just like him. Someone who wouldn’t care if they heard a screaming girl.
As they started to drive off, Kaley looked back at Shannon, who was staring across at the other bound girl. For a moment, they shared a connection. They were both too frightened to know what was really happening to them, and far too petrified to move or do anything besides wonder what horrors waited for them.
“Don’t worry, little girls,” said Oni from the front seat. Kaley turned to look at him. He had twisted in his seat and was smiling back at her. “Don’t worry. We fuck you soon.”
The SUV erupted in laughter. The aggregate of her sister and the other girl in the back seat was almost impossible to take without passing out. Kaley cast her eyes down at her knees, wishing she could turn back time and tackled Oni in the woods while the son of a bitch wasn’t expecting it. That’s the second time I’ve not listened to my gut tonight, she thought. Kaley made a solemn vow to herself. There will not be a third! God as my witness, there will not be a third!
The truck was found at 12:42 AM on the south end of Joseph E. Boone Boulevard. It certainly matched the description that the clerk at Dodson’s Store had described. The Tacoma’s license plate had it from Troup County.
The plate’s almost certainly been switched with another vehicle’s, David Emerson thought. If so, then trying to track it down would do little good, because the owner of the other vehicle, whose license plate this really was, probably wouldn’t know his license plate had been swapped for someone else’s for quite some time. Few people knew their own license plate number, or knew when it had been swapped. They’d have to find this license plate’s true owner, wherever he was (hopefully close-ish), take a look at his license plate, and then figure out who this Tacoma truly belonged to.
David had pulled on his raincoat since a drizzle had started. He handed Beatrice a Slim Jim to open the driver’s side door. She popped the door, and began checking inside with her Mag-Lite while David bent to one knee and checked beneath the carriage. So far, they hadn’t found anything suspicious or illicit—no weed, no coke, no meth, and no weapons of any kind.
Headlights poured over the car. He looked up. A black sedan had come up. It was one of the dicks, but he didn’t know which one until the mountain stepped out of the car.
Leon Hulsey looked as impermeable as a brick wall. He was a regular down at the gym, and David knew him well. The guy had been a beat cop with the APD for almost a decade, working Zone One (the area containing the Bluff) that whole time before finally taking the exam that put him in the League of Detectives, as Hulsey was known to refer to it. He was a comic book fan, and his favorite team was the Justice League. David happened to know that Hulsey had a Superman symbol tattooed on his left pectoral, and that it was large enough that it had excluded him from undercover work years ago. A much too obvious and defining mark that wouldn’t be forgotten by Atlanta’s underworld.
Hulsey was an old hard ass with very little sense of humor. Gerard Laurent in Robbery/Homicide said that Hulsey had it amputated the first week he started working the Adult Missing Persons Squad.
And that was the thing. David knew Hulsey worked the Adult Missing Persons Squad, not Missing and Exploited Children. “Hey, Hulsey. What’re you doing here?”
“I was closer than anybody else, I suppose,” he said, extending his hand. They shook hands briefly, and then Hulsey put on a pair of rubber gloves and looked ready to give a rectal exam. “You guys find anything yet?”
“No.”
“Called the tow company?” His breath smelled like Tic Tacs.
“Yep. They’re on their way. Hopefully forensics can find a print or a hidden compartment that’ll give us something.”
Detective Hulsey pursed his lips. “I doubt there’s a compartment large enough to hide two little girls in here.”
David stiffened. “That’s not exactly what I meant, but…” But he didn’t finish his
statement. It wasn’t necessary. Hulsey was moving on around the car and ignoring him now.
“Beatrice,” Hulsey said. “How’s things?”
“Good,” she sighed, and pulled the hood of her raincoat up over her head.
Hulsey had no raincoat or umbrella. He just turned up the collar of his long coat and walked, for all intents and purposes oblivious to the rain. “Howard and the kids all right?”
“Yep. Right as rain.”
“Keepin’ ’em all straight, huh?” he said without a smile. Asking generic questions about home life was the closest Hulsey ever got to being amiable.
“You know it,” Beatrice said.
David walked over to join them. Hulsey had already reached beside the steering wheel to pop the trunk. He walked around and opened it wide, glanced at a few things, and nodded to himself. “Something?” David said.
“I got an update from dispatch just before I got here,” Hulsey said. “A Tacoma was reported stolen outside of a Great Clips hair salon in Troup County about this time yesterday. The owner said he had just replaced the alternator and the battery. I can see here that both are new. Looks like we got our stolen Tacoma.”
“Fella did this knows how to hotwire,” David said. He waved Hulsey over and showed him, aiming his flashlight at where the ignition cover had been removed at the steering column and the power and starter wires had been connected. Other wires were still hanging out like the entrails of a gutted chipmunk.
“Hm,” said the detective.
David saw that look on Hulsey’s face, and said, “What’s up?”
Large, callused hands touched the space just beneath his iron chin, and tapped it a couple of times, like he expected a fresh thought to pop up. “The guys in Troup County said that another stolen vehicle was found about a quarter-mile hike from where the Tacoma was stolen. The vehicle was a Chevy Blazer, reported stolen in Muscogee County off a turnpike. Not too far from where the Blazer was reported stolen, Muscogee police found a Dodge Grand Caravan that was taken from Tallapoosa County.” He reached in to touch the dangling wires. “That’s in Alabama,” he said over his shoulder.
Psycho Save Us Page 10
