by Amber Garr
Gauging my strength, I decided to go for it. One step left and together. Again and together. Just one or two more…
I heard a shout in the background but it became muffled by the air whizzing past my ears. The last thing I remembered seeing was the painting on the far living room wall getting closer before I hit with a crunch and blacked out.
Twenty One
My body bounced around in the back seat of a car when I woke up for the first time. I could feel my wrist throbbing and the headache told me I had a nasty bump on my skull. A set a metal handcuffs locked around my wrists but fortunately that was the only part of me restrained.
I opened my eyes slowly to digest what happened. I’d been kidnapped by sorcerers and their behavior led me to believe I knew which group they belonged to. Leanna must have warned them. She probably knew we would be speaking to Miranda, and when Terez suggested that they leave, she had the excuse she needed. How stupid had we been? What I didn’t understand though, is why they chose me.
The car shifted through traffic and it seemed like we hit every light. Since we were still on the city streets, I must not have been knocked out for too long. I hoped Garrick had already been to my house and noticed that I’d been abducted. He’d have the whole police force looking for me within the hour. Not wanting to be a victim, I decided to help them find me.
The car jerked to a stop. There weren’t many lights around other than the ones coming from the streetlamps. I gathered my courage, sucked in a silent breath, and grabbed the door handle. Luckily, my kidnappers didn’t think about child locking the back doors and I opened it and wiggled halfway out the passenger side before the brothers could react.
I suppose if I would have thought about my escape more thoroughly, things would have gone better. First, I should have jumped out as we started moving to give me more time. Second, of all the streets in the entire city, I chose to escape when not a single car was nearby to help. And third, well, third I would have realized that if I got caught there would be dire consequences.
The taller brother drove so it was Shorty who leaped out after me first. He wasn’t quite as agile as before, giving me the satisfaction of knowing I got in a good hit earlier. A couple of steps away from the car, I felt a huge boulder crash into my back. We hurdled to the ground, and remembering my injured wrist, I twisted at the last second to take the brunt of the impact with my left shoulder. Our heads knocked together as we hit and we both let out a groan.
Shorty was very mad at me. He flipped me on my back, straddled his legs to my sides, and sat on my stomach. I fought as hard as I could, but his heavy body smothered me and when his hand went over my mouth and nose, I couldn’t breathe. The look in his eyes encompassed pure malice. He had no intention of stopping. I really struggled when the panic set in. Ironically, not all of the anxiety belonged to me. I picked up on my assailant’s emotions- urgency, fear, satisfaction. He wanted to kill me before his brother could stop him. I saw a few flashes of him grinning while witnessing other torturous activities. He’d never been allowed to participate and now he had his chance.
It seemed as though time has stopped while I tried to prevent my impending death. Stars sparkled in my peripheral vision and the street lights faded. At some point, the other brother must have removed the heavy man because I rolled to my side, gasping for air. They argued and I heard a slap. The car door slammed shut but only one brother waited inside.
Once again, the tall one yanked me up by my neck and pushed me back to the car. I fought him the best I could, but my feet barely touched the ground and I still had tingling in my limbs. He opened the door and threw me in. I scrambled to the opposite side and tried to get upright again. The door handle looked so close, but as I reached for it he yelled at me.
“Don’t.”
And I froze once more. The brothers argued again, but this time it was in another language so I couldn’t understand. In only an instant, I realized they weren’t arguing but spell casting. I felt dizzy and nauseous as I lost consciousness for the second time tonight.
The musty and damp air smelled like an old basement. Scent became the first sense of mine to wake up and the only one that was going to work well. The room was completely dark. So black that I decided not to sit up or move too much for fear of running into something. I took inventory on my injuries again, noticing that neither my hands nor feet were bound. My wrist hurt, my shoulder felt badly bruised, and my stomach ached from the punch I’d received in my condo. But I was alive. And if I was alive, then I could find a way to get out of here.
The room felt heavy with cold and quiet. I tried to listen for voices or footsteps outside and then I wondered if there even was an outside. Maybe I’d been placed in a hole or an underground shelter. The thought of being trapped underground set my heart into spasms. I couldn’t sit here, I had to do something.
The floor consisted of compact dirt and pieces of flat stone. On my hands and knees, I slowly began to crawl forward using my left hand to feel for obstacles ahead of or above me. In only a few feet, I found one of the walls. It was made of small bricks that must have been cracked and worn down. The mortar broke off in small pieces and the wall itself damp enough to wet my hand. I may have touched moss or mold, but suspected it was some type of primordial slime instead.
Making my way to the right, I followed the wall for another ten paces before reaching the corner. When I approached a third corner, I realized that I hadn’t found a door yet. Using the wall and my hands to guide me, I made my way to standing. The room had a ceiling but since I could touch it, I knew it hung low. Sliding one foot forward at a time, and walking my hands along the ceiling, I began to search for the trap door.
Usually my eyes would adjust to the darkness when a small hint of light existed. But this was not one of those times, so I closed them instead. My exploration led me to another wall and I lowered myself back to the floor. Not wanting to backtrack, I started moving to my left in the hopes of finding the fourth wall and a possible escape route.
I’d only moved a few feet before I placed my hand down onto something soft and squishy and slightly hairy. I shrieked like a little girl before I could stop myself. A scuffling sound erupted on the ground right in front of me, followed by a moan. It sounded too loud to belong to an animal so I listened again.
There, faint but steady, was the cadence of deep breathing. How had I not heard this earlier? It didn’t matter now so I moved myself closer to the body. Placing my hand on the leg again, I slowly tapped my way up until I could feel a hip, stomach, shoulder, and eventually a face. The short hair and furry legs led me to believe this was a man. When my fingers grazed his cheek, he woke up with a jerk and slapped my hand away.
“No. Stop!” He begged more than demanded.
“Shh. It’s all right. I’m not going to hurt you.” I blindly reached out to touch him again in assurance. My hand landed on his lower leg and I gave it a small squeeze.
The man cleared his throat and I heard him rub his hands over his face and head. A few moments passed before he spoke again.
“Who are you?” he asked with a weakened voice.
“Leila. Do you know where we are?”
His put his hand abruptly on top of mine, squeezing hard and pushing it further into his leg. “Leila Marx?” He chuckled to himself. “Well of course it’s you. How many other Leila’s would there be?”
“Huh?” I found it hard to speak coherently in this kind of situation.
“When did they get you?” the man continued.
“Get me? Who are you?”
“It’s Atticus and I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that Leanna is the ring leader of this whole debacle.”
Atticus had been kidnapped too. We should have warned him, like I wanted to. He hadn’t been a part of this and now he was in as much trouble as me. I sat back on the ground and nestled in close enough to keep physical contact.
Atticus repeated his question. “When did they get you?”
“Ton
ight. Or at least I think it was tonight. Have I been out long?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t hear them bring you in.” He sighed and I listened to him lean back against the wall. It reminded me of my mission.
“Where’s the door?”
“Somewhere near me, but don’t waste your energy. It’s locked. Magically. We wouldn’t even be able to feel it.”
“Witches can do that?” I had no idea that magic existed in that capacity.
“No, but black magic can. I’m guessing that this little group has gained some nasty demon powers.” Anger consumed him; I could hear it in his voice. He’d been betrayed by his girlfriend and his fellow sorcerers. That thought sparked another question.
“What happened to Jake?” I asked.
Atticus snorted and I heard his head slump against the wall again. “Gone.”
“Gone? What do you mean?”
“I mean gone from this world. Dead. Buried. Gone.”
Oh no. The poor Montgomerys. In less than a few weeks time, they lost both of their children. I must have made a noise of surprise.
“He knew the consequences. Even if he hadn’t come to us yesterday--”
“You mean brought to us,” I interrupted. “He didn’t seem to be there on his own free will.”
“True. But he did come to you willingly. This group will simply not tolerate that kind of insubordinate activity.” He made the statement sound so military-like and final. You either obey or die.
“They got us at the same time,” Atticus continued. “Right out of that damned parking lot.” I waited a beat before he went on. “I watched Leanna turn on Jake with a pain spell before they knocked me out. When I woke, they threw me in here, and continued on with Jake. He looked bad and I’m sure it didn’t get much better for him either.”
I wondered what a pain spell was, but figured now wasn’t the time to ask. Atticus interrupted my thoughts.
“Did Elise call the ghost?”
“Yeah. It was interesting.”
“What did she have to say?”
I filled him in, not caring about exposing the truth about Leanna anymore. I told him I hadn’t known they were a couple.
“Ha. Yeah. So much for that.” He moved again to change positions but did not break our contact. “What a witch. Three years, going on four and this is how it ends. I hope she burns.”
“Okay,” I said and thought about what to do next or at least about how to change the subject from Leanna. “I planned to meet a police officer before being abducted from my home.”
“Your home? Man, they are getting careless.”
I continued without acknowledging his remark. “My point is that he’ll be looking for me. He was expecting me to be there and I wasn’t. I’d spoken to him not long before the Brother’s Grim showed up at my door.”
“Who?”
“Never mind. It’s not important. What is important is that we hang on because the police will be here soon.”
Although I couldn’t see his face, I could hear the skepticism in his voice. “Leila, no one’s going to find us.”
“Yes they will. Don’t give up--” A brilliant light flooded the room a few feet in front of me.
Someone had opened the magical door.
The brightness blinded us and my eyes couldn’t adjust until a shadow blocked out some of the white. Without saying a word, our visitor bent down and grabbed Atticus by the arm. He dragged him into the opening with ease, despite the sorcerer’s struggles.
“Let go of him!” I yelled and reached out to grip Atticus’s ankles. I pulled with all the force I could, trying to keep him in our dungeon. For whatever reason, I felt like this was a safer place for both of us. My feet slid on the dirt and rock floor and as soon as I thought I had the upper hand, I got yanked forward so quickly my face hit the ground.
The Shadow had Atticus halfway out the door. I noticed that the sorcerer had stopped struggling and now had a fresh cut bleeding above his eye. The man had knocked him out and I now pulled dead weight.
That didn’t stop me from trying to save him. In one last desperate attempt, I jumped forward onto Atticus’s calves and wrapped my arms around them. Leaning to the side, I swung my legs around and planted them in front of me with my knees up and heels digging into the ground. I pushed back until my legs were straight, moving Atticus further into the room with me again.
I only had a second to enjoy my accomplishment before the Shadow dropped Atticus’s arm and marched toward me. He never said a word when his silhouetted foot kicked out and hit the underside of my chin. I flew back in pain and rolled to the ground, tasting blood in my mouth. The man pulled Atticus out the door with one last heave and then turned back to me. Standing there, in the backlight, he looked monstrous. It reminded me of Gallus.
“It’s not your time yet, psychic,” he declared. His deep voice resonated in the tiny room. The light started to disappear and I scrambled over to the door, trying to keep it opened.
“Where am I?” I screamed. “Let me out of here now!”
We struggled with the door. Or maybe I should say that I struggled with the door. He continued to shut it. I pushed my left knee and lower leg through the opening to block the final few inches. The man sighed and looked down at me.
“Back.”
“No!”
“Back. Now.”
I tried to squeeze more of my body into the opening. If I could just get a shoulder in… I heard a crack then felt a tremendous wave of pain. It was something in my knee and it didn’t feel good. Why I had decided to test my strength against a giant hyped up with demon magic was beyond my comprehension at the time.
The pain forced me to succumb and the moment I did, his calloused hand pushed me back into the room. The door closed with a click and I felt the energy flow. A magical lock, Atticus had said. I hobbled over to the area with the door and felt nothing but brick and mortar and slime.
“Ahhh!” I screamed and pounded my hands against the wall. Frustration dominated my emotions and I continued to kick and punch and scream until the adrenaline wore off and the pain set in. Tears rolled down my face but I wasn’t hysterical. At least not yet.
A few deep breaths steadied my composure and I sat down to reevaluate the situation. My face and neck hurt from the kick and I felt certain something had been damaged around my kneecap. The nausea in my stomach was due in part to Shorty’s sucker punch but could also attributed to pain of a broken body.
How was I going to get out of here?
Twenty Two
At some point, I fell asleep. I tried not to, for fear of everything going on, but my body won out. It was impossible to estimate the amount of time I’d been in my prison, but for the faint hunger pains I experienced in the background. My best guess is that I’d been locked in here for at least a day.
I tried to stretch my aching muscles, sore from both the fighting and the cold temperature on the floor. Everything hurt in greater magnitude today. Not only were the breaks impossible to ignore, but the parts of my body which had met the floor or wall with an impact were now bruised and battered.
While trying to disregard my physical pain I focused on my mental suffering. Would Garrick be able to find me? And would I still be alive when he did? A part of me felt angry that I might miss the chance to fall in love again. It had taken a long time for me to heal, and although not fixed yet, I think I was finally on my way there. Garrick had been able to break through. And I suppose I should credit Conner as well. Before I saw his demon side, we’d enjoyed our time together hanging out with friends. Both men treated me with kindness and respect and never once tried to push me into something I wasn’t emotionally ready for.
In thinking of Conner, a part of me hoped he would be the one to rescue me. Considering the crowd, he was much better equipped to take care of the type of supernaturals holding me captive than Garrick would be. In fact, he would be the perfect choice. Conner, Gallus, and King.
I spent the next hour fantasizing a
bout a demon-vampire-werewolf rescue squad and all of the scenarios that my creative mind could conjure. It entertained me and I’d been smiling to myself when the door finally opened.
“Come,” said the Shadow man with his cavernous voice and one syllable vernacular.
Do I listen to him? I weighed the pros and cons of fighting again and decided I should save my strength for what was to come. Using the floor and the wall, I pushed myself to my feet and shuffled toward the door. When I got to the opening, I had to stop and let my eyes adapt. Apparently, Mr. Shadow didn’t like my stalling and he proceeded to pull me into the hallway, oblivious of my injuries. Or maybe apathetic would be a better description.
I braced my good hand against the far wall and looked around. We were in a long narrow hallway and my cell appeared to be the last in a row of them. From the outside, the magical door was clearly visible. If I hadn’t been so fearful, I would have found that amazing.
More brick and chipped mortar created the walls, but the hall floor consisted of clean stone tile and not compact dirt. Individual hanging lights were strategically placed along the high ceiling outside of each prison door. For some reason I took notice that my captors used environmentally friendly light bulbs.
A push from behind gestured me to start moving. If looks could kill, Mr. Shadow would have disintegrated. It was really the only weapon I had right now. I used the wall as a crutch and hobbled down the hall. My left knee swelled to twice its size and it gave out if I put too much weight on it. Shuffling past other prison cells in a dreary underground place made me think this is what it would be like to walk to a death sentence. I needed to change my attitude, pronto.
