"Never mind. Let's just say, you're unique in a number of ways."
I didn't know how to respond, so I said nothing.
Finally, he said, “Have you ever heard the phrase, To thine own self be true?"
"Is it from the Bible?"
"William Shakespeare. Food for thought."
"For me or Faye?"
He sighed heavily before he answered. “Faye, of course. You, Alfrieda Carlotta Emerson, are on the right path."
"What about Melia?"
"Melia's my problem,” he said, and slammed the phone down. I stared at the receiver, my brain whirling in confusion. Are you happy now, Allie? Did you get your questions answered? Do you know more about Melia? Do you know why Faye hates Grandpa Claude?
No, no, no and no!
* * * *
"I thought Beck was driving you home,” Mercedes said as I plopped down on the seat next to her. I'd almost missed the bus. Patti was pulling away from the curb when she spotted me in the rear-view mirror.
I slung my backpack to the floor and crossed my legs. Tight. Trying not to think about my bursting bladder.
"He was going to, but Mrs. Burke asked him to stay and correct papers. We talked for a while. When I looked at the clock, I had to hurry to catch the bus, which left me no time to go to the bathroom, and I'm about to pee my pants."
Mercedes shrieked with laughter. Cory Philpott, seated across the aisle, shot me an evil, interested look. Since our previous encounter on the bus, when I'd almost snatched him bald-headed, he'd left me alone. I glared at him until he turned and stared out the window.
I lowered my voice and spoke to Mercedes. “Beck's picking me up later. I need to pack my stuff ‘cause I'll be staying with Kizzy while Faye's gone."
"Oh, yeah,” Mercedes said. “I forgot."
Just then, Patti hit a huge bump. I squeezed my legs together and muttered. Mercedes giggled. When we finally reached our stop, I grabbed my backpack and sprinted to the front of the bus. I danced in place while the doors hissed open slowly.
Patti said, “Gotta go, huh?"
"Big time,” I said as I dashed down the steps. “See ya tomorrow."
Nature's insistent call must have driven everything else out of my mind, even my instinct for survival. Probably why I fell for the oldest scam in history. Normally, I have the house key in my hand before I get off the bus so I can unlock the door, step inside and toss my backpack on the couch. Today, I'd been so intent on not wetting my pants, I'd forgotten about the key.
I dumped my backpack on the ground and unzipped the pocket where I kept the key. Oh, crap! Not there. I was seriously thinking about squatting behind the barn when Benny pulled in the driveway in the black and white monstrosity Beck found so fascinating.
Before I could form another thought, he jumped out of the car and hustled over to me, a look of panic in his eyes.
"Thank God, you're here, kiddo. It's your mom. She's been hurt."
An icy hand closed around my heart and squeezed. My mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. When I was finally able to speak, my voice sounded like it was coming from a faraway place. I plucked at his sleeve with a shaking hand. “Where is she? Is she okay? Did the plane crash?"
Benny grabbed my arm and led me to the car. “No, the flight was delayed because of fog. She was driving back to Peacock Flats and got rear-ended. She's at Vista Valley Regional Hospital. I'll take you there."
He opened the door to the passenger side, tossed me onto the vinyl seat where I sat, dazed, while he turned the car around and headed for the road. Later, I would remember little things that didn't add up. The car had a strange smell, a smell I couldn't identify, and the panic in Benny's eyes vanished rapidly, replaced by his usual expression of indifference.
Even numb with fear, I knew I was screwed when Benny reached the end of the driveway and turned right. The car fishtailed violently on the icy road as he accelerated away from Vista Valley and the hospital. My heart jumped into my throat as I scrabbled for the door handle. “Stop! You're going the wrong way. What...?"
I heard a sound coming from the back seat. As I glanced behind me, a dark, looming presence reared up. A gloved hand reached out, clamped my hair in an iron grip and yanked my head back at a painful angle. With my upper body held fast against the seat back, I yelled and kicked out at Benny, hitting him solidly in thigh. He swore and whacked me across the face with a vicious backhand.
"For Christ's sake, get the stuff. What's your problem back there?” He snarled at his back seat accomplice.
The stuff? Fighting panic, I kicked, screamed and swung my fists wildly at my unknown assailant. As I gathered myself for another assault on Benny, an arm encircled my neck and squeezed. I was still able to breath, but almost immediately, starbursts began exploding behind my eyes, and my world turned fuzzy around the edges. I was desperately fighting to hang onto consciousness when I felt the jab of a needle in my arm and then ... it was lights out for Allie.
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Chapter Twenty-Four
Imagine waking up with your wrists and ankles bound with duct tape and Shane Boldt sneering down at you? Could anything be worse? Oh, yes. To all of the above, add soggy, cold, wet jeans. My first rational thought was, Oh no, I peed my pants! when it should have been, You stupid ass! Your life is in danger! Instead of being scared out of my mind, I felt like a little kid who'd wet her pants in Sunday school. Ashamed and embarrassed. The last person I wanted to witness this spectacle was Shane Boldt.
I was in a position Mrs. Burke would call untenable (lacking the sound reasoning or high ground that make defense possible). Too dizzy and disoriented to use TKP, the only weapon I had was my mouth, which I did not hesitate to use, even though I was curled up on a stinky carpet looking up at two Trimarks. Shane stood over me and Benny was a few feet away in a straight back chair pulled up to a wooden table. He had an open can of beer in one hand and a cell phone in the other.
"There are people looking for me right now. I can name three. Wanna know who?” I blustered.
Benny ignored me.
Shane said, “Yeah, right."
Trying to ignore my roiling stomach and pounding head, I repeated, “Yeah, right. Let's start with an FBI agent. Did you know I have one watching over me?"
Shane glanced over at Benny, who smiled and said, “Didn't do a very good job."
Okay, it's possible my mind wasn't working well. I tried another approach. “I'm supposed to be at my friend's house. If I don't show up, she'll call the sheriff. Shouldn't be too hard to find you guys, especially since you drive a creepy old car."
Benny shot up and set the beer and cell phone on the table. Two strides and he was on me, his hand clutching my pony tail. He jerked my face close to his. I bit my lip to keep from crying out. Geez, if I survived this, I'd be lucky to have a single hair left on my head.
"Listen, kid,” he hissed. “And listen well. I'm only going to say it once."
When he spoke, spittle flew from his mouth and ran down the side of my face. I recoiled and tried to look away from his unfeeling gray gaze.
He gave my hair another yank. “Look at me!"
This time, I couldn't hold back a whimper of pain. Reluctantly, I met his hate-filled eyes.
Benny said, “Nobody, I repeat, nobody, is looking for you. Your friend, Kizzy, got a call saying your mother's flight was delayed and you wouldn't be staying with her tonight. Your mother, by the way, is out of the picture. She's probably screwing her boyfriend as we speak."
In spite of his nasty comment, I heaved a sigh of relief. At least Faye was okay. Now, all I had to do was get myself out of this mess.
Benny gave my hair another little tug. “Oh yeah, the FBI agent. Whaddaya think, Shane. You scared of the bad old FBI guy?"
"Naw,” Shane said, but shot a worried look at Benny. “Ya think there's really an FBI guy?"
Benny released my hair and shoved me down on the carpet. “Of course not, you dumb shit!"
/> He returned to his chair and sucked down some beer. Shane slouched over to a ratty-looking couch covered by a dingy crocheted coverlet. When he plopped down, the couch gave an ominous shriek and engulfed his body like it was trying to eat him. He shifted uneasily, his knees up by his elbows.
"Can I turn on the TV?” he asked Benny.
Benny shrugged. “Be my guest."
Shane heaved himself out of the carnivorous couch and turned on an old, black-and-white TV setting on a metal stand. While he channel-surfed, I checked out my surroundings. We were in the living room of what looked to be an extremely old, extremely small house. The worn carpet smelled like cats had been using it for a litter box. I was in a position to know since my cheek was pressed against it. The high, narrow windows were covered with tightly-pulled, filthy shades. A single light bulb burned in the high ceiling. I rolled onto my back so I could see the other side of the room. I saw two closed doors. Closet? Bathroom? The air inside was frigid as if the house had been unoccupied for a long time. I shivered in my wet pants, grateful I was wearing my coat.
After a blast of static and muttered curses from Shane, he finally settled on a game show I knew came on at six p.m. Shocked, I realized I'd been out cold for a couple of hours. I wondered what they'd shot me up with and hoped I wouldn't barf. It was bad enough I'd wet my pants.
Shane returned to the couch. “How long do we have to stay here?"
He sounded pouty, like he had really important stuff to do. I was quite sure it wasn't homework.
Benny glanced at the cell phone. “Not much longer."
"When is she gonna call?” Shane whined.
"Shut up!” Benny snarled.
Hmmm. Benny didn't want me to know a she was involved. Why not? I wondered, scrolling through my mind for possible female Trimarks. When the cell phone chirped, Benny pounced on it.
"Yeah,” he said.
He listened for a while, without comment, glancing over at me from time to time. The look of anticipation in his eyes was unmistakable. I fought against the terror rising deep within me and considered my options. Most of the fuzziness in my mind had dissipated. Could I use TKP like I had against Baxter? I was outnumbered, two to one. Not good. But, lacking other options, it was worth a try. I looked around for possible weapons. Before I could settle on a plan, Benny clicked the phone off and gave me a cruel smile. He set the phone down and walked over to me.
"Don't even think about doing that thing with your mind."
I thought I saw a flicker of fear in his eyes and pushed harder. “You're a Trimark, probably a low-level one. I have way more power than you."
Benny spoke to Shane over his shoulder. “Get over here."
Shane climbed out of couch and joined Benny.
"Open the closet,” Benny ordered.
Shane walked to one of the closed doors and pulled it open, revealing its pitch black interior.
This wasn't going well.
"Hold on,” I yelled and tried to roll away.
Benny grabbed me around the waist, hoisted me in the air and tossed me into the closet. My head bounced off the wall. I landed on my left arm and shoulder, gasping with pain.
Benny looked down at me with a smirk. “Yeah, you're real powerful all right."
Shane joined him. They stood side by side, blocking my view of the living room. I was still breathless from battling the pain in my shoulder. When I was able to speak, I said, “What do you want?"
"The moonstone, of course. What else?"
Okay, Allie, focus. Imagine pouring gasoline on Benny and Shane. I shut my eyes to concentrate. I was getting ready to strike the match when Benny reached out and grabbed my face, his fingers digging in to my cheeks.
"Ow! Let go!” Funny thing about pain. It blocks everything else from your mind.
I tried to wrench away from Benny's vicious grasp, but he clung to my cheeks like a bulldog with a steak bone.
"Listen up, bitch,” Benny snarled. “Here's the deal. You have until eight o'clock tomorrow morning to tell us where the moonstone is. If you don't..."
He paused and looked over at Shane, who grinned down at me. “A whole lot of people will be dead, and it will be your fault. You and only you can keep that from happening."
Still clutched in his pincer-like fingers, I gasped, “If I give you the moonstone, you'll kill me. No reason to keep me alive once you have it."
His eyes flicked away, then back. “Not true. Once we have the moonstone, we'll let you go."
I knew he was lying, but said nothing. What could I say?
"One more thing,” Benny said. “You tell anybody about this, that person plus one more dies. You tell two people about it, four die. Get the picture?"
"Yeah,” I said. “I get it."
Finally, blessedly, he released my face.
"Have a good night, sweetheart. See you in the morning."
He stepped back and slammed the door, leaving me in utter darkness. Bitterly cold darkness.
I heard them leave the house and start the car. Filled with dread, I listened until the sound of the motor faded away, and all I could hear was the pounding of my heart. Then the panic I'd been fighting earlier rose up like a giant tidal wave and crashed over me. Plain and simple, I lost it. I fought against my restraints and screamed for help until my throat was raw. Finally, exhausted physically and emotionally, I lay, whimpering, on the closet floor.
Okay, Allie, that didn't work. How could it? Do you think Benny was dumb enough to park you in the middle of a crowded neighborhood? Think. Breathe.
I began to breathe deeply, counting as I sucked air in and out. Breathe in, one-two-three-four-five. Breathe out, one-two-three-four-five. My racing heart slowed to a steady thump-thump-thump and my wits returned. First order of business: get free. I shoved Benny's ultimatum about the moonstone to a little compartment in the back of my mind and labeled it Future Business. Don't think about it now, Allie. Just figure out how to get out of this deep freeze.
My arms were bound behind my body. My ankles were immobilized. I'd seen a woman on TV flexible enough to crouch down and pull her body through her bound arms. If I could get my hands in front of my body, I might be able to pull myself up, open the door and hop out the front door. There had to be a road leading to the house, but I hadn't heard a single car. Would I have to hop ten miles down a country road hoping for someone to drive by?
After a few painful attempts to contort my body and pull my butt through my arms, I crossed that one off my list. My only other option was TKP. Just last Friday, I'd caused a cheerleader's pompoms to float through the air. I still had the juice. But, could I do it, here in the dark, shut in a closet?
I took deep breaths and focused my mind. The darkness was complete, but I'd landed facing the door. No trace of light at all. Benny must have flicked off the overhead bulb before he left. If I could open the door, maybe I could somehow get to my feet. A glimmer of hope sprung to life somewhere in the vicinity of my heart.
I summoned my strength and tried to visualize the door. I traced its perimeter in my mind and began filling it in from top to bottom, then back up until I got to the doorknob.
"Open!” I whispered. “Open."
I heard a rusty squeak that had to be the doorknob turning
"Yes!” I shouted. “Do it, you sucker! Open!"
I heard a click as the doorknob released its latch.
Taking another deep breath, I concentrated on using my mind to push the door open. Hard. Harder! I tried to ignore the throbbing pain in my shoulder and rolled over until I was touching the door. I nudged it with my head and felt it move a few inches. Practically giddy with joy, I bumped it again, harder this time. This time, the door banged against an obstacle, bounced back and slammed shut again. My heart sank down to the top of my soggy socks. Benny had blocked the door with something heavy, damn him to hell!
Could I move it out of the way? I tried again and again until my head was pounding with pain and I felt bitter bile rise in my throat. I
did manage to get the door open again, but I couldn't budge whatever was blocking it. My strength was completely sapped.
With no hope for escape, I was forced to think about Benny's threat. If I didn't give him the moonstone, a firestorm of death and destruction would rain down upon innocent people, most likely my friends and family. Could I live with that on my conscience? On the other hand, if Trimarks had the moonstone, the result would be violence on a much larger scale. It was a decision nobody should have to make, especially a fifteen-year-old girl. Part of me prayed for morning. Another part wished morning would never come.
Cold, miserable and sick at heart, I pressed my forehead against the door I couldn't open and sobbed.
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Chapter Twenty-Five
Let me tell you, spending the night in a freezing cold closet is no walk in the park. I wouldn't recommend it, not even for building character. Whatever Shane shot into my arm gave me freaky, weird hallucinations and nightmares. I couldn't tell which, since I didn't know if I was awake or asleep. Strangely, at one point, I thought Nicole was with me. She looked kinda frazzled—unusual for fashion diva Nicole—but in my trance, or whatever, she said, “Oh, so this is where you are.” Swear to God.
When it's pitch black and you're in an altered state, time means nothing. I'd agonized a while about the impossible situation Benny had put me in, but then the head trip kicked in. Muddled is too mild a word to use for the way I felt.
The action started when I was deep in conversation with Marie Antoinette whose head, in case you don't know, was chopped off in 1793. She had her head tucked under one arm, which made it really hard to concentrate, because I wasn't sure where to look, and it seemed like she didn't know her head was supposed to be on her shoulders. And, oh yeah, her head was also speaking French.
Since I'm in first year French, I only picked up about every fifth word. I was about to ask her to slow down, sil vous plais, when I heard a tremendous racket outside the closet and a thin strip of light appeared beneath the closet door. A male voice yelled, “Allie! Allie! Where are you?"
I said, “Excusez-moi,” to Marie's head and called, “In the closet!"
Moon Rise Page 17
