by Dale Mayer
Her gaze flew open as she studied her surroundings without moving her head. It was a dark room, like a basement. No furniture was in front of her; the walls were gray, and a window brought in a little light but not much.
She studied the floor she lay on. It was cement, painted gray, again like a basement. But there was good news—her hands weren’t tied together.
She shifted her feet cautiously, aware every movement jarred her head and whatever injury she’d sustained there. But her feet shifted freely back and forth so, again, no ties around her ankles.
She rolled over superslowly until she was on her back. Her body relaxed in relief, and just the change in the position made her muscles cry out for joy. She stared upward, and the dusky light revealed a single bulb hanging from the center of the ceiling. A fixture was supposed to go over it, but nobody had bothered. She rolled her eyes gently, trying to see more of the room.
There were no ceiling tiles, just open rafters. Past her feet was a door in the corner that she hadn’t been able to see at the beginning of her search. So she’d been tossed into a room, and the door closed. Obviously nobody was afraid she’d get away so her hands and feet had not been bound. Given her head condition, she could see why.
She didn’t know when anybody would check on her again, but she wanted to have her head fully focused. She searched her pocket for her cell phone, swearing softly when it wasn’t there. She didn’t know if her pockets had been turned out, but, from the looks of it, she had nothing on her. Moving cautiously with one hand to her head, she used her other to push herself gently to a sitting position.
As soon as the room stopped spinning, she got to all fours and slowly stood. She gasped as the greasy waves of pain crawled up the back of her throat once more. She took several deep breaths and stumbled toward the window. She had no idea what time it was—thinking it was somewhere around eleven, maybe ten this morning, that she’d been taken.
It was still daylight outside; the odd light was from the dirt on the window. The ground was just below the windowsill, confirming she was in the basement of some building. Outside there wasn’t much grass, mostly weeds and brown dirt. She saw a busted fence in the distance. She struggled to open the window, but it was old, the latch rusty. If she had something to break it, she could possibly get it open, but she wasn’t sure, with her head like it was, if she could jump in order to climb out. Although she’d give it a damn good try if she could.
Another window was on the opposite wall. She made her way slowly to it and looked out. More broken fence. The yard was filled with someone’s garbage. She pushed on the latch and managed to get the window unlocked, and slowly she dragged it open. The trouble was, the windows were small. She wasn’t sure that, even as small as she was, she could get her shoulders through. But, if she could get up there, she thought she might be able to wiggle out far enough. Even though she knew it was futile, she turned once more to search the room, looking for a chair or a stool, a cardboard box, anything to give herself a boost up.
She was pretty damn short, and this was one of those times she knew it was a flaw. But she was fit—other than the damn blow to her head—and the cement wall had been painted but wasn’t terribly slippery. She wasn’t wearing any shoes, which she thought was odd. But still, it gave her an idea. Maybe her bare feet would make it easier to climb.
Knowing that the pain would explode in her head anytime now and that the men could return in a split second too, she grasped the window frame itself and clambered up, shoving her head and shoulders through the opening, the pain in her head be damned.
It was a tight squeeze, and she worried she might get stuck in the middle. But when she heard a sound below, she panicked and pushed herself fully through, scraping her arms in the process. Her hips came through easily, and she tumbled to the dirt on the other side. She groaned, gasping her temples once again as blackness threatened to overtake her. She closed the window and hurriedly slipped into the sparse shrubbery beside the house.
With no idea where to go but knowing she had to choose a route that wouldn’t cross anybody’s line of sight from inside the building, she snuck around to the side of the house and took a look out front. The fence was broken, and several trees were off to the left. If she could get there, she might make her way around the fence into the neighbor’s yard, then dart to the cars and thereafter disappear.
It was only a half-assed escape plan, but she had to do something fast before somebody found out she was missing. Because then the search would be on, and she knew she’d never get another chance.
Putting her plan into action, she nimbly sprinted across the grass and slid into the tree line. Her head was booming now. She reached up to find fresh blood pouring down her cheek. But there was no time for it. She made her way around the fence and contemplated her options.
There was a car close by. If she could sneak to the other side of it, she might be able to sneak up that side of the road.
More trees were up ahead. She slipped behind them and leaned against one, gasping. A car drove down the street, slowed to look at her but kept going. She realized how she must look. But she didn’t dare stop just anybody driving by in this neighborhood. With her hand over her head wound, she stumbled forward, knowing she was leaving a bloody trail behind her. But that couldn’t be helped either.
At the corner she had to choose left or right. She could hear traffic more on the right, so she crossed the road towards it and kept going. She walked and walked but never saw anybody. There was nobody to ask for help, nobody to ask for a phone. She was hoping for a store or a gas station. All the houses in this area were dilapidated, the yards unkempt, weeds overgrown. It looked like a pretty rough area. This was the last place she wanted to be.
She kept walking, even though she passed a couple people. They were either laughing or jeering, but nobody stopped to help her. Neither did she ask them for help. She made it to the corner and found a cement barricade. Needing to sit down for a moment, she sat on the other side, hidden from view, while she caught her breath.
Her head was really bleeding now.
She was at a dead end. The city had obviously put up these barricades to stop people from driving through. Instead of looking like a better neighborhood, the houses looked even worse.
And that was as much of a worry as anything.
She tried to recollect her thoughts, knowing she needed to contact Warrick or the police. If she could just find a gas station, a corner store, or someplace where maybe somebody would give her a hand. She didn’t dare knock on any of these doors. And, although vehicles drove past her every once in a while, nobody stopped.
Feeling slightly better when the nausea calmed down, she slowly stood, looked around and saw an intersection up ahead.
Walking gingerly because of the damage done to her bare feet from running on cement and rough stones, she made her way to the intersection and read the two street signs. She was at Laurel and Willow. None of that made sense to her dazed mind.
She tried to figure out where she was, but nothing came to mind. A vehicle stopped at the intersection. There was a woman driving. Penny reached out a hand and waved at her.
The woman went through, passed her, then stopped. She hopped out of the vehicle. “Are you okay?”
Penny shook her head. And then cried out from the pain. It sent her to her knees.
“I’ll call the police for you,” the woman said.
Penny waved her hand this time in acknowledgment. She could hear the woman talking, but then the woman got in the vehicle and drove off.
Penny groaned.
It was probably due to the neighborhood as much as anything else. But what was Penny to do now? Sit here and wait? How long would it take for the police to come? And had the woman called the police or had her husband told her to get the hell out of there before somebody came after her? Penny didn’t know and wasn’t sure what to do. But her brain kept slamming against her skull so badly that she knew she would vomit any second.
She sat huddled on the street, waiting for the waves of nausea to ease back.
When they finally did, she used the fence beside her to stand back up. She leaned against it, figuring out what to do. The intersection gave her hope. It meant traffic, not deserted roads ending up nowhere.
This was important; she just didn’t know how to make good use of the knowledge yet. Just as she crossed the road, a truck came up behind her. There were shouts. She turned, saw two men racing toward her, and she cried out, starting to run. But she wasn’t fast enough. One of the men grabbed her. The truck pulled up behind her, and she was tossed into the back, her head bouncing on the bed. She cried out in pain and screamed, “No! Stop! Leave me alone. Let me go.”
And then a blow smacked her up the side of her head, and darkness claimed her.
*
Warrick stared at Tanner. “Did you just say the police got a call?”
They drove Penny’s Kia through the known territory where the drug lord/loan shark operated, searching for any place where they might have taken Penny. It was the only hope they had. They were due to meet said loan sharks in fifteen minutes. The cops were doing their thing, but Warrick and Tanner decided not to sit idly waiting.
They had the location for the drop. They had scoped out the area. It was a park, and, as much as they liked parks for things like this, it also meant a lot of people and a lot of places to hide.
Tanner said, “That was a detective. Somebody just called in. A woman needed help at the corner of Willow and Laurel. But, when the cops got there, nobody was there.”
“Did they get a description?”
“The woman who called it in took a picture, and it was Penny.”
Warrick hit the brakes, pulled off to the side of the road. “Are you sure?”
“He’s sending me the photo.” His phone buzzed. He brought up the photo, and Warrick heard him suck in his breath.
Warrick took a look to see it was definitely Penny curled up in a ball on the street, blood flowing down the side of her head. She looked lost and terrorized. “Why the hell didn’t the damn woman do more to help her? Just get her in her car and drive away with her?”
“She was scared. It’s a pretty rough neighborhood, and she was afraid whoever had done this would come after her. The cops have already contacted her. She led them back to where she’d seen Penny, but there’s no sign of her. There is, however, blood. They’re tracking it back to where they might have kept her.”
Warrick stared at him. “What the hell are we supposed to do now? We don’t have enough time to track Penny, get to the park in time for the drop-off. I gather she tried to escape.”
“The kidnappers are supposed to be bringing Penny to the park. Keep that in mind,” Tanner said.
“It’s not enough.” Warrick’s voice went dark. “We should have gone after her.”
“Gone after her where? We didn’t have a clue. The getaway vehicle was too far ahead of us to follow them. Even the souped-up black-and-whites that came around the block right at that time lost her, remember?”
Warrick sat here for a long moment, his eyes closed, remembering the black-and-white cop cars taking off behind the vehicle that had been taunting them, knowing Penny was likely with them. But to think she had escaped from her kidnappers was massive.
“Do you think they’re searching for her?” Tanner asked.
“Oh, hell yeah, they’re after her. They need her for the exchange.”
“And what if they don’t find her?”
“Then we’re in trouble. Not only that, they’ll know they’re in trouble.”
“They do have cops at the scene, trying to track the blood back to where she came from. But the trail goes for blocks.” Tanner read the text from the detective that just came in.
“Tell the cops to stick with it. It’ll be one of those run-down houses. She came from somewhere.”
“You’re a better tracker than they are,” Tanner said.
Warrick nodded, hit the gas, and, within four minutes, they were at the location she’d been found. “Give me six minutes. We have to get to that damn park on time.”
Up ahead he could see the cops talking to each other, but he ignored them. He ran as fast as he could, easily picking up the blood drops as Penny made her way that far.
He could see where she had stopped and sat against a cement barricade and kept on down the block. He moved as fast as he dared. Time was beyond being a limitation here. Even if they found the house where Penny had escaped from, it didn’t mean she was there anymore. If they’d picked her up, then they could already be on the way to the park with her. Warrick tracked the trail back to where he lost it at a wooded fenced-in area. On the other side was a pretty run-down house. He noted the address, and, when Tanner pulled up beside him, he hopped into the front seat. “I lost the trail here.”
Tanner turned the car around and drove toward the park.
Warrick called the detective. “I tracked the blood back to a house.” He gave them the address. “I looked but didn’t see any sign of her. I imagine they have her and are on their way to the park.”
“I’m at the park now,” the detective said. “We have a policeman doing the drop. He’s in plain clothes, sitting on a park bench. The exchange is due to take place in ten minutes. But I’ll send men to the address and check.”
“We’ll be at the park in five,” Tanner said.
“We’ll set up a perimeter search,” Warrick told the detective. “Make sure you don’t hand over the money if you don’t see Penny.”
The detective’s voice was hard. “We’ll do our job. You stay out of our way.”
Warrick gave a hard laugh. “Hell no. I’m not leaving until I know Penny is safe. And, if these assholes have her stashed, you can bet they’re not leaving until I know where she is.” He hung up the phone.
“It’s not too wise to piss off the cops,” Tanner said.
“Then he shouldn’t say something so stupid,” Warrick snapped. “No way I’m leaving until I’ve got Penny back in my arms.”
Tanner nodded. “Understood.”
“Exactly,” Warrick said. “This is just too unbelievable. To think she escaped and then was picked up again.”
“But we don’t know that for sure.”
Warrick gave him a hard glance. “I know. That makes it almost worse. What if some other asshole took advantage of her situation and picked her up? What if she’s fallen into a ditch somewhere, and I missed the blood trail?”
“Trust that she’s damn smart enough to have escaped in the first place. She’s not just a smart cookie, she’s got a lot of common sense. Let’s give her a chance.” Tanner pulled into the park, driving around to the far side. He parked beside a black-and-white.
They hopped out and disappeared into the tree line. Warrick could see the plainclothes man sitting on a bench with a briefcase beside him, playing on his phone. It was hard not to miss a cop, even when they weren’t dressed like one.
“Do you think he really doesn’t see how obvious he is?” Tanner asked.
“Maybe he means to be. Keeps everybody else at bay.”
They quickly did a search around the area, their gazes moving constantly. What Warrick was most concerned about was a gunman, snipers, anybody hidden who could take out the cops—or Penny.
That wasn’t these goons. They were after their money, and they didn’t give a shit who paid, just so they got it. But sometimes everybody had to take a loss. As far as Warrick was concerned, the loan sharks would take the loss tonight.
As they approached the parking lot again, two vehicles pulled in, both black, both with dark tinted windows.
Tanner grabbed his arm.
“I see them.”
Two men got out, one from each of the vehicles. They headed toward the center of the park and sat down on the bench beside the guy with the money. He talked to them; both shook their heads. They pointed to the briefcase; he shook his head and pointed to the cars.
One man
pulled out his phone and called somebody. The back doors on the second vehicle opened, and, sure enough, two more men got out. One was from from the restaurant. He reached back inside the vehicle and pulled out a limp form, carrying her like a child.
Warrick’s breath caught in the back of his throat. Anger curled in his gut, and his fingers clenched as he realized it was Penny, unconscious, limp in the man’s arms. Warrick knew that, when he was done talking, he would just drop her on the ground, and her head would get smashed yet again.
Tanner gripped his forearm. “Easy.”
A growl came from the back of his throat. Warrick would rip that man in two for what he’d done to Penny. “How many in the other car?” he gritted out.
“I’ll find out.” Tanner disappeared.
The man carrying Penny walked toward the bench and, in front of everybody, propped her up so she was leaning against the plainclothes detective. The detective’s face held anger and pain. Warrick worried there was a good chance Penny wasn’t alive.
She didn’t move—her body just dropped where it had been placed. He’d never felt an anger driving through him like it did right now.
He watched Tanner come up behind the car on the driver’s side. He knew from the hand Tanner held up one more man was inside the car.
As Tanner crouched down, he opened the door only a slight bit. Warrick didn’t think the man sitting on the park bench had any idea what was going on. Just as suddenly the door clicked closed again. And Tanner was behind their car. Two men and Penny had come out of the other vehicle. How many more were there? Warrick waited for Tanner to make that assessment.
If not many, there was a good chance Warrick could take out those assholes too. He waited and watched. The men on the bench discussed something. One of the goons had a weapon. It was held against Penny’s side. Instead of being angry, he felt nothing but relief because, if they were holding a weapon on her, that meant she was still alive.
