Without knowing what I’m meant to be preventing, I stare again at the three men. They’re all well-built with determination and calmness shining through their postures. All eyes are trained on this door and I haven’t seen any of them move an inch yet. Have they even blinked?
As if on cue, I watch one of them jerk their arm up, he holds his finger in the air and then against his ear, touching what I assume is a communication device. I can tell his attention changes with whatever he is being told. He turns to the two other men and nods at them, signaling something with his hands. They both nod and silently move to the door, placing themselves at either side of the entrance. The one who has told them to move stays crouched down opposite the door at the same time that another wave of fear hits me.
Who am I about to see exit through this door? Whoever it’ll be, they’re about to enter an ambush. My nerves pick up and I wonder again if this is real. It feels real, it feels as if it’s one of my future dreams, but why am I seeing this? Are my dreams changing? How far into the future is this?
I shuffle my feet in fear, fighting the urge to run away, or at least hide. Right now I’m out in the open, however I’m also apparently invisible. No one is paying me any attention and I can’t get hurt in a dream. I have to ride it out and see what knowledge I can get from this. I know deep down that whatever I’m about to see is important.
The door bursts open without warning and I jump in shock. My heart drops and possibly stops beating altogether when I see Will’s panicked face. I step towards him, but both men jump on him from behind and I swallow my fear as I rush to help him. My hands find no friction, they just move through the bodies. I don’t exist here.
I watch one hit him across the face, hard. I wince for him, knowing how much that must hurt. His head is then smashed against the brick wall and I cry out his name, wanting to help him yet feeling useless. Will tries to fight them off and the third man walks closer, holding a menacing looking steel pole. He strikes Will hard in the stomach and he kneels over in pain.
I shout at them to leave him alone and I try to move them with my body, but still nothing happens. I’m forced to watch him suffer without anything I can do to stop it.
I see one of the other men pull out a needle and then I look around, trying to get a clue of where I am. There is nothing distinguishable about this alleyway and my only hope is to find Rose and get to Will as soon as possible.
I see a shadow approaching slowly from behind the men, but I don’t stick around to see who else is here to hurt Will. I need to hope that shadow is Rose and me coming to rescue him. I close my eyes and force myself to wake up.
I instantly feel dizziness hit me. I open my eyes and shoot upwards on my bed. My towel falls to my side, and with the way my sheets are under me, I know I’ve been thrashing in my sleep.
I strangely feel well rested. Glancing at the time, I quickly jump out of bed. It’s after lunchtime. I’ve been asleep for over eighteen hours! I don’t give myself time to wonder at that. I grab the bag I had when I left The Windmill and start loading it up with clothes, seeing future Drew’s remains are still in there. I decide I’ll have to send them back home and deal with them properly later.
I quickly change into some warm clothes, knowing I’ll thankfully be heading north where it’s cooler. I put on my new hoody that I haven’t worn before and then rush into the bathroom, taking my toothbrush and the new tube of toothpaste I bought the other day and throw that on top of my bag before zipping it up. I don’t bother to look around my room, not caring what I’ve left behind.
I run out into the kitchen and allow the first thoughts of doubt to enter my mind. Was that a real future dream? Should I be causing a panic like this? If I leave and go to Rose, it’ll mean she has to leave her new life and come with me to find Will. Will won’t be able to stay where he is and he too will have to leave his life behind. As much as I miss them, do I want to do this knowing my dream might be a fake? And if it’s real, then I’ve never been able to change a dream before. If anything I merely help move things along so that it does happen. What if me going to Will is what gets him caught?
My head begins to ache and I decide to trust my instincts. They’re telling me Will is in trouble and I have to leave now, so I grab a scrap piece of paper on the bench and write hastily that Will is in trouble and I’m going to see Rose. I mention I’m not coming back and leave it at that. I feel generous that I have even bothered telling Joel that much and am grateful that he doesn’t know where Rose is. He won’t be able to follow me, which also means I’ll never have to see him again. My body relaxes a small amount at that, and if I wasn’t so stressed about Will, I know I would have been completely relaxed. I never want to see him ever again.
I grab an apple from the counter before turning on my heel and running out the front door. I think about calling work to tell them I won’t be in tomorrow, and that I quit, but I decide Joel can answer any calls I get and tell my boss. We’ve been busy over Christmas and he had gotten in extra help, so I won’t be missed tomorrow when I don’t open the store.
I catch a bus to Pearl Street and then find a Greyhound bus going to North Carolina. On our first stop along the way, I’ll hopefully have time to mail future Drew’s remains home to Boston. I know Mom won’t open it if I mail it to myself. If it gets intercepted, then they’ll think I’m in the wrong town and they won’t be led to Jacksonville.
***
It’s ten long hours later that I arrive in North Carolina and another two hours before I can figure out where Rose is. She made it sound so easy to track each other, but I don’t understand it. By the time I do find her apartment I worry about the late hour. Will’s hurt face flashes through my mind and I press the buzzer to her apartment, knowing this is urgent. I hold it down for an annoyingly long time, wondering if she’s asleep. No one lets me in. I’m just about to contemplate ringing other people’s buzzers when someone brushes past me and uses a key to get in. I try to look like I belong as I follow behind them. I take the stairs, deciding an awkward elevator ride isn’t something I want.
Luckily, Rose is only on the third floor. I pound down the empty corridor to her door and bang on it loudly, waiting impatiently for her to answer. I don’t hear any movement inside and realize that she might not be sleeping, that she might just be out. I try the door handle, knowing it’s a long shot, discovering the door is unlocked.
I’m torn between feeling relieved that I can wait for her in here and angry that she leaves her door open. Not safe at all. It doesn’t occur to me that this might be a warning I should listen to.
I let myself in and close the door behind me. I glance around the dark room and feel around the wall until I touch a light switch. I flick it on and my eyes go straight to the Christmas tree nicely decorated in the corner of the room. This is a tree Dana would approve of. I quickly scan the room, hoping not to get bogged down by memories right now, and find an apartment that is relatively clean with lots of knickknacks around. Rose has definitely made a home here.
I walk further into the area and see a few photos framed around the place. Rose is in them all, but so is a man. She has been dating someone? When I see her bedroom and take a quick peek in, I find an open, walk-in-closet and notice a few clothing items that must belong to a man. I turn on the bathroom light and open up the cupboard to see half of it is full of men’s products. Rose is living with a guy? I close the door when I realize how nosy I’m being.
How can I ask her to leave this? Maybe she can just tell me where Will is and I can go on my own.
I already know Rose won’t do that. As soon as I tell her Will is in trouble, she’ll have to throw all this away. That’s not fair. I might not have found a life in Jacksonville, but Rose seems to have found one here. How much more do we have to keep giving up?
I walk back over to one of the photos in a blue and white frame and look at the man smiling at Rose with his arms wrapped tightly around her. They look like they’re at a park and in the clothin
g they’re in, perhaps they were going for a hike or a run. Rose looks happy and of course beautiful. Her image is in direct contrast to my own right now. I don’t recognize the man, which is no surprise. He looks older than her, perhaps in his mid-to-late-twenties. His hair is short and dark, his smile adds lines to his cheeks while his shoulders are big and toned. Rose has found herself a hunk. I wonder what she has told him, if anything, about our situation.
I step back from the photo and look around for any indication as to where they might be. Perhaps they’ll have cellphone numbers written down that I can call to get ahold of her.
I drop my bag that I’m still holding by the kitchen and glance around the counters, hoping for a clue. My eyes just glance at the fridge when the door behind me barges open. I manage to turn around in time to see a man jump at me, anger radiating from his body and wearing a gas mask. He knocks me to the ground just as an explosion goes off and the room is filled with smoke. I try to cough through it, but it’s caught in my lungs and I can’t get any air in.
“I got her!” a muffled voice yells through the smoke. He roughly grabs my hair and lifts me up towards him; the rest of my body is trapped under him as he leans over me. “This is for my family and for Sophie.” My head is then slammed hard against the ground and my vision wavers as pain radiates down my neck and through my spine.
The smoke slowly begins clearing around me as my head lolls to the side, dark spots assault my eyes. I see the bottom of the Christmas tree and my eyes shift. Suddenly Dana is lying under it, facing me. She is trying to tell me something, but it’s like her voice has been put on mute.
“Dana…” I mutter her name and a sharp intake of breath enters my lungs, the black spots recede momentarily. I vaguely notice there is commotion going on around me and the man who hit me is no longer holding me trapped. I know I should move, try and escape while I can, but my eyes are glued to Dana. She is still saying something to me, but I’ve given up trying to work out what it is. Instead, I stare at her and try to take in every inch of her.
She must be fifteen now and looks so beautiful. She’s wearing a blue nightie she used to love and her bright red hair is up in a loose ponytail. She lifts her head up, resting on her propped up hand, and again her mouth shifts urgently. I watch her lips moving and gradually I realize she’s repeating something over and over again. I squint my eyes and just make out what she is saying as strong hands grab my arms and I’m hauled up onto my feet, the image of Dana disappearing. I’m dragged away from the kitchen with Dana’s words now echoing through my mind.
She’d been saying to me, “Don’t fall asleep.”
ROSE MONTGOMERY
Chapter 5 – The Invisible Girl
Beverly Hills, California
December 13th (Rose age 8)
“Mommy, when can we put the Christmas tree up?”
“Soon.” She glances at me briefly through the large mirror she’s sitting in front of before going back to concentrating on putting her earrings in.
“But you said that yesterday.” I stomp my foot down angry for being denied, again.
“Rose, please, I really must get ready.” She sighs heavily, like dealing with me is such a burden.
“Please, Mommy, can we do it today?”
“I really don’t see why you’re insisting we all do it together. We have never done it before. I think Michelle does a magnificent job.”
“But all the other kids at school do their own.” I stomp my foot down again.
“Dear, you don’t have to follow the crowd.”
“Please, Mommy,” I beg.
“Go ask your father.” She shoos me away with her hand.
That is her response when she wants to say no, but knows I won’t listen. What Dad says is final. There is no arguing with him.
I stomp out of the room. I hate not getting what I want. I’m not asking for much. When I wanted a horse, I got one. When I wanted a necklace just like Mommy had, I got one. When I wanted to move schools because I didn’t like the girls at the one I went to, I was at a new school the next day. Why is putting a tree up so hard?
I walk up the stairs to the main area and wait at Dad’s office door. I can’t hear any voices, so he is most likely alone and not on the phone. When Dad is on the phone he usually is the one talking. No one talks to Dad. The only people he allows into his home office that haven’t scheduled a meeting are me or Mom. I have two older brothers, but they aren’t around much.
Dad always wanted two boys, and they got them straight away, so they stopped. My Aunt Josie told me once that Mom wanted a girl so badly that she insisted they try again for another one. When I came along, they both agreed no more, except they both were so busy I didn’t get to see them very much. Aunt Josie said they didn’t take their schedules into account when they decided to have me, that years ago when my brothers were young my mom had time for them, but they never had time for me.
I don’t think that’s true. I often spend my nights in Dad’s office, listening to him talk on the phone. I love the sound of his voice, even when he is mad. I always fall asleep in there.
Mom has time for me, too. I got to get all dressed up and go to a charity fashion show this year. I was too young, since I had only just turned eight, but Mom had insisted I go. I felt like a princess and Mommy had let me sit next to her while the models walked down the runway. Someone from a magazine even took our photo.
No, my Aunt Josie is wrong.
I take another deep breath and knock on the door that leads to Dad’s office.
“Come in.”
I open the heavy door and smile when I see Dad with his head down, his glasses on while he squints over whatever is written on the pages in front of him. Without looking up, he knows it’s me. “Hi, Rosie, what’s up?”
I walk over to the couch that’s against the side wall of his office facing his large wooden desk and lie down on it. It’s leather and Mom always tells me to get my shoes off it, but Dad never says it to me, so whenever she isn’t around, I figure Dad’s rules stand.
“I want us all to put the Christmas tree up together, but Mom said I have to ask you first.” I cross my fingers behind my back, hoping he’ll say yes.
“When do you want to do it?”
Dad has yet to look up from his work to see me. Once I found a blue wig in one of the boxes for a charity event Mom was hosting and I put it on for some fun. I wore it all day, and I was in Dad’s office for over an hour before he noticed it. The look on his face had been worth it, though. I laughed until my stomach hurt.
“Today.”
“Today’s not good, sweetie, Daddy’s got lots of work to do.”
“You’re always working, though,” I complain, pouting.
“Daddy’s a busy man. Can’t that woman who usually does it do it this year?”
“I thought we could do it as a family; you, me and Mom?”
“I can’t this year. I’m far too busy. I promise next year I’ll join you both.”
“Please, Daddy?” Tears pool in my eyes, and as I blink, they rush down my face.
“You know I would if I could.” His attention is back on the pages before him; he doesn’t see my tears.
The phone rings and it makes me jump. Without waiting a second, he answers it and begins barking orders before whoever is on the other end would have been able to even introduce who they are.
“I’ve seen the reports and it’s not good enough. Tell James he has two days to get this sorted or he’s gone.”
I watch the vein in his forehead pop out. I often wonder if that happens to me when I get mad, too.
I walk out of his office, not feeling like listening to his voice right now, and I shut the door behind me. Daddy hates it when I leave it open.
I walk back down the main stairs and start walking towards my room. I spend a lot of time in my room. I like it most of the time, but sometimes I feel like I’m simply stuck in there. Times like today when I want to be decorating the tree and instead have
to keep to myself. I wish my brothers were younger, that I had someone to play with, someone to talk to.
“Rosie, honey, I just spoke to Michelle and she is going to be over to do the tree in an hour.”
“Can’t we do it together, Mommy?” I wipe at my eyes to clear away the remaining tears.
“We have important guests staying with us at Christmas and we need everything to look perfect. Maybe next year, honey.” Mom pats my shoulder softly and I watch her walk over to the kitchen.
She had said that last year, so did Dad. When will next year come? When will I be able to put the star on top of a tree that I helped decorate?
Chapter 6 – The Surprise Visitor
Charlotte, North Carolina
June 12th
For almost two months my life has gone from exciting, edge-of-your-seat adventure to boring and plain. Don’t get me wrong, Charlotte isn’t as bad as I imagined. The summer is turning out to be hot and the people are nice. I got a job at a clothing store and rediscovered my love for fashion. Every bit of my savings has gone to buying new clothes. Already my closet is unbelievably full.
I rent an apartment in the third ward and have done some renovations of my own. It seemed smart at the time, but now I wonder if I should have bothered doing it at all. When I first got here, I was scared, paranoid and had adrenaline to burn. I managed to install a false wall in my walk-in-closet. It has a hidden latch that I can pull out and there is enough room to lie down and sleep if I have to. I have some emergency supplies in there, some energy bars and bottles of water. I could hide in there for a while if I wanted to. Hopefully, I never will. With every passing day and nothing happening, I think I might never need it.
It’s strange to go from so much stress and rushing to standing still. Lately, the only thing to get my blood pumping is when I discover an amazing sale and it’s close enough to payday that I still have money left. I often wish things could get livelier and I now regret feeling that way.
Taken By Force (Taken Trilogy Book 2) Page 3
