by RH Fox
“How does that help? They have guns. We’ve got nothing but office supplies and brats,” Carrie scoffed, motioning to the group on the floor.
Dreia wasn’t ready to tell them about her pistol yet. She wracked her brain for anything else that might help.
“There’s usually a back door in buildings like this, for deliveries. Has anyone checked for one?”
“Duh. It’s padlocked. Maybe if we ask nicely they’ll give us the key,” Carrie answered sarcastically. Then, her body language changed. She dropped her hands from her hips and offered, “Come on, I’ll show it to you.”
Dreia was caught off guard by the sudden cooperation.
“Lead the way,” she backed up and motioned for the teen to go ahead. Carrie brushed past and headed out the door into the deeper shadows at the back of the office.
13
There were two closed doors set in the cinder block walls just past the cubicles. A strong odor indicated a bathroom sat on the right. The door on the left was probably a storage room. Dreia twisted the knob, but it was locked. Beyond them, a narrow hallway ran perpendicular to the wide isle dividing the office, spanning the length of the back wall. She could barely make out shelves filled with large binders and books mounted to the left.
Carrie halted and pointed to the right. “The door’s down there about half way. I didn’t have a flashlight, so I don’t know what else is back there.”
Dreia briefly considered trying to get the flashlight from her bag, but was afraid it would draw unwanted attention from their captors. She stepped around the teen and slowly shuffled forward with her arms outstretched. Virtually no light reached this far back once she turned the corner. The inky blackness was completely motionless from lack of air movement and felt suffocating. Dreia could only imagine how stifling things were going to get once the summer humidity arrived. Feeling along the building’s outer wall, her hands found the outline of a door. Sure enough, there was a large padlock holding a security latch above the doorknob, just as the teen had claimed.
“Sometimes they keep a key up above the door frame,” she whispered back to Carrie, as she reached up to run her fingers along the top. “Maybe the men didn’t check.”
“I didn’t think of that!” Carrie exclaimed a little too loudly, her voice moving closer. Dreia felt the girl smash into her side. “Oops! Sorry, I couldn’t see you. Is there a key?”
“Nothing there.”
Dreia rubbed her elbow. Carrie had bumped her hard enough to knock it against the door frame and make it tingle. A memory of Abbie rubbing her elbow when she was about four surfaced, her little voice obstinately asking why it was called a funny bone when it hurt so much. Dreia closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she saw Carrie’s outline back at the opening to the main hall again. Shaking off the vision she quickly felt around the remaining space. Her eyes adjusted enough that she could at least see where the walls were. She found a counter with a coffee pot and a small sink. Dreia gave the knob a twist, but no water came out. Turning around she headed back toward Carrie, and they reentered the small cubicle together.
Both mothers had stopped crying, and everyone looked up expectantly.
“Nothing.”
Everyone’s shoulders slumped in defeat. The woman who’d been trying to console the others stood and held her hand out to Dreia. Under the circumstances it was almost comical to be offered such a normal gesture.
“I’m Melissa. What do you think we should do?”
The new speaker was probably in her early thirties, with black hair cut into a trendy, asymmetrical bob. Physically fit and dressed in yoga pants with a light athletic hoodie, Dreia had watched her try to cross the bridge on an expensive bicycle. From what she could tell the bike hadn’t been packed with any supplies, meaning she was simply out for a ride. One of the millions who had no idea what was going on yet.
“Do any of you know what’s happening out there. Beyond this roadblock?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
No one said anything at first. Then, the mother with two children spoke hesitantly.
“I do. Kind of. My husband told me that the electricity isn’t coming back on. He said we had to leave town quickly before the city went crazy.”
“Wait a minute. When the men on the bridge took your car, it was only you and the kids. Where’s your husband?” Dreia looked confused.
“We had two cars that worked. My husband’s a mechanic and had several old cars in the shop out back of our house.”
“So he knew what was happening?”
“Not at first. Yesterday, after the lights didn’t come back on, one of our neighbors told us about EMPs in exchange for a working car. Tom insisted that we pack up as much as we could and leave early this morning for his parents’ house. They moved to West Virginia to be near his sister when his dad retired two years ago. His dad’s health is failing and he’s on oxygen, so Tom was real worried about getting to him before the batteries on his portable tank died.”
“Do you think we care about an old sick guy? Get to the point,” Carrie cut in with a bored tone.
“Hush,” Dreia ordered, earning herself a dirty look. She was immune to teenage death stares, however, and motioned for the woman to continue, “Go on, uh . . . sorry, what’s your name?”
“Tracy,” the woman offered, before she continued talking. “So, yesterday morning we had two cars loaded down and were ready to leave, but then Natalie,” the woman squeezed her daughter slightly, “started throwing up. I wanted to clean her up and try to settle her stomach before getting on the road.”
Tracy stopped and took some deep breaths.
“So, your husband left you and the kids behind, knowing what was going on?” Melissa asked a bit harshly. “And that’s why I’m still single. Men are unreliable assholes.”
Carrie barked a loud laugh and Tracy started sobbing.
“I convinced him we’d be right behind him in a few hours. I’m the one who told him he needed to go ahead, so he could reach his dad faster,” she finally managed to get out.
Dreia frowned at Melissa and Carrie but kept silent. The poor woman’s situation was the perfect example of what happens when people panic and rush to act before thinking about the longterm effects of their choices. Dreia couldn’t bring herself to ask what kind of car Tracy’s husband had been driving, not wanting to know if he was one of the men now resting at the bottom of the canal. Thankfully the subject was changed before Tracy remembered her comment about watching the canal all day.
“What about you? Where’s your husband?” Carrie asked Dreia.
“We both worked up in the city. As far as I know he’s on his way home like I am.”
“You act like you know what’s going on. What’s this EMP thing her neighbor was talking about?” Melissa asked.
“It’s an electromagnetic pulse that knocks out power grids. Indefinitely.”
Dreia settled on the floor across from the others and found herself repeating everything she’d gone over with the staff at school. By the time she finished all the women were overwhelmed by the information and even Carrie looked dismayed. The shadows in the office had grown considerably darker, and Dreia surmised it had to be close to dusk. It was also extremely warm inside the office, so she pulled a ponytail holder out of her pocket to get the hair off her neck.
Tracy was the first to speak again, “So, what should we do now?”
Everyone gazed at each other, then turned to Dreia simultaneously. Yet again, she was in charge by default. She looked at the small children sitting on their mother’s laps and at the sullen teen who’d settled in the office chair. Carrie might be mouthy, but no one deserved to be discarded by their parents and subjected to what she’d endured here. Dreia didn’t want to imagine what her childhood had been like for her to still be functioning after what happened to her.
When she finally spoke, her voice was resolute. “We have to come up with a plan tonight. There’s no telling where the women they moved this
morning were taken, or what kind of security they’ll have there. So, our best chance is to work with what we know here.” Feeling like she was out of other options, she decided to tell them she had a gun.
As she opened her mouth they heard voices outside, which got louder when the door was pushed open. Everyone turned fearfully to the cubicle opening. Someone was yelling at the man who was supposed to be watching them again. The women on the floor scooted as one toward the desk, but the office was so small they couldn't get past it.
Dreia forced herself to stay where she was. If only one man came in and moved toward the women, she might be able to pull the .38. Then, the others could disarm him, and they’d have a hostage to negotiate with. Not the best thought out plan, but she was at a loss for what else to try. Disappointment ran through her when the two men from the bridge filled the space.
“Hello again, ladies,” the one she assumed must be Wayne, the kiss-ass in charge, drawled with a huge smile. His rifle was slung over his shoulder like he didn’t think a few women and children posed a threat.
Z stood slightly behind him, lips permanently compressed in an angry line. He held his rifle threateningly with its strap anchored across his body. Dreia got the distinct feeling that Wayne enjoyed playing the part of nice guy while letting his probable right-hand man be the enforcer.
Dreia stood and backed up against the partition, keeping her hands to her sides even though they itched to grab her pistol. The other women stayed huddled together against the desk while Carrie remained in the chair with a defiant smirk on her face. Dreia willed her to keep her mouth shut.
Wayne moved into the office, “So many beautiful women to choose from. Why don’t you all stand up. Come on now, don’t be shy. One or two of you are going to be our guests at dinner tonight.”
Melissa and Carrie stood up, but the other three continued to cower. The mothers had managed to push their children behind them into the small space between the wall and desk.
“I said, stand up!” Wayne roared, revealing a crack in his charade.
The two mothers scrambled to their feet, but Melissa had to reach down and pull the mute woman to her feet. She was shaking so badly Dreia wasn’t sure how she stayed standing.
Wayne quickly regained his amiability and walked over to Melissa. He ran his finger down the side of her face. “Aren’t you a helpful one? How would you like a hot meal tonight?”
Melissa didn’t move as his hand continued down the front of her shirt. Dreia gave her credit for not flinching away. So did Wayne.
“The boys are going to like you.” He leaned in and whispered next to her ear, “You might even get to stick around for a few days.”
Melissa continued to stare straight ahead, giving no indication she heard. He laughed and turned to the shaking woman next to her. A wet stain was spreading across the front of her pants.
Wayne wrinkled his nose. “Z, I don’t think this one has what it takes for where they’re headed. Go put her out of her misery.”
Dreia watched as Z pulled the woman out of the room and pushed her toward the front of the office. The rest of the women stared at each other in horror when a single gunshot rang out.
Both mothers dropped to the floor, shielding their children. Dreia knew this might be her only chance, so she stepped away from the wall and reached for her pistol.
“Wayne! She has a gun!” Carrie yelled.
Dreia froze in confusion as Wayne rounded on her, rifle up.
“Is that a fact?” he asked, a predatory smile on his lips.
Dreia looked over at Carrie, now holding one of the speed loaders up for Wayne to see.
What the hell? She reached into her coat pocket. One of them was definitely gone.
Carrie kept talking, “I lifted it earlier when I pretended not to see her in the dark. I felt the gun, too. It’s hidden on her back.”
Wayne pushed the tip of his rifle into Dreia’s stomach, “Raise your hands slowly and put them on your head.”
The small circle of his rifle convinced Dreia to comply. When her hands were clasped above the short ponytail, he lifted the barrel toward the ceiling and moved closer to reach behind for the holster. Fixing her eyes on the vivid colors of his dragon tattoo, she fought to stay calm. Her mind was screaming that she was about to die and her family would never know what happened to her.
Please, God. Please let Matt make it home to the kids.
14
Instead of immediately pulling the pistol out, Wayne continued running his left hand lower and squeezed her bottom. Then, he shifted the rifle to his back and pinned her against the wall with his hips, lowering his nose to hers. Dreia sucked in a deep breath. The smell of leather, mixed with the musky odor of a man who’d been outside all day, filled her nose.
“Sneaky, sneaky,” he said, raising both hands to push his fingers up into her hair. He pulled the ponytail holder out and the short waves fell on either side of her face. She locked eyes with him, not moving.
“You look younger with your hair down,” he teased, wrapping one of her curls around his finger. “What’s your name, hellcat?”
Dreia stayed silent, not breaking eye contact. She could hear the women and children on the floor crying in the background. Wayne moved his hand to her chest, right over her heart.
“You may act brave, but this gives you away,” he tapped his finger quickly, keeping time with her racing heart.
She took deep, slow breaths and willed her pounding heart to slow down. He chuckled at the defiant look on her face when the wild fluttering started to even out.
“Nice, but I bet I can make it speed up again.” He moved the hand resting over her heart slowly downward, lingering a few seconds over her breast before continuing. When he reached the top of her pants his fingers walked the hem of her shirt up and slid into her waistband.
Dreia’s face flamed when her heartbeat increased again, betraying her control. Furious anger surged, and adrenaline was quick to follow. Tipping her head back she slammed it forward as hard as she could. When her forehead smashed into Wayne’s nose, she heard it crack and blood gushed everywhere. He yelled obscenities as he backed up, acutely focused on the blinding pain.
Dreia pulled her gun and stepped toward the desk where she could aim at Wayne without worrying about hitting anyone else. Carrie slammed into her right side just as her finger squeezed the trigger. The shot went over his shoulder and through the partition behind him. Wayne regained his senses and grabbed her wrist, bending it back and causing the gun to fall from her grasp. He roared in anger and body slammed her against the partition. Dreia felt it shudder violently, but somehow it held.
“You little bitch!” he screamed in her face. Spittle and blood speckled her cheek as she turned her head away from his rage.
Z appeared in the doorway, taking in what was happening but waiting for instructions.
Wayne wrapped his hand around Dreia’s throat, regaining his composure as he slowly increased pressure. She grabbed at his wrist, trying to pull it away, but her hands were ineffective against his rage.
“Find something I can wipe my face with,” he ordered Z, voice now calm and deadly.
The other man pointed his weapon at Melissa. “Take your shirt off and hand it to him.”
She complied wordlessly, revealing a hot pink sports bra underneath.
Wayne wiped his face as he increased the pressure on her neck. Dreia felt her airway shrinking.
“Don’t kill me, I have kids,” she managed to choke out, knowing it was a futile plea after everything she’d watched his men do.
Wayne continued squeezing, and smiled widely despite the blood still dripping from his nose.
“Please,” she rasped as her vision started going dark around the edges.
Right when she was on the verge of blacking out, Wayne took his hand off her throat and backhanded her hard enough that she slammed into the desk on her way down. Her head caught the corner, and she crumpled to the floor. Barely conscious, waves
of pain pulsed through her brain each time her heart pumped.
“Shit!” Dreia heard him speaking above her. She wasn’t pretending when her eye rolled back as he lifted her eyelid. His voice faded in and out. “I was looking forward to having some real fun with this one.”
“Looks like you’ll have to pick another one,” Z said tonelessly.
“Fine.” Wayne stood up and pointed at Melissa. “You, move. Carrie, grab that gun and come on.”
Dreia heard the glass door shut behind them and more yelling came from outside Then it was quiet again. She tried to roll over and groaned in pain. Struggling to sit up, she grabbed her head and felt blood trickling from a gash above her right eye.
“Here, back up against the wall.” Tracy gently helped.
“Thanks,” Dreia whispered, her throat on fire and head spinning. “I need some water.”
“I don’t have any, I’m sorry. They haven’t given us any all day.”
“There’s a few bottles in my backpack.”
“But, they’ll . . .” Tracy pulled back, afraid.
“They’re going to be busy for a while.” Dreia met her eyes meaningfully. “If you get it, you’ll have water for the kids, too.”
Tracy was torn, but finally nodded and quietly went to peek around the cubicle doorway.
“My bag’s by the door. Just hug the wall and no one will be able to see you.”
Tracy left the room, but returned a minute later empty handed. “There’s nothing in any of the chairs. They must have taken it.”
Dreia mentally swore because it hurt too much to produce sounds. She leaned her pounding head against the carpeted wall and closed her eyes, feeling woozy. Tracy scooted back to her kids. Both women tried not to think about what was happening to Melissa.
Instead, Dreia thought about Carrie, furious that she’d been taken in by the teenager’s lies. However, the anger faded to pity when she remembered the nasty bruises on the girl’s face. Carrie may think she’s not a hostage herself, but the bruising told a different story.
