by Jonas Saul
A familiar beeping started to come from his suit jacket by the front door. Caleb hopped up and jumped around the end table. She watched as he grabbed his jacket and pulled his cell phone from the inside pocket.
"I wonder who would text me at this hour?" he said.
He pulled his iPhone out of its case and clicked the button to open the text messages section.
Then he read it out loud; "Hi dad, it's Sarah. I thought I'd let you know that I'm staying at Mary's house tonight. Don't worry. Mom knows who she is. See you in the morning. Love Sarah."
"Who's Mary?" Caleb asked.
"We talked on the phone earlier today. She called before Sarah arrived home in a police car."
"What did she want?"
"She told me some interesting things. She said Sarah writes prophecies in her notebook. Then she goes out and saves people. Apparently Mary is someone Sarah saved from being kidnapped six months ago."
"We can't be this far out of the loop. Are you talking about our Sarah?"
Amelia nodded. "Come to think of it, Sarah said she was going to meet Mary, or something like that, when she ran out."
"This is unbelievable. Did you ask Sarah about what Mary said? Where's her notebook?"
"Sarah said she lost it. The phone rang when we were in her bedroom looking for it. It was the guy from the fair. Right after that, she left."
"Do you have Mary's phone number?"
"I think so. It should be on call display."
"I'm going to call her and straighten this out right now."
Chapter 15
Sarah woke up to darkness. She realized quite fast she was in the trunk of a car. A soft red glow eased through the darkness, showing her where the taillights were.
She tried to move her hands but couldn't. Pain heightened around the area of her wrists when she moved them. She also felt numbness. Her head pounded from the area where the hair was pulled out.
She tried to swish her feet back and forth, but her ankles were bound and numb too. When her head moved she felt the dried and crusty blood on the back of her neck.
Then she opened her mouth to scream. Her captor was stupid, she thought. He didn't gag her.
"Help!" She yelled. She could tell it wouldn't be heard too well outside the trunk of a moving car. She started to feel her lungs starving. Panting and gasping for air, she struggled harder and tried to scream again. Nothing much higher than a nasal screech came out.
Rapid breaths from her nose weren't enough to sate her lungs. She started to feel light headed.
What did I get myself into? The reality of the situation hit her like a head-on collision. She was tied up in a trunk. A victim of a kidnapper, or worse. And she'd just killed someone.
Deeper breathing was keeping her awake. She had to stay alert. The weight of the situation felt too heavy to carry.
The car hit a bump in the road. Her shoulder flared up in pain making her wince.
She wished she could pull. Find some hair in a sensitive spot and drag it out slowly. That would help to calm her down. She needed to get untied so she could pull.
The engine started to wind down. Either he was approaching a traffic light or he was stopping the car.
A bead of sweat rolled into her eye. She clenched her eyelid closed and shook her head. A mild headache flared.
It sounded like gravel crunching under the tires moments before it stopped. She struggled to hold her breath so she could listen to sounds from the outside.
The car door opened. She felt the weight adjust as the driver got out. Her heart beat a rhythm in her ear canal.
The trunk lid popped open. It remained an inch above the lock until fingers slid through the crack and lifted it.
She didn't know what to expect. Would he shoot her in the trunk?
What she didn't expect was the flashlight. The man standing there flicked one on, instantly blinding her.
"Never try to scream from the trunk again. There are many ways to die. You don't want the messy, painful ones."
Then a flash of lightning flared in her head when she felt something like a brick hit her. The pain was almost unbearable. Her whole face was on fire now. She couldn't help it. She screamed in retaliation of the pain.
The other side of her face had bumped the bottom of the trunk when the force of whatever hit her drove it down. She had never known such pain in all her eighteen years.
A coppery taste was in her mouth. The taste of blood. She opened her eyes. They still worked. Things would look different if an eye socket or cheek bone were broken.
"Rules. That's one thing my brother taught me. Follow the rules."
Rough hands grabbed her shirt and lifted her up a little. Her arms and legs screamed in protest. She couldn't suppress the moans that found their way out her throat.
His face was less than a foot from hers now.
"I've broken a few rules for you already today. You weren't the intended target. So I expect you to follow the rules I set. Rule number one; no screaming. The next time you scream for anybody, I'll teach you what screaming really is."
He shoved her backwards. Her head smacked the back of the open trunk lid right where he'd removed the clump of hair. She landed awkwardly on her arms, twisting her left elbow. By the time she could think to right herself, he'd shut the trunk lid.
In that moment, with the pain coursing through every nerve, an odd thought struck her; what was rule number two?
She could hear a cell phone ringing. Through the thin metal of the trunk she heard him answer it.
"Hello."
Then a pause. She waited, straining to hear more.
"Matt's dead...I know, but I got that girl from six months ago...I have no idea why she was there...this is so fucked up...what am I going to do without Matt. I've never done this alone."
She heard his voice decrease in volume. He was moving away from her.
"That's just it...where do you want me to dump her body?"
Then he was too far away.
She curled into a ball and wept.
The car door slammed shut moments later and they were moving again.
Sarah cried in the darkness until she fell asleep. The pain took forever to let up, the adrenaline eased its way out of her system.
She found the danger Esmerelda had warned her about.
Chapter 16
Denise Hall ordered a glass of brandy. She wanted her nerves rested for this meeting. She sat at the bar of an American version of a pub. This one reeked like the cook hadn't cleaned a thing in months.
She looked around at the half empty pub and thought about all the deals she had done in the past. This one was going to be her biggest sale to her richest and most notorious contact.
She lifted her sleeve back and read the time. The pub would be closing soon. She was thirty minutes early for the meeting. Good. You didn't want to be late for Mr. Ward. Everyone in the State knew that.
Her stomach moved around at the smell of greasy food. Something unidentifiable was burning on the stove in the back. She took a deep swig of her drink.
The front door opened and two large men dressed in suits and matching crew cuts, entered the pub. They looked around until both pairs of eyes stopped on Denise. Then they continued scanning the small restaurant.
A waitress approached them only to be waved off.
Denise took another long sip and watched the men who had taken a position on either side of the door. It looked rather odd; two sentries guarding the inside of a restaurant.
She smirked at the thought of how nervous she was. She had dealt with Mr. Ward on a number of other arrangements in the past. She knew she was safe. Why would this sale be any different? She also understood the routine. If she wanted to sell to him she had to play along.
She didn't have to like it, just play along.
He was the kind of man who pitied the mob and they knew it.
Or maybe she was being too kind, she thought. He was short, no more than five feet tall, with a large net
worth. The kind that required better security than the President.
Sometimes Denise wondered about the ethics of what she was doing. And sometimes she wondered about people in India. Who cared about everyone else? Look out for number one and in the end you die. Nothing else to worry about. Maybe that was why she didn't talk to her mother anymore.
She took another drink from her glass as one of the men at the door responded to a cell phone. He put it away and nodded to the other. They broke from sentry duty and walked to Denise's table.
"Come with us," the taller one grunted.
It was always the same.
"Let me finish my drink."
"Now. Stand."
Again, just like before. She wouldn't let them take her dignity. It was only a business transaction. She put the glass to her lips.
One of the men reached under her arm, half lifting her to her feet. She was hustled to the door and taken outside to the cool early July morning, her drink in hand.
Mr. Ward's car was not there. No surprise. The trio turned right and then into an alleyway. Another larger man stood in front of a back door of what looked like a Chinese restaurant. They hustled her in and down a dark set of stairs. So Hollywood, she thought.
They entered a dank basement. Single bulbs hung with strings attached. Either the walls were painted black and were decaying after years of moisture or they were covered in mold. It was too dim to see for sure.
Mr. Ward sat behind a table near the far wall. He was alone, watching her approach. If she hadn't dealt with him before, this would be quite intimidating. Even so, she felt fear creep along her nerve endings.
"Sit," he said, gesturing with his hand to the wooden grade school chair in front of the table.
The apes on each side of her fell away and she once again had full use of her feet. She set the brandy glass on the table.
"Do you have the package?" Mr. Ward asked.
He was one of those men who always talked with a smile. Like he was the only one who knew the inside joke.
"I got confirmation earlier. That's why I called to meet you."
He stared at her through sunglasses so dark she couldn't see his eyes.
Denise thought the tough guy thing was an act. He had to keep his employees remembering who the boss was.
"How am I to expect delivery?"
"I'm having a discrete location renovated to keep your package safe. The renovations will be done today and the package will be arriving there tomorrow. I'll call then and set up the arrangements."
"The money will be wired to an account of your choice. When you call with the package location, tell my men where you want the money. Once I confirm possession of the package, the money will transfer, as usual."
Denise nodded. Same routine. She knew this meeting was a formality. She stood up to go. Anything to get off the hard wooden school chair.
"May I go now?" she asked.
Mr. Ward nodded.
She turned and started to walk, this time unaided by the gorillas that helped her to the meeting. When she reached the stairs, she looked back at Mr. Ward. He hadn't moved an inch.
"I wanted to say that this package is different. It's caused me a lot of trouble. This one is a real piece of work. I hope you're going to be happy."
"I'll worry about my emotions," Mr. Ward said with his trademark smile.
Denise headed up the stairs, trailing the smell of chicken fried rice, her stomach in knots.
Chapter 17
The sound and rhythm of the car had a soothing quality. Every breath she took, every second that went by was another second she was alive.
She knew the driver recognized her from Mary's kidnapping. She also suspected that was the reason she wasn't dead yet. He would want to find out why she had shown up twice. He would probably try to extract this information through violence, she thought. I don't want to think about things like that though. I'll deal with whatever comes as it happens.
The engine slowed. She could feel the brakes being applied. The car turned onto a gravel road as her bladder was about to burst. Rocks careened off the wheel well by her head. The car turned again and came to a stop. Then silence.
She had no idea where they were. He could very well open the trunk, pull her out, shoot her in the face and throw her body behind a tree. She squeezed her eyes shut. Can't keep thinking like that, she chided herself.
The trunk lid sprung open. With caution, she opened her eyes. It was dark outside. She could see a solitary light as high as one found on any city street.
Rough hands gripped her under the shoulders. She was yanked from the trunk and dropped on the gravel. The sting was intense. Her arms and legs felt rubbery. She just wanted to lie there and rest with a morphine drip attached to her.
She saw the glint of a blade. Before she realized he had a knife, its arc came swift.
Her ankles fell apart. She twisted her head away as he came toward her face. She felt a slight tug and then her hands dropped apart.
The driver walked away. She followed his footsteps with her gaze. He got to the front of a cabin, fidgeted with the door and opened it. He flicked a light on inside the building and turned to face her from the porch.
"If you're thinking about running, there's no place to go. Scream if you like, no one will hear you. Although, I wouldn't because that would defy rule number one. We're miles away from civilization."
Sarah got a feeling he was enjoying himself. Something had changed. He was grinning.
"You should make yourself comfortable while you still can. There isn't much time for you left."
If he wanted to kill her he would have done it right away. He would have dumped the body and been done with it. Keeping a hostage requires a lot more work.
"I'll give you one minute to get in here," he said and then disappeared into the cabin.
She looked around and saw trees surrounding the area. She eyed the road. It turned away from her and was lost in darkness. Off in the distance she could hear what sounded like transport trucks on a highway.
She looked back at the cabin. He was watching her from a window to the right of the door.
She tried to get to her feet. They worked, but with protest. She stood with the support of the car. The effort caused pain to flare up in her face where he had hit her.
She knew she couldn't outrun him. He was watching her and she was sure his minute deadline was looming. No point in testing him so early.
She started for the cabin door. How could the precognition be so wrong? Why was she here?
She knew she was eighteen, but she felt small and needy.
After all the people she had saved, who was coming to save her?
Chapter 18
"I can't get an answer. No one's picking up the phone," Amelia said as she replaced the receiver. "It's been an hour since we got the text."
Caleb got up and grabbed his cell. He flipped open the cover and started pressing buttons.
"What're you doing?"
"Why didn't I think of it before? I don't know how I missed it. When we sent those replies to the phone where the text came from, asking them to call us, I forgot that it's another cell phone. Whoever sent us that message used a cell that I can call."
Caleb's thumb worked the tiny keys. "There, got it."
Caleb felt his wife watching him as he lifted the phone to his ear. They both waited. He looked at her and shook his head back and forth.
"Machine". He dropped the phone from his ear. "Dead end."
"Well, what do we do now?" Amelia asked. She rubbed her hands together as if she was putting lotion on them. "I can't sit around. Sarah isn't home and its past midnight." She stood up and grabbed the phone again. "I'm calling the police. I don't care what they're going to say."
Caleb didn't try to stop her.
The phone rang in her hand. She jumped and swung her head to look at Caleb. He motioned for her to answer it. She shook her head and handed the phone to him.
"Hello?"
&nb
sp; "My name is Jack Bennett. I'm sorry if I've disturbed you at such an hour. I'm calling every number on my daughter's phone to see if I can find her."
"You mean your daughter's missing?" Caleb asked.
"She's out past her curfew. Actually, she was home, but has snuck out of her bedroom. I'm calling around to see if anyone who knows her would tell me where she may be."
"What's your daughter's name?"
"Mary Bennett. Have you spoken to her? Do you have a daughter who would know where she is?"
Caleb talked with Jack for a few minutes. It was assumed that both girls were probably together. Something all teenagers did, and since the police told Mr. Bennett he couldn't file a missing persons report yet, they all decided to wait until the morning. It was agreed that if one of the daughters contacted any of them, they would phone each other.
Caleb said goodbye and hung up. He forgot to ask why Jack hadn't picked up the phone when they'd called his number over the last hour.
Caleb tried to talk Amelia into resting on the bed. She refused to go to sleep with her daughter still out. Instead she turned on the television and sat staring at it. Caleb figured she wasn't really tuning in to the retro game show blaring out how to win ten thousand dollars.
A half hour later he stepped into the living room to find her asleep sitting up, her head dangling to the side.
He'd been waiting for her to fall asleep. He had a phone call he wanted to make in private. A certain someone who would know where Sarah might be.
He made his way to the basement, and dialed the number he had in his cell memory.
Chapter 19
Esmerelda rolled off and knelt down beside her bed. She glared along the narrow hallway of her trailer.
She was sure she heard something; a knock or a bang of some kind.
Then it came again. A soft rapping on the trailer door. A man whispered her name. She looked over at the digital alarm clock.
It read 3:14am.
