[Whispering Woods 01.0] The Waiting Booth

by Brinda Berry

  “So, what are we gonna do about the dude in the picture?” Austin asked. “You can’t turn it into the police or your dad will know.” He seemed to be trying to be helpful. Or at least the words indicated that to me.

  “Austin, the guy in the picture was a fluke. I’m sure we’ll never see him and the other person again. I’m not going to worry about it. Did you know that Dr. Bleeker said this project could win at the science fair if I do it right?”

  Austin came over to me, his flip-flops raising dust with each step he took. Biscuit barked sharply and stood up on the old cart seat. I shushed him, but he stood with his ears perked at attention. Eying the dog, Austin slowly sat on the waiting booth bench to my left. The wooden bench was short, and we took up the entire space.

  He swept his bangs to one side and peered at me through the strands of dark hair that lay over one eye. “Did you ask your dad to change his mind about GameCon?”

  I hesitated to answer, because I knew Austin was going to be unhappy about my lack of initiative. “Not yet.”

  Austin nodded. “I think you should try again since he’s had time to think about it. You never get in any trouble, and he knows you’re safe with me and Em. He overreacts sometimes because of Pete disappearing, but you’re not Pete.” He slouched over and rested his elbows on his jean-clad knees. Frowning, he said, “What’s up with Biscuit? He seems like he’s about to jump me. He’s acting like a psycho dog.”

  He leaned back and crossed one ankle over his knee as he draped his arm over the back of the bench. My dog growled.

  “Biscuit!” I guessed something was bothering him today, too. Or maybe he could sense my agitation and that Austin was getting pushy. Austin and I would always be friends, but lately I had the definite and undesired feeling that he was seeing us as more than friends. “I think maybe he’s tired since he has been running around. You know during the week he literally sleeps all day. I hooked up one camera in the house to make sure that I knew how to use it. Biscuit slept about eight hours while I was at school. Oh, and he spent fifteen minutes at the window barking.”

  I stood and stretched. Biscuit started to growl again. He jumped off the cart seat and bounded to a spot directly across from us. His carrot tail stuck straight up as he furiously ran circles in an area the size of an ice chest. I looked to see what he had discovered, but there was nothing there. Austin slung his arm out to stop me from moving.

  “Maybe he’s found a snake. I’ll do it.”

  I rolled my eyes and went to pick up my dog. If there was a snake, I would be rescuing my dog myself and not waiting for some guy to come to my aid. I marched forward before Austin could to get Biscuit. The air suddenly came alive with buzzing and movement. My nostrils were filled with the fresh smell of a lake in the early morning hours. I managed to grab Biscuit, who was running around me. I could vaguely hear Austin’s voice in the background. He led me back to the bench holding the squirming dog in one arm while using the other to help me.

  “You OK?” He looked really worried.

  “I’m fine,” I answered, exasperated with his smothering. “Listen, thanks for everything, but I need to head to the house. You’re the one who’s overreacting.”

  Austin wouldn’t look me in the eye. I could tell I had hurt his feelings. Since when had he gotten so sensitive? Or maybe he was acting fine today, and I was the moody one. I felt remorseful that I had been sharp with Austin. He and Emily had been there for me when Pete had disappeared.

  A year ago, the police had labeled my older brother Pete as a runaway. My dad and I didn’t believe that for one minute, but the event helped me see my true friends…things had gotten crazy. I had relied upon them for my sanity in the past year and would never forget the safety of their friendship. I was sure that without them, life would have been really bad.

  “I’ll be online later tonight. How about I log on to play Quest of Zion around seven and look for you?”

  He smiled then. “Yeah, I’ll probably be on,” he answered. “I’ll text Em and tell her what time.”

  I slid into the golf cart, still carrying Biscuit. I turned the key in the starter when Austin added, “Don’t forget to ask your dad again about going to Dallas for GameCon weekend. I know you can turn on that charm and get him to change his mind.”

  I nodded and started the cart.

  Austin swung one leg over the seat of his four-wheeler. “Later… Peace out.” He grinned and noisily started the ATV before giving it more gas than necessary and speeding off. He’d take only a few minutes to get home at the speed he was going. He loved to go fast, although he knew that I got nervous when he drove too fast.

  I drove up the gravel drive with Biscuit perched in my lap, staying under ten miles per hour. I couldn’t go fast in the cart on the gravel road, but it sure beat walking. The gravel drive was a nice path to the house, but the ride was long and uphill. I immediately felt more relaxed as I drove away from the waiting booth. I had let the last half hour rattle me.

  The sunlight made patterns through the trees overhead, dappling the road in a mosaic of light and dark. Sweetgum, red maple, and dogwood trees lined the drive as if my dad had planted each one in a strategic outlay of color and breadth. Of course, he hadn’t planted any of the trees as Mother Nature was the gardener in our woods. The leaves were still various shades of green since the summer warmth still lingered in the September air. Soon, the weather would perform its magic, and the chrysalis effect of reds and oranges would emerge. I was comforted to see colors I knew were real and not a figment of my imagination.

  Home, I turned off the golf cart’s engine and coasted into the garage beside my dad’s car. The small area was crowded with boxes marked Xerox Paper stacked in a perilously haphazard fashion. The boxes held the belongings that my mother had left behind. Evidently, she didn’t want to be reminded of the average life she had in Whispering Woods—you know, the three bedroom home nicely equipped with husband and two children. Or in our case, make that two children and a dog.

  For years I had thought of those boxes as a symbol of her disregard of us and a need for a clean, neat getaway. I had wanted to throw everything out, but I finally understood why mom’s things remained after Pete had disappeared. My aunt Candy had suggested that we clean out Pete’s room. Donate things to Goodwill. I refused to see anything changed in his room. That’s when I understood.

  After dinner, I walked up the stairs of the only home I had ever known. I didn’t plan on leaving Whispering Woods to attend college. We had a great university right here.

  I shook my head in bewilderment as I took each step, thinking about my dad’s continuous lectures. He wanted me to attend colleges like Brown and Columbia. I had toured these schools and applied, but I secretly crossed my fingers that they’d lose my application. I belonged right here.

  I looked down at the wood planks of the stairs, which had dulled under foot traffic. At the top of the staircase, I quickened my step and entered my sanctuary. My room was at odds with the woodsy decor in the rest of the house. My dad didn’t care what I hung on the walls or how messy my room might be. I had hand-me-down posters of video game heroes that Pete had given me on every wall.

  I turned on selected lamps, since I preferred dim lighting while I worked on my computer for hours every night. The sounds of cicadas wafted in through my open window. The room was shadowy, and the night sounds were pleasantly soothing. I was given a new laptop last Christmas, so I wasn’t tied to working at my desk. Nevertheless, my desk still housed my gaming computer that Austin had helped me to build.

  I sat in front of my desktop PC. The Quest of Zion site requested my login info and the menu appeared. I clicked on the “Pub” icon, which was the message board for players. No messages, so I proceeded to enter the game. A side panel displayed my guild of friends who were online and offline at the moment. Austin and Em were both already visible as online.

  A chat message popped into the bottom of the panel from Super Girl, alias Em, “Did you check
the pictures from your outdoor camera today?”

  “No,” I typed. “Why?”

  “Wanted to know if you got some gr8 pics with that guy again,” Em said.

  “Highly unlikely.”

  I grabbed the memory card from the waiting booth and inserted it. I started moving my avatar in Quest forward to select weapons as the photo software started in another window on the screen. My virtual warrior picked a sickle, to challenge my skills. What damage could I do with that? I wondered. I thought about Pete and wished he were here to tell me about it.

  I glanced at the photo software window and gasped. A clear view of my mystery subject was in the frame. I enlarged the photo full screen, ignoring the battle that had started on Quest. It wasn’t necessary to do any manipulation as Em had performed yesterday. The image was clear. The two guys were close to the camera and facing it.

  I recognized the one with dark hair from yesterday’s pictures. I thought about how black and white pictures tended to blur out the imperfections as I looked at his face. Wow. He didn’t look like an ax murderer. He was smiling, and I was mesmerized by his beautiful smile and white teeth. And dimples. I scolded myself for drooling over the picture. The other guy had blond hair and was as attractive. His hair was longer and made me think of surfer guys, although we didn’t have any in Whispering Woods.

  Oddly enough, I wasn’t scared that the guys were in my woods a second night. What were they doing out there?

  * * *

  Dad had packed his travel bag and left our house for his red-eye flight. He usually flew out late Sunday night when he had to be on-site for a project Monday morning so he could spend more time with me, though he declared that he liked to sleep during travel and found the timing better for that.

  Ten o’clock… I had a busy school week mapped on my scheduler. After checking that out, I performed the nightly routine of securing the house and arming the alarm. I was tempted to stay up for some online gaming, but decided to resist and hit the hay. I had snuggled underneath my favorite cotton quilt when Biscuit decided to be mischievous. Normally, he jumped into bed with me and stayed quiet all night. Now, he scratched at the downstairs door while I wished for a doggie door. I had suggested it once, and then dad had reminded me of the “presents” that Biscuit would be tempted to drag into the house. So, I still had to supervise Biscuit’s nighttime trips to take care of business.

  I grumpily trudged downstairs and opened the side door. Sniffing, Biscuit ran to the detached garage.

  “Biscuit!” He disappeared around the corner. I realized that I must have left the garage open when I had returned in the golf cart earlier in the morning. “Crap, and more crap!”

  Biscuit had started to bark and wasn’t stopping. With my luck, a raccoon had probably found the trash can in the garage. I cursed my responsibilities and my little dog. I loved him dearly, but he could be such a pain. I stuck my feet in some slippers and went outside.

  Biscuit suddenly stopped barking. I halted, feeling the silence like an iron weight. Every scary movie I’d ever seen came rushing into my head. This is where you’re supposed to run and call the police, not go off investigating on your own. It’s the part in the movie where you scream at the extremely stupid girl, it’s always a girl, in the movie that she shouldn’t go in there.

  I was indecisive, but my fear for Biscuit won out. I had to get my dog. Why was he quiet all of a sudden? I picked up the first thing I saw as I continued toward the garage. The rake was not a weapon, unless you wanted to sweep someone aside or stab them with a blunt wooden handle, but a garden tool was better than nothing.

  I rounded the corner and entered the dark garage. I flipped on the light. Nothing. Great. I was starting to sweat as I imagined how I was about to die.

  I called from the doorway, “Biscuit? Biscuit, come here. Now.”

  I felt more than heard movement in the shadows. Biscuit’s head popped out from between the stacks of boxes. He was eating something.

  “Yuck, Biscuit. What have you found?” Relieved that he was OK, I hoped he hadn’t found a dead mouse. Biscuit’s palate didn’t discriminate. I went to get him, then noticed that the moonlight shining through the window threw a shadow across the wall.

  The perfect outline of a person’s head.

  I froze, and my intake of breath was audible. I raised the rake. As I did, Biscuit ran forward. Two hands came from behind me around my midsection, pinning my arms to my sides.

  I started to scream and struggle as Biscuit proceeded to attack the leg of my captor. In my bedroom slippers, I attempted to kick him, but my soft, little shoes made ineffective, padded thumps against his shins.

  “She’s a fighter,” said the voice behind my head. “I think she’s going to be a better sparring partner than you.”

  I flung my head back trying to head butt my assailant. A pain shot through my head as I connected with his jaw. I thrilled at his string of curses and oaths.

  The shadow materialized. The deep voice came with a recognizable body. The instant I saw him, I felt stupid…why hadn’t I been more alarmed by the pictures?

  He narrowed his startling blue eyes and grimaced. “We weren’t ready to meet you yet.” The guy I had so stupidly examined as a curiosity earlier reached toward my face. I was sure he was going to hit me, but instead he set his wrist gently on my temple. I instantly felt a jolt like an electrical plug connecting with its socket. The rake fell from my grip and clattered onto the concrete floor.

  “Sorry, Mia,” he said evenly. I barely registered his deep voice.

  Biscuit continued his attack, snarling and biting while I saw the world close from full view to a pinhole surrounded by black. Then…nothing.

  * * *

  I squinted as I opened one eye and then the other. Someone had pulled the shades in the downstairs area, so I couldn’t tell the time. I looked down to see why I couldn’t move. Although I was in my dad’s recliner, my hands had been taped together with what appeared to be duct tape. My ankles were also bound together. They hadn’t bothered to tape my mouth, but maybe they had realized that we were out in the middle of nowhere. Who would I call for?

  Even though I felt fortunate to be alive, I knew that I was in big trouble. I scanned the den for my cell phone.

  “I took it.”

  I looked up to see blue eyes staring at me from a chair pulled in from the dining room. “Took what?” I answered, startled because I didn’t seen him at first.

  “The cellular phone, the computer, whatever you’re looking for…” he replied softly.

  “So, what do you want with me?” I squirmed, suddenly aware that I was alone with him in my house and wore my short pj set that necessitated a robe even in front of my dad.

  “I don’t want anything,” he answered enigmatically.

  “Then leave me alone. Leave now, and I’ll pretend I never saw you.”

  I was incensed at seeing Biscuit at his side. The guy had one hand stroking his little golden head. Biscuit looked content. My dog was such a traitor.

  “You need money? My dad leaves some cash here for me. You can have it.” I waited to see if Blue Eyes would take the bait. “But my dad will be back at any time, and you’ll miss your chance.” And for good measure I added, “He carries a gun.”

  “No, he doesn’t, and I don’t think he’ll be back any time soon.”

  “He’ll be back sometime today,” I stated with assurance.

  A male voice came from around the corner. This guy must be the other one from the picture. The one who had grabbed me from behind in the garage.

  “Good morning, our little fighter.” He walked into the room. He smiled and sat down on my sofa.

  Em was right when she had remarked about their looks. They were both exceptionally good-looking. Does that make it any nicer to be attacked and tied up? Nope. It proved that you can’t judge a book by its cover. They didn’t look like drug dealers or gangsters. They both looked like the kind of guy you wished would ask you out and never did
.

  The guy on the sofa was holding my laptop and looking at the screen. He began to read. “Mia, I got here and will talk to you tomorrow. It’s going to be a long week, so if you need something, just e-mail. Remember that Mrs. Anderson is always there if there is an emergency. I may not call you if we work late nights. Love, Dad.”

  “Oh, by the way, I’m Arizona. Your head butt gave me a bloody lip last night.” He stated it without any malice and placed the laptop on the sofa. “And you are Mia.”

  OK, how bright is the intruder when he gives you his name? Or maybe he plans on killing me, so it won’t matter.

  “Regulus thinks I was wrong to grab you last night, but I am a little impulsive sometimes.” The guy with the blond hair was still smiling.

  “Listen, I told your partner, Rejules—”

  “Regulus…like Regulator,” the blond said.

  “OK, I told him that you could have the cash in the house and whatever, and I won’t call the police. I want to live. I’m smart. You won’t have any reason to hurt me.”

  “She certainly stays calm in a crisis,” Arizona told his partner. “You’re a real negotiator,” he said to me. As if I needed a compliment. “We don’t need your cash.”

  “I’m not sure what we’re going to do with you,” Regulus said from the corner of the room.

  That comment scared me more than the other one’s chitchat. I started to look around frantically for something to use as a weapon. Could I even defend myself with the duct tape restricting my movement? All I could see to get my hands on in the living room was a pile of remote controls and a heavy lamp. Perfect. And here I’d thought the rake had been pretty useless.

  Regulus seemed to sense my increasing distress. “No one is getting killed today. No one is going to physically harm you.”

  “Is this some type of kidnapping head game?”

  “I’d love to play some games with you,” answered Arizona.