by Amy Rachiele
“What’s the matter?”
I pointed at the screen while coughing through cracker crumbs. I clicked a picture to full size. Will leaned in over my shoulder.
“Holy shit!” he cursed.
The picture was of a play that I had really zoomed in on. So much so, that you could see straight through to under the bleachers on the other side of the stadium. You could just make out through people’s sneakered feet...a face!
A girl with long hair. She appeared to have something over her mouth. I clicked to zoom in on the picture until we could see only a gagged, shadowed face. The image reminded me of a horror movie. The way her eyes screamed with terror, but no sound. Her head tilted in a struggling motion.
Will strode purposefully to the kitchen counter to get his cell phone, and immediately made a call. I heard only his end of the conversation.
“Sir,” he said loudly into the phone. “I have a picture of a possible 207 at the game last Saturday night.” (pause) “Yes sir.” (pause) “He has re-infiltrated the target’s group.” (pause) “We’re working to keep the victim safe and trying to reestablish integration.” (pause) “I realize that, Sir, but I am out of the game.” (pause) “The media piece on my death made me obsolete, Sir. This was the best course of action.”
I was trying to guess what his boss could possibly be telling him during those pauses when the vase next to the computer exploded into razor-sharp shards, scattering everywhere.
In an instant, Will had his hand on the back of my head, pushing down. I fell to the floor with him on top of me as he covered my body with his. The computer above us blasted apart. I screamed. Will crouched, taking my hand, and grabbed my camera. We made our way across the floor as more furniture burst into bits and debris flew through the air. I used my free hand to cover my head.
At the fireplace, Will lifted a large stone in front of the hearth. Underneath was a compartment filled with guns, knives, and all sorts of weapons. He took out a rifle and moved quickly, loading it and putting it down. A click-click sounded from the next weapon, a handgun.
A large backpack was nestled the right corner of the hiding place. He swung it over his shoulder, handed me the camera, and motioned for me to put it in the backpack.
With the handgun stuffed in his jeans, he picked up the rifle again. Crawling, he moved towards the back door and I followed nervously. The shooter must have had a silencer; you couldn’t hear the actual shot, just the reverberation and slicing echo the bullets made on impact. Will whispered to me when the shots slowed.
“That’s a sniper. We’re going to try to go out the back. Stay down.” He locked his eyes with mine, his face holding a sad, shocked look.
I noticed the keys sitting on a table by the side door near the kitchen. In this situation, the keys were a mile away.
“Should we get the car keys?” I whispered in a panic.
“No, let’s get out of here.”
We continued to shuffle and crawl to the back door. Will held the rifle in a ready position and pointed for me to sit over to the side. I did, realizing I had to trust that Will knew what he was doing, because I sure didn’t. Therapy would definitely need to be on my list of things to do after these days of hell.
The shots dwindled down. I hadn’t heard one in what seemed like a long while, although it was probably only a minute or two. I realized how hard my lungs were pumping with fearful breaths. It was painful.
I cast my eyes to Will who had his ear to the bottom of the door as we both sat on the floor. I started to speak, but he gave me the hand up, the universal symbol for “shut the hell up.” I shushed. We waited for what felt like years. He turned to me.
“See that window over there?” He pointed across the room. “I’m going to smash it, then you are going to slip through this door beside us and run. You got it? You’re going to get up fast and run to the woods. No matter what happens, don’t stop. I’ll be right behind you.”
I didn’t think it was possible for more fear to fill me. The terrifying thought of running from the confines of the house scared me into paralysis. I couldn’t do it! A lump the size of a mountain took up residence in my throat. I looked directly at him.
“I can’t,” I mouthed to him panic-stricken. He clutched my arm hard and stared straight into my eyes.
“Yes, you can.” He positioned me in front of the door and unlocked it. “Get ready,” he said in a harsh whisper from behind me.
I heard the window shatter and more shots hit inside the house. I swung open the door and ran. The sound of my feet hitting the dirt reverberated, then the sound shifted from pounding to crushing leaves and twigs.
It was only a few feet to the woods. Will probably thought this was our best hope. I lifted my hands in front of me as the forest thickened. Branches hit and scratched my face. I held my hands in front of me to block the leaves and twigs that jutted out in all directions. Even though it was fall, the forest was still dense. I hoped I was running in the right direction. Miraculously, it seemed, my feet keep moving mechanically.
I heard someone coming up behind me, and a jolt of new panic hit. I started to turn around to face whatever was coming.
“It’s me! Keep going!” Will called from behind.
He caught up to me and took my hand, and we ran, dodging trees, my lungs burning. The cool air mixed with my fear.
Will slowed down, finally coming to a dead stop. We both bent over, breathing hard, supporting our hands on our legs.
“Thank God,” I coughed out between breaths. “I don’t think I could have kept going.” A stitch formed in my side. I clasped it. “Owww,” I whined. Will came over, panting, and rubbed my side. The rifle and backpack were securely planted on his back.
“What do we do now?” I asked through a scary wheezing I had never experienced before.
“We need a place to hide out,” Will stated a few inches from my face.
I turned away. He lifted my shirt to rub my side some more. I flushed. His hands were cool, and it felt good on my hot, cramped side.
“Thanks.” My breathing was short, scratchy, pants. “I’m all set,” I blurted out, my chest heaving with every word.
“You’re always ‘all set.’” Will said cryptically. “We have to keep moving. Let’s go.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said, jogging a little to keep up with his fast pace.
“Nothing. We need to figure out the closest area other than Greenwich. That is the first place they’ll look for us.”
“How did Tommy find us all the way out here?” I asked. Will stopped and shifted to face me.
“Joy, that wasn’t Tommy or his group of scumbags.”
“Who was it then?”
“I’m guessing someone my boss called.”
“What!?”
Will shook his head and continued to walk.
“Derek and I were suspicious when no one came to get you. We reported your situation the next morning. Procedure is that a cop is sent to check on you, and you give a statement. Derek had to stay with Tommy. I told Derek you were okay after you dropped me off.” He sighed as if uttering all that was a chore. “The plan was for me to bait Tommy by ticking him off. We know his ‘procedure’ is to beat the shit out of people. Faking my death was supposed to rile and flush him out. And it has. You weren’t supposed to be there. When a victim turns into a witness, next thing is that an agent of the FBI takes you to a safe house until the case is secured. That part didn’t happen.” His scrubbed his face, hard, in frustration. “Derek reported the situation. He filled out the paperwork and everything. After you were located and secured, the fake report of my death was to be released. The whole thing went to hell. Derek and I discussed it; he said he would go check to make sure someone had gotten you. The paperwork was gone. No one had it. He called you, waited until dark and picked you up.” He paused. “I don’t have any choice now but to think that this is internal corruption within the bureau.” Will’s eyes expressed betrayal. “I now think that
Tommy could be working for a much higher-up smuggling cell...one that is right in my office.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Maybe there was an error with my situation. Maybe the shooter is from Tommy. Maybe he found us.”
Will paused before responding. “Joy, Tommy is just a flunky. I know that now. He’s muscle and intimidation with a little bit of smarts. There is something much bigger going on here. I think the picture you took of that girl is what set it everything off.”
We walked quietly while chewing on this new information. The more I thought about it, Will was probably right. He knew more about this stuff than I did. This was his job. This betrayal of his boss must have stung. I had no idea what to say to him or how to comfort him. This was someone he trusted and took orders from. How deep does the treachery go?
Will stopped and took a map and compass out of the backpack. He gauged our area and attempted to establish our location.
I saw my camera peeking out of the bag and took it out, using the lens to focus on my surroundings. I mulled over yesterday and my thoughts about the beauty of the world. I snapped a few pictures of the woods. The colors and hues appeared mesmerizing and ominous at the same time.
Swinging the camera towards Will, I captured his image in the view finder. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way. His features were healing up nicely, and his hair was tousled from the wind, the brown locks tossed around. My appraisal caused a little fluttering in my stomach, but I continued to watch him figure out which way to go next. He was engrossed in the map, and it surprised me when he spoke.
“Joy, what are you doing?”
I took a few pictures of him. The corners of his mouth lifted up on his profile, and I snapped some more.
“Nothing,” I said smiling mischievously. I went back to taking pictures of the landscape.
“You don’t look at me for two days. Now, in the middle of nowhere, running for our lives, you’re taking pictures of me like we’re on a leisurely hike?”
I smirked and knelt down on the ground to put the camera gently back in the pack.
“We need to head northeast,” Will said, folding up the map. He squatted down on the other side of the pack to put it in. “There is a town about fifteen miles from here called Sydney. We can walk through the woods to get most of the way there.” He peered up at me, catching me staring. I quickly flicked my eyes away from him and stood up.
“We won’t make it anywhere before it gets dark. It’s going to be dark in an hour,” I commented.
“I know, we’re going to have to go for as long as we can then sleep and continue in the morning. I want to get farther away.”
We walked for another hour and a half. Will had a small flashlight, but the light was barely enough for us to see two feet in front of us. Will checked the compass occasionally to make sure we were on the right track. The air was getting cold again. I shivered as Will pulled a bunch of stuff out of the backpack.
“Here, hold this.”
He gave me the mini-flashlight to hold so he could see into the pack. He wrenched out a sleeping bag and a thin blanket. In the side pocket, he found a couple of granola bars.
“The sleeping bag is Gore-Tex, so it should keep you nice and warm.”
“You’re just going to use that little blanket!?” I asked disbelievingly.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Here eat this.” He handed me a granola bar that I nibbled on while Will set up a makeshift camp. “Kick off your shoes and climb in.” I did what he said and settled myself inside the sleeping bag. He zipped me up, making exaggerated movements of tucking me in like a little kid. I giggled. “There you go. Are you nice and toasty?”
“Yeah, thanks,” I answered softly. He moved the pack and rifle next to him, then sat up and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders.
“Will?”
“Hmm?”
“What do you think happened to that girl in the picture? Who do you think she is?”
“I don’t know. I thought maybe she was one of the cargo.”
“Cargo?”
“Yeah, that’s what it’s called, whether it’s drugs or people. It’s called cargo.”
“That’s terrible.” I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Lying down with my body starting to relax, the horrible image from my camera came to my mind. Who was she? “I bet the FBI has some great equipment for deciphering pictures. I’m sure that the picture could be cleared up, and we could see her face.”
“That’s an idea,” Will sighed. “The only thing is I’m not really sure who to trust right now. Maybe a good night’s sleep will clear my head.”
Will apparently planned on sleeping sitting up with a little blanket on him. This guy had been through a lot. He couldn’t be comfortable.
“Will?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to share the sleeping bag? I mean...it can’t be comfortable where you are.” There was a long pause.
“That’s not a good idea. You might have to look at me.” He smiled, making me laugh.
“Nah. It’s too dark. I can’t really see you,” I jested.
Will shuffled around, laid the rifle next to me, and removed his shoes. He handed me the blanket.
“Put this inside the sleeping bag too. It will get damp with the morning dew. The Gore-Tex shouldn’t.”
I took the blanket and finagled it around inside. Will climbed in with me, and my heart raced while I waited for him to get settled. I lay on my side facing away from him. I could make out the rifle silhouette next to me. He shifted so there was a layer of blanket between us.
“I’m okay, if you want the blanket to yourself,” I offered, surmising he was cold.
“Um, no that’s not why I moved it.” Realization flowered in my brain. Oh! Good thing it was nighttime because I turned tomato-red.
“Shit.”
He leaned over me to get the rifle. His body stretched over mine, and I was given the full reason for the blanket between us...which, by the way, was a very thin blanket. The rifle passed over my head, and I could sense Will shifting onto his back. I cradled my hands under my face.
“Did you like me in school?” I asked.
“Not a good time for that question, Joy.” I thought he scrubbed his hands over his face as he sighed. He did that a lot. “...But, yes. I thought you were the prettiest girl in school...To me you were different than the rest.”
“Oh...”
“In a good way....” Will adds.
The silence between us was amplified with, literally, crickets loudly chirping all around us.
“When I saw you smile one day in the hallway...I wanted to talk to you...I just couldn’t... Then you graduated.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that shocking admission, so I didn’t say anything. I could tell he had turned over towards me, but I still lay there on my side. Will kept space between us as he continued.
“That night, when I finally focused and could slightly open my eyes after the beating, I was shocked to realize it was you. It was like God sent me an angel.” My heart raced as he stroked my hair, his voice wonderfully soothing.
I had never been in this situation before. I stayed away from anyone who hit on me and said no to anyone who asked me out. It wasn’t that I just wanted to shut people out either. It seemed a waste of time to me to go through the motions when I wasn’t interested. No one really got my heart pumping...until now.
Will was right. I didn’t really look at him. Maybe because he was different...and I was starting to fall for him. If he wanted to caress my hair for the rest of his life, like he was doing right then, I’d have let him. He angled himself closer to me in the sleeping bag.
“Joy?” he whispered softly and hesitated. “Can I kiss you?”
Like an idiot, I nodded my head. He gently pulled on my arm to get me to flip around. I didn’t budge. I was so embarrassed. If it were daylight, my face would catch fire.
“You’re gonna make me work for it, huh?”
He lifted my hair off my neck and his fingers brushed against my sensitive skin. He shifted slightly and trailed sensual kisses along the back of my neck. Sparks of pleasure shot from where his lips touched to my stomach. I moved into him a little. He gave a light laugh and slid his kisses up to the back of my ear.
It undid me like a present wrapped for Christmas. I unraveled...I think, moaned. I dizzily lost myself as passion filled me, replacing any senses I had. I reached my hand back and pulled him closer. When he tried to turn me this time, I let him. Will braced above me, kissing my neck, my cheek, the corner of my mouth. His rough chin sent chills through my hot body.
“You’re still making me work for it, Joy,” he whispered against my face. His seductive voice echoed through me, tightening the muscles low in my hips. I met his mouth with mine. Our lips were perfect together. It wasn’t enough for me, though. I needed more.
In a swift motion, I pushed him to flip onto his back and he pulled me on top of him. Our bodies lined up deliciously. The blanket was lost...gone. I didn’t want it between us anyway. I wanted to feel what I was doing to him.
His hands moved across my back to my waist and slipped in and out from the bottom of my shirt. He memorized my body in a ruthless tease, grabbing the belt loops on my jeans to hold me tighter against him. We moved together. Passion and want stuffed themselves into the empty spaces of the sleeping bag.
I had never done this before, but I knew what I wanted. I needed to get these damn jeans out of the way. I reached down between us, never breaking the kiss, to undo my jeans. A hand stopped me, and I look down perplexed.
“Joy, I’m sorry,” Will whispered. His tone and actions broke me from my daze.
“What are you sorry for?” I asked ready to get back to it.
“I did this to you...I’m sorry. We should quit while we’re ahead.” Regret sounded in his voice in the thick darkness of night. I stayed quiet and confused, our hands still on the zipper of my jeans. “I told myself I just wanted to kiss you. And I did. I really did.” He let go of my hand and scrubbed his face with his hands again. “You are so beautiful. I couldn’t help myself...You’re so reserved...I didn’t figure on this getting out of control.”
