I was pretty sure few eighteen-year-olds had a chance to look at their dad and realize how awesome their parent was. But as he came down the stairs, I wanted to know everything about him. He was so much cooler than I ever imagined.
"What happened to him?"
Rob cast a glance at the stairs, then turned to the box, gesturing for me to answer.
I caught my dad up, briefly stating events without any of the internal dialogue. I was in a room with two men I was beginning to think might be superheroes.
No way was I letting them know how scared I was.
"He grabbed my foot and I kicked him. Rob thinks I'm may have broken his neck."
Saying it aloud made me grimace. A broken neck wasn't any better than death. Depending on someone's viewpoint, paralysis was often seen as a worse fate. Then again, it was his own fault for grabbing my ankle and trying to pull me down the stairs. When you evoke every basement horror movie in history, you're entitled to whatever happens to you next.
My dad hummed with interest, picking his way down the stairs without any urgency before crouching down to check for a pulse the same as Rob had done earlier. He stood and gave me a smile. "Not too bad for your first adventure. I’m proud of you."
My cheeks felt hot, but I couldn’t answer. I didn't know what to say as filled with guilt, fear, and concern for my friend as I was. My dad left the man and joined us. By now, Rob had peeled enough of the cardboard back along the side closest to me that I could see a large smooth grey surface inside.
A safe?
"Oh, damn. I'm guessing that's what he meant when he said there wasn't much air," Rob muttered under his breath, moving faster.
He didn’t stop until he had taken all of the cardboard off the large, metallic grey box within. It was about five feet high and four feet wide. I gulped. How much air did that give Paul? Not enough, I was sure. My dad must have had the same idea because he brushed past me to examine the lock, which was now visible.
"Can you rip it open, using your strength?" I looked at Rob hopefully.
He shook his head. "No, it's not that kind of a mechanism. If I tried to rip off the lock, it's going to make it so we don't have a way to get in. I believe this is a job for your dad."
I turned to him and he smiled when my eyes widened. "Yeah, yeah, I know you’ve got questions. I promise, I'll explain everything later. All you need to know right now is that an ability with numbers and tech is part of what I bring to my job."
I nodded dumbly as my dad placed one hand on the lock and closed his eyes, something flashing in them, which startled me. When he opened them again, he was just my dad. Then, as though he’d always had the combination, he punched in a string of numbers without pause before cranking the lock mechanism to the right.
I held my breath as I waited, recognizing the glorious sound of success as the tumblers fell into place. Stepping back, he gestured for Rob to do the honors. When he did, the door swung open to reveal the unconscious form of my best friend.
For a moment, I thought we’d been too late.
Then with a groan, Paul fell forward, landing in Rob's waiting arms.
Chapter 12
The detective caught him, somehow making it look easy even though Paul had a good twenty pounds of solid muscle on me. I wondered just how strong Rob was but instantly forgot my curiosity as Paul’s eyes fluttered open.
Crowding closer, I couldn’t help the questions that poured out. “Paul! Can you hear me? Where does it hurt? Can you tell us what happened?"
My dad's hand pressed gently on my arm and made me stop. As eager as I was for answers, Paul had just opened his eyes.
He was blinking with confusion as he sucked in air like he’d just been clotheslined. I had no idea how close he’d been to running out of air, but it was obvious we’d gotten to him in the nick of time. One side of his face was horribly disfigured from bruising and swelling, but his non-affected eye filled with tears as he recognized me. "Mark."
I could hear relief and pain in equal measure and leaned closer, careful not to lean on him as I brushed his hair out of his good eye.
"I'm here, buddy. Don't worry, we're going to get you to the hospital, STAT. You don't have to tell me anything until later. I'm just happy we found you in time."
As he slipped back into unconsciousness, my worry increased. I could see Rob was supporting his weight, and the bruising on his face was so bad I feared he’d have brain damage from it. No point in thinking about that now though. We’d found him alive and that was what mattered.
Now, we just had to get out.
During the time we’d been concentrating on getting Paul out of the safe I’d dropped my guard. Luckily, no one had come through the door while I was distracted, but the stairs looked far more steep than they had on the way down.
"Now what? How are we going to get him out of here?"
My dad put his hand on my shoulder. "SWAT already has the building surrounded. It took longer than I expected to join you because I had to ensure we wouldn't have any surprises."
I blinked. "The other kidnapper?"
He smiled. "If he's in the building, he's already been arrested. In fact," he turned, pulling the radio out and speaking to somebody else in a language I wasn’t sure was entirely English. When he was finished, he clicked it off and replaced it on his belt loop. "The bus is outside. They’ll send in the paramedics now."
“What bus?"
My dad called a bus? That didn’t make any sense.
Rob smiled, gently laying Paul down on the floor and balling up his jacket behind my friend’s head. "Ambulance. And speak of the devils now."
The sound of boots on the stairs made me flinch. I know he’d said we were safe, but I was more relieved than I thought I’d be at the sight of the uniformed paramedics descending with a stretcher. To my surprise, they bypassed the man at the base of the stairs and made a direct path to Paul, placing the stretcher down next to him.
One of the paramedics started to unpack a large bag while the other turned to Rob and began to ask questions as she glanced between him and Paul. "What are we looking at?"
The paramedic who’d asked was a solid looking, forty something-year-old woman whose hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail. Her eyes were kind and her face showed no sign of distress as she listened to Rob’s mental checklist.
“18-year-old male. Kidnapped early this morning. We just removed him from an airtight safe. He was breathing when we found him and didn't need resusc. He was awake briefly, long enough to say his friend's name, then passed out again."
She nodded, pulling out a stethoscope and listening to his chest before slinging it around her neck. "Did he know where he was?"
Rob shrugged. "We asked, but after saying ‘Mark,’ he lost consciousness again."
She pressed her lips together and turned her attention to Paul, gently pushing on his stomach, then both arms and legs. When she reached his right calf, he groaned.
I winced. If it hurt bad enough to elicit that reaction while unconscious, it was probably bad enough to be broken. My suspicion was confirmed when she clucked and grabbed a wicked-looking pair of shears, cutting along the seam of his jeans. Once she exposed the skin, it was easy to see a nasty-looking bruise had already spread across his shin, highlighting how his skin was tenting in a way that was far from normal.
Her partner, a guy who didn't look much older than I was, pulled out a weird looking bandage and placed it on either side of Paul’s leg. It inflated, then he wrapped it up, immobilizing the leg above and below the injured area.
"Do you mind giving us a hand?"
The older paramedic jerked her head in Rob’s direction as the younger one lifted Paul near his thighs. Rob appeared to know what she wanted him to do as he moved to Paul's head, and carefully rolled him from the shoulders as she efficiently palpated his spine and neck.
When she nodded again, my dad moved the stretcher, sliding it beneath Paul before Rob and the younger medic rolled him like a board
on top of it, laying him down so he didn’t bend along his spine. Moving in unison, the paramedics next placed foam blocks around his head before strapping him down onto the stretcher and lifting him.
"They're sending a second bus for the other guy. I am assuming you wanted this one to go first?" She raised her eyebrow.
A look I didn’t understand passed between her and Rob, and when he nodded, she gave a bland smile.
"They’ll be here any minute. If you'd like to do something, you can make sure he's still breathing."
From that moment on, things sped into a blur. The other paramedics showed up hardly a minute after Paul had been moved upstairs and out of the building. I felt like a zombie as I walked through the empty hall, the same buzzing, florescent light flickering off and on, adding to the surreal feel of all the activity.
My dad said SWAT was here, but the hallway was as empty as it had been when we entered. It wasn't until we were outside, breathing the beautiful June air and listening as birds sang incongruously in a tree beside the bar that I saw them.
Four vans, no, make that five, were parked in a variety of angles next to the building. Two blocked the door as we exited, and once we were outside I could see another two, along with two marked police cars with lights but thankfully no sirens.
I didn’t think my head could take that after the night I’d had.
In the backseat of one of the police cars, I recognized the smaller man from my dream. That was when I knew it was over. They had gotten the second kidnapper.
The other car had someone else I didn't recognize in the back but after a cursory look, I focused on the ambulance. The young paramedic who’d helped Paul was pulling away and someone clapped me on my shoulder.
"Well, looks like everything is over for now."
I turned to see Rob beside me, standing with his legs hip-width apart and arms crossed, sunglasses on. He looked every inch the cool detective from any TV show I’d seen. Like he’d just finished another boring day on the job solving crimes.
I wanted to look like that someday.
He tilted his head, looking at me over the top of his glasses. "Your dad said he was making steak for supper. You still have those beers?"
In spite all of the strangeness, or perhaps because of it, a laugh bubbled out, surprising me before I could stop it. It took a minute until I was calm enough to answer. "Yeah. I'm really looking forward to it. Are you coming over?"
Rob pushed his glasses up and slapped me on the back. "Looks like I've got some paperwork to do first. Catch you later."
He threw my dad a two finger salute before walking toward a grizzled man holding a clipboard, surrounded by guys wearing SWAT vests.
Alone with my dad, I wondered what I was supposed to do now. I’d assumed we were supposed to stay around for questioning until given permission to leave, but instead, it was like they had completely forgotten we existed.
"Now what? Are we supposed to hang out or…"
My dad caught the eye of the officer with the clipboard, nodded, then turned and smiled at me. "We’re good to go. Bob will give us a ride."
I turned to see who he was pointing at. A man in uniform waved us over to another unmarked car, parked slightly away from all the others.
"Bob?"
My dad winked. "Officer Jones to you. He's going to drop us off now. They will want to question you later, but since you were with Detective Avery and myself, they’ll let us go home until after they inspect the scene."
I frowned, shaking my head. "That doesn't sound like standard operating procedure. Or have I been watching too much TV?"
This time, my dad laughed. "No, you're right. They're going to bend the rules a little, since you were on scene with a Detective and a special agent. They’ll have another officer take an official statement from you later, but I think getting out of here is in your best interest as well as ours."
"If you're sure. I'm not going to object other than to say it feels wrong."
My dad shrugged and threw an arm around my shoulder. Together, we headed to the car waiting for us. It had been the strangest six hours of my life, but I had a feeling it wouldn't have that honor for much longer.
As we silently drove home through familiar streets, I couldn't keep my eyes from landing on my dad. I had so many questions I wasn't even sure where to begin.
Chapter 13
By the time Constable Bob dropped us off, exhaustion had caught up to me. As the adrenaline wore off, it was all I could do to keep my eyes open. My dad waved at the officer as we stumbled into the house.
I looked at the clock on the wall, vaguely surprised to see it was only nine in the morning. It felt like a whole week had gone by between the time I’d had my dream and we had found Paul; even though logically I knew everything had taken place fast. The entire time between entering the storage area and finding Paul had been only a few minutes.
Luckily for Paul.
It was hard to process how such a short period of time could have changed everything for me. Not only had I been faced with the threat of losing my best friend, I discovered my "knack" for finding things couldn’t be attributed to sheer luck or a keen eye.
I was something called a finder, which I still didn't understand.
It was one of the many questions I needed to ask my dad, when we actually sat down to talk. I opened my mouth to speak, but my dad shook his head.
"Not now. Why don't you go lay down? Catch up on sleep and I'll wake you up at lunch. We’ll talk before Rob comes over tonight."
I started to object, but I was close to passing out from fatigue so instead I nodded, gave him a wave, and lurched toward my bedroom, collapsing with gratitude into my waiting bed.
The next thing I knew, the sound of gentle knocking pierced the cocoon of sleep, which had kept me safe. I had been dreaming, a strange dream with a purple slurpy. Paul was laughing as I turned purple and his chair had been rocking on the floor from his shoulders shaking so hard.
The rocking got louder and louder, then I heard him speak in my mom’s voice.
"Mark? Are you alive in there?"
I struggled to open my eyes, sitting up in bed just as she opened the door a crack.
"Mom? Oh, hey, sorry. Had, um, a late night last night, after all."
She looked down at me, raising an eyebrow. "A late night, hmm? That's not what your dad said."
I bolted upright, my mouth frantically opening and closing as I tried to figure out how to respond, but she laughed, waving one hand dismissively.
"Never mind creating a story for me, just focus on getting ready. Your dad's waiting on the patio. Something about beer and steaks?"
Her eyebrow was still raised, and I ran my hand through my hair as I tried to smooth it down. My brain felt like cotton and my mouth wasn't much better.
"Yeah, okay. Thanks, Mom."
The sound of her laughter trailed after me as I grabbed my clothes and headed to the bathroom. I had started taking my things with me when my brother began getting irritating and either locking me out of my room, or wanting to sit and chat while I got dressed. It was easier than fighting with him but come to think of it, he hadn't been bugging me like that recently. Maybe now that he was twelve and feeling more mature himself, he’d leave me alone.
Maybe. But old habits die hard and I felt safer with my clothing in my hand.
The shower refreshed me. I let it wash away as much of the night as I could before throwing on shorts and T-shirt and padding barefoot out to the patio. The French doors were already open, so I only had to slide the screen. The scent of barbecue sauce and meat caught my attention before I had even stepped outside.
I frowned. "I thought you said we’d talk and have steaks for supper?"
My dad turned from where he'd been flipping a steak and smiled. "Hey, Mark. Feel better?"
I nodded, still confused. When I glanced at the sky, I was startled to see the sun was past the trees. Without a clock, I estimated it was already past four. “I guess so. Di
dn’t realize I’d slept so long.”
"You were exhausted. I checked on you at lunch like I said I would, but when I found you snoring soundly—" I narrowed my eyes as he smirked. "Yeah, you were snoring. Loud enough I could hear you outside your bedroom with the door closed. Since you don't normally snore, I decided to let you sleep longer. Rob will be here by five. He's tying up a few loose ends at the station and will be on his way shortly. I figured you probably wanted to chat before then, although I’m sure Rob already knows the answers to anything you’d like to ask me. No secrets there.”
"Mark? James? Robbie and I are going to the movies. Try not to drink too much."
Dad handed me the spatula and turned to mom, sweeping her into his arms for a juicy kiss that made me grimace, but my reaction was mostly for show.
I loved the way my parents were still affectionate after being married for over two decades. It had grossed me out a lot when I was younger but now I could appreciate how rare their relationship was. Paul's parents never showed affection in public, and few of my other friends even had parents who were still together.
I waited until after they'd said goodbye, gave my mom a hug, and handed the flipper back to my dad. He dithered with the steaks until the sound of the car door slamming and the car driving away drifted over, then smiled and pointed to the small cooler next to one of the mesh patio chairs.
He winked. "Grab whichever one you’d like and have a chair. I'm sure you have a lot of questions."
I shuffled over, careful not to get splinters in my feet and did as he asked, settling on a blonde craft beer before sitting in the chair across from the one my dad had claimed with his beer in the cup holder.
I made a show of opening the bottle as I thought about what to ask him first. How did I ask my dad if my entire life was a lie in a way that didn't sound accusatory? I took a sip, placed my bottle in the holder and looked at him, really looked at him, this time as an equal instead of as my dad.
Kingdom of Villains and Vengeance Page 15
