Shadows 02 Celtic Shadows

by K C West

  While relieving my bladder, I listened, trying to locate the two men. I could hear one of them off to my right, but the other was quiet. Too quiet. I pulled up my pants and took an experimental peek from under the blindfold. It was still night. The only real light came from the car’s headlights, off to my left. We had stopped in a wooded area. As my eyes adjusted to the low level of light, I saw plenty of shadowy rocks and thick brush to shield my escape, if I chose to try it.

  Should I go for it? I wished my legs felt stronger. I wished I knew where “Garlic Breath” was right now. Most of all, I wished Kimmy were here to help me. She’d know what to do.

  I took a deep breath. Tugging the blindfold downward so it rested around my neck like a bandana, I stepped off to my right, keeping the tree’s trunk between the glow of the car’s headlights and myself.

  After a few steps, I paused to listen before moving on. Even my heartbeat seemed magnified in the damp night air.

  A noise from my left meant that the one guy was moving, too. “Come on, Blondie. Finish it up.”

  I could sense rocks and tall brush ahead of me, and I took longer strides to reach them. Breathing hard, I slipped into the wet foliage and listened.

  A whistle pierced the stillness, making me jump. The guy I had eluded was shouting something to his buddy.

  Time to pick a direction and make a run for it. I did a mental flip of a coin, turned left, and slipped between two large rocks, ducking under a low-hanging tree branch.

  “Jesus, I hope my luck holds,” I muttered under my breath.

  The tree branch moved and an arm snaked around my neck, immobilizing me.

  “Sorry, your luck’s all bad tonight.” His arm tightened, cutting off my breathing. “Ain’t life a bitch?”

  Bright, flashing lights danced in front of my eyes. I felt a needle jab into my hip, and the lights disappeared.

  *

  “Easy does it, I’m just trying to help you.” A woman’s gentle Welsh lilt floated above me, and a cold cloth pressed against my forehead. Her hand touched my cheek. “Awfully warm,” she said. “Are you in a lot of pain, miss?”

  I was tied up again, and the blindfold was back in place. My left side was still numb, and my right side still ached. Instead of the backseat of a car, I was lying on some sort of moldy mattress. I hadn’t felt this spaced out since I’d had my wisdom teeth pulled.

  “Miss? Can you hear me?”

  I tried to swallow. My tongue was thick; my saliva tasted like vomit and blood. I licked my dry lips and discovered that they were split and swollen. My cheek was sore and my jaw throbbed. One of those guys must have punched me. I was going to have one hell of a bruise.

  A hand shook my shoulder. “Miss?”

  “I can hear you,” I croaked. “Can you untie me and tell me where I am?”

  The hand rested on my right shoulder, warming it. “Sorry, no. I have to do what they tell me. I’m a captive, just like you.”

  I tried to move a bit on the mattress and felt the familiar prickling of pins and needles along my left side as I regained feeling. Good news for once. My feet weren’t tied. When I wiggled my toes, I discovered my shoes were missing.

  “Could I maybe sit up? How long have I been here?”

  The woman exhaled. I could detect the faint fragrance of lavender.

  “Sorry, luv. I really have no idea. A few hours I suppose. I could try to help you move, if you’re certain you aren’t too injured.”

  I took a deep breath, testing my body. “Headache and a pain in my ribcage, on the right side. Otherwise, I’m okay. I think.”

  “All right, then.”

  Her strong arms gripped and twisted my upper body when I slid my legs and feet off the bed. I let out a long moan as my ribs protested the new positioning, and the prickling along my left side seemed to go on forever.

  “Thank you,” I said when I could take a breath. A wave of nausea alarmed me.

  “What’s wrong? You’ve gone all white.”

  “Sorry, but I’m going to be sick again.” I tried taking slow breaths, but the feeling only increased.

  There was a hurried shuffling and scraping, and a metal container was thrust into my lap. “There you go. It’ll be all right.”

  She held my head and braced my hips as I vomited again. This time there was little left to contribute, but I continued dry heaving for several seconds until my stomach settled. Damn, what was in that stuff they had shot into me? Sweat coated my face and chest. I was hot and cold at the same time.

  “I’ve been drugged,” I told the woman.

  “Aye, miss. That you have.” I heard her rinse the cold cloth again, and she dabbed at my mouth, avoiding my puffy lip and bruised cheek. “And, by the looks of it, you’ve not taken too kindly to whatever it was.”

  She offered me a drink of lukewarm water and held the cup to my lips while I sipped. My stomach felt better now that it was empty, but my brain was another matter. The throbbing continued. Even when I sat back on the mattress, keeping my head level, my internal gyroscope tilted out of control.

  “I can’t stay here,” I told the woman. “I’ve got to get out of this - this - whatever it is.”

  “It’s a cellar we’re in, in some sort of country cottage, I believe. They brought me here in the dark, blindfolded like you. Put me in a room upstairs and told me I was to see to a woman, fix their meals and such, and that I was not to try to escape. They said if I did exactly as they told me, they’d let me go free.”

  “And you believe them?”

  “I have to.”

  “I see.” The poor woman was scared to death. Not that I could blame her. I was pretty terrified myself, but fear didn’t have to immobilize us. Maybe we could help each other. “I’m PJ. What’s your name?”

  “Sarah.” She finished wiping my face and neck. “Do you want more water, PJ?”

  “Not right now, thanks.”

  She busied herself making me as comfortable as possible, straightening and smoothing the rough blanket that I was lying on.

  I wondered if she was what she seemed, or if she was one of the gang. “What can you tell me about the men who brought us here? I know about two of them. I think they’re just thugs. They mentioned a boss. Have you heard about him? Do they have guns or weapons? Have they talked about their plans?”

  She inhaled sharply. “So many questions.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s just that they may not leave us alone too much longer.”

  I heard her move the metal container to one side. “Your wounds need attention, and you should rest.”

  “I know, I know. But, it’s more important that I find out what you know.”

  “Very well.” She cleared her throat and put her arm around my shoulders. “I’ve seen three men. Two roughnecks to do the dirty work like capturing us and tossing us about, and one a bit more refined - a gentlemanly sort, by his speech.”

  “Is he American also?”

  “He didn’t say much, but now that you mention it, I believe he is.”

  “Okay. Go on. Did they discuss any plans in front of you?”

  “I can’t - ”

  There was a sound of a door opening to my left, and Sarah fell silent. She withdrew her comforting arm and stood up.

  “She awake, finally?” It was the man with the sore nose.

  “Yes,” Sarah said, “but she’s hurt. And whatever you gave her upset her stomach. She needs medical attention.”

  “Hey, this isn’t a hospital. She’s going to have to make the best of it, just like you.”

  Sarah sat back down beside me and put her hand on my knee. “You’re wearing a ski mask. Can’t I at least remove her blindfold and bandage her injuries?”

  “Yeah, how about it?” I put in my two cents. “Even the Geneva Convention calls for better treatment of prisoners.”

  “All right, all right. Wait a minute. I’ll go see what can be arranged.” He turned and left, muttering curses under his breath.

  I managed a
small grin of triumph, and Sarah gave my knee a reassuring squeeze.

  “There’s a big bathroom upstairs. You could take a hot bath, or maybe a shower if you can stand. I’ll take a look at your ribs and see about something for your headache. You’d need a CT scan to rule out a concussion, but I could do a few checks.”

  “You sound like a doctor. Have you had medical training?”

  “I studied to be a nurse, but my parents divorced and there wasn’t any money left for my schooling. That’s when I found work as a servant on a rich man’s estate. Don’t worry, I’ve got enough first aid skills to make you more comfortable.”

  “I’m not worried. Just tell me how you became involved with these guys. Why did they kidnap you?”

  “Because I was there, handy.”

  The door opened again, and we both fell silent.

  “The blindfold can come off, and I can untie her hands while she’s locked in the cellar.”

  “Good,” Sarah said. She removed the cloth covering my eyes.

  The light came from a single, bare bulb, but it was bright enough to make me blink and squint until my eyes adjusted. I tried to see everything at once without appearing too inquisitive. The room was small and had several tall, fully-loaded bookshelves, as well as the moldy cot and chair. Sarah was a little taller and thinner than I was, and a little younger, too. Her short blonde hair was just a bit darker than mine.

  The guy with the sore nose was very tall, and had a muscular build. A green ski mask covered most of his face, but his eyes looked dark, and his lips were thin. Only the tip of his red, swollen nose was visible.

  “I’m sorry about that,” I said, pointing to my own nose.

  “What?” He waved his hand. “Oh, forget it.”

  “Do you want Sarah to look at it?”

  “No, it’s fine. I’ve got some instructions, so listen up. If you want to stay alive and healthy, you do exactly what I say. When you have to use the John, yell for one of us, and we’ll walk you up there. The girl can help you, but you have to be tied up for the trip up and down. Since you tried to escape, you can’t be trusted, and we gotta be careful.”

  “I understand.”

  “Good,” he said.

  “Your boss’s orders?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can she go upstairs now to the loo?” Sarah seemed bound and determined to treat my wounds. Not that I was complaining. “I’d like to fix her some tea. I can fix all of us some tea. How would that be?”

  “Yeah, whatever.” The guy helped me stand. I caught a whiff of a woodsy scent on his clothing, pine maybe. He took hold of my shirt collar and elbow and escorted me out of the room.

  “Take it easy. I’m not a sack of flour, you know.” My legs were still shaky, and I had trouble walking, but I tried to act fearless.

  Sarah took my other arm and we climbed fifteen steps to the first floor.

  Garlic Breath met us in the hallway. He sported a bright red ski mask and a black T-shirt tucked into tight jeans. When they stood next to each other, he was about three inches taller than “Woodsy.” Both of them had thick biceps and well-developed pecs. No wonder I hadn’t been able to get away from them back in the village. They were huge.

  “What are you staring at, Blondie?” Garlic Breath asked.

  I could hear the sneer behind the knitted mask, and his eyes took their own sweet time moving up my body. It took all my concentration to keep from shuddering.

  “I’m taking her to the loo,” Sarah said in a firm voice.

  Garlic Breath stepped into our path, taking up a position on my right side. Sarah gave me a weak smile and went ahead of us down a narrow hallway.

  “Eyes straight ahead.” He tugged my elbow, so that I stumbled and fell against him. “Oops. Here, let me help you.”

  “I could manage just fine if you’d keep your filthy paws off of me ” I tried to right myself and prevent him from groping me at the same time. He slipped one hand under my wool shirt and squeezed my left breast.

  “Hey!” I dipped my shoulders and twisted away from him.

  “What’s the matter?” Woodsy asked. He’d seen me stumble, but he hadn’t noticed his partner’s roaming hand.

  We all stared at each other for a few seconds. Sarah had reached the door to the bathroom and turned. “Here we go.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, I can take it from here.” I walked as quickly as I could to the doorway.

  Woodsy caught up to me, but Garlic Breath had the knife. He made a big show of sliding it down my back to my bound hands.

  “Hold still. I wouldn’t want to cut any of your finer body parts by accident.”

  “Heaven forbid,” I muttered. The plastic tie came away and my wrists were free again. They were scraped and bleeding from the tight restraints.

  “Come on, relax.” He stroked my jaw. “You’re not going anywhere for a while. We got a little business to conduct with your old man, but in the meantime - ”

  “In the meantime, stay as far away from me as possible.”

  He patted my shoulder and let his hand trail down the front of my shirt. “Maybe I should help you get cleaned up. I’m not sure we can trust the girl to do a thorough job.”

  Woodsy stepped between us. “You go ahead, miss. We’ll be right out here. The windows are nailed shut, so don’t even think about leaving.”

  I glared at Garlic Breath while rubbing my sore wrists. Then, I nodded in Woodsy’s direction. “I’ll take your warning under advisement.”

  Sarah filled the sink with warm water and helped me clean up. She found gauze to wrap my wrists and antibiotic ointment to ward off infection. My T-shirt and pants were soiled with mud. We left them soaking, while Sarah pulled a pair of jeans and a clean shirt from a shelf in the bathroom closet.

  “I don’t have much,” she said. “They gave me some toilet articles, and I found some clothes in my room here. I guess they belong to the owner. They’re men’s, but they aren’t too bad a fit. I’ll wash your things as soon as we get you bandaged up.”

  My eyes filled with tears. “Thank you for your kindness. We’ll get through this okay, you’ll see. And after we do, I’m going to see to it that you get back into that nursing program.”

  “Sit right there, PJ. Don’t go on so about rewarding me. I intend to get out of here alive, so I’m just doing what I’m supposed to do, nothing more, nothing less.”

  While I sat still on the toilet, trying not to whimper, Sarah examined my ribs, pronounced them bruised but not broken, and made neat bandages for my wrists. With gentle movements, she pulled the shirt over my head and helped guide my arms through the sleeves. Then, she steadied me while I climbed into the jeans. They were about six inches too long, so she rolled the cuffs for me.

  “There you go. Almost good as new.” The emphasis was on the almost.

  She gave me a quick hug. “Let’s get the tea kettle on and fix you a proper meal.”

  “Okay.”

  She bent to tidy up our medical station. I took a moment or two to search the room for possible escape aids. It looked like the guys had cleared everything nonessential out of the place. There was a cabinet behind the mirror, and I eased it open. It made a slight squeak of protest, but wasn’t loud enough to raise an alarm. Two or three bottles of medicine were stuck in some yellow goo to the bottom shelf. I couldn’t tell what had been in them, only that the expiration date had long since passed.

  Sarah looked at me. “What - ”

  I put my fingers to my lips and whispered, “Just checking on a couple of things.”

  She nodded.

  The top shelf held a more current bottle of something called Ambien. I read the label: Ten milligrams. One tablet by mouth at bedtime, as needed. The bottle contained warnings about drowsiness and avoiding machinery. Must be a sleeping pill. It was prescribed for Mr. Peter Gibbs of -

  The door rattled and I quickly closed the cabinet, but not before memorizing the name of what I hoped was the town of my captivity - Llanrwst.r />
  Chapter 14

  It had been two days since PJ’s kidnapping, and the police remained in close contact with me. Geoff and Trevor spent a lot of time working with them, in addition to snooping around on their own.

  Reporters got wind of the event, but after breaking the initial story, they backed off and cooperated with the police. I suspected Frederick had something to do with that.

  Ransom notes surfaced, but so far, all of them had proven to be hoaxes. I felt as though my wheels were spinning in useless effort.

  My health improved; the flu bug that weakened me was almost out of my system. My brain was functional and my stamina increased daily. The one person, besides PJ, that I really needed to talk with was her father. I had been waiting all day to hear from him. We hadn’t spoken in nearly twenty-four hours, and to tell the truth, I was annoyed that he hadn’t kept in more frequent contact. Didn’t he understand that just talking to him helped me cope with PJ’s disappearance?

  Arwel stopped by the room to say that Frederick had left a message telling me there were developments, but ones he didn’t feel free to discuss on the phone. I found myself pacing between the desk and the door, much to Pup’s annoyance.

  What had he meant by “didn’t feel free to discuss?” Why hadn’t he talked to me directly? Because he knew I would demand to know what had developed? Didn’t he realize that we were in this together, that PJ’s safety was of paramount importance to both of us?

  Obviously, he had his reasons. And since I trusted his motives, I had no choice but to wait to hear from him later.

  It just wasn’t like him to avoid following through in a timely fashion. That was probably why I felt so uneasy.

  When a knock came at the door, it startled me so much my heart was thumping in my ears as I opened it. The two police officers looked smart in their dark knit sweaters and sharply creased slacks. The man was tall. He removed his cap with its black and white checkered band, revealing a head of closely cropped black hair. The young woman was our freckle-faced friend from Aberystwyth, Sergeant Blodwyn Jones.