by Jarica James
“Not so fast,” a man huffs behind me. I pick up my speed as much as I possibly can, but he clearly has height and muscle on his side. He overtakes me in seconds, slamming me to the ground. I don’t even have a chance to try and scream before the world fades to black as my head bounces off the pavement.
I wake up with a pounding pain in my head and blurry vision. I try to blink a few times and clear my eyes, but it doesn't help much. Taking a deep breath, I examine my surroundings. I'm in a small, cell-sized room with no windows and a thick door. The white walls are clean and the scent of bleach hangs in the air. A hospital bed lies in the corner and a small toilet and sink along the opposite wall. I look down at myself and realize that I'm still in my clothes at least. Thank god. That means I still have a chance.
Struggling to my feet, I step on shaky legs toward the sink and turn on the water. The last thing I need is to alert someone so they realize I snuck my phone inside. I feel around my pockets, and they’re empty. I splash water on my face and lift my shirt to dry it. As I bring my shirt down, I slip a hand in my bra to reach for my phone. The moment my fingers touch the hard plastic I feel a wave of hope. Pulling it out, I hold it down low and grasp the edge of the sink like I'm just leaning down to get my bearings. I text Sophia as quickly as I can. My phone barely has a bar of service, so I pray it actually gets to her.
Me: Sophia help kidnapped by counselor and man in red van tinted windows phone has low service knocked out not sure where I am help please help I love you
My desperate side wants to watch the text to make sure it goes through, but the rational side makes me slip it back into my bra and fix my shirt. They won’t leave me alone for long.
The moment my shirt is in place, I hear the creak of the doorknob turning on the metal door in the room. I put my back flat to the wall to face whoever comes through and pray silently. Please don't let them have noticed what I was doing.
The man who walks in looks exactly like I would picture an evil scientist. He's extremely pale, tall, and bony. His face is angular with severe pale blue eyes and a sharp nose. He has a distinct expression of disgust twisting his face, like I’m something below him.
Behind him are the two men who murdered my family. The hope I had felt from texting Sophia fades away as I look pure evil in the face. Revenge and anger pulsate in my chest, growing until I can barely breathe, the loathing filling my entire being.
“Well, you have certainly caused trouble for us. Count yourself lucky, patient 634, you will be of use to us now at least. That means you get to live, congratulations. Unfortunately for me, someone wants to speak to you before I get to start my fun,” he bites out, his voice sharp and high pitched, which causes me to instantly cringe. The fact he called me by a patient number and not my name isn’t lost on me. Instead of freaking out, I try to keep telling myself over and over that Sophia will be coming for me.
The two men lumber toward me with the promise of pain on their faces. I take a steadying breath before I attempt to fight my way through. Even if I can’t win, I'm not going to just let them abuse me. Not to mention I refuse to not inflict some harm on the men who ruined my life, stole my family, and still get to live their lives like nothing happened.
They both reach for me at the same time, and I slide between their bodies. Thank you, softball base slides! I take off toward the door, but it's a small cell and I have no real chance to gain momentum. I settle for body checking the bony scientist. I brace and lower my shoulder to ram him in the chest. I'm momentarily surprised at how weak he is as he flies into the wall in the hallway. I'm just about to round the corner when I'm roughly grabbed from behind and slammed against the wall.
“Don’t try that again, or I promise you I will enjoy every ounce of pain I inflict on you. You are no longer a person here. You are a lab rat, nothing more. Walk, rat!” the scientist snarls as one of the guards presses a gun into my back. Anger and hate boil in me, but I bide my time, knowing odds aren’t in my favor now. The other steps in front of me, and we walk single file through the hallway.
The building must be underground. The walls are cinder block and painted a bright white. Fluorescent lights flicker every few feet above our heads and not a window is in sight. The hall is lined like a dormitory with doors precisely placed. I assume there are more cells like mine behind each one. As we round the corner, the doors become less frequent. I jump as I hear screams coming from behind one of the doors we pass, pained and blood-curdling.
“I told you we aren’t afraid to inflict pain,” the guard behind me leans forward and whispers creepily into my ear. I cringe again as I fight the tears threatening to spill over. Every ounce of hope I had is seeping away with each step I’m forced to take.
Our procession finally stops in front of a set of double doors. The guard in front of me knocks, and we wait.
The door finally creaks open, and I'm not particularly surprised to see my dad’s old boss, Dominic, in front of me. I only recognize him from the fundraising events we attended. He's an older, chubby man, dressed in cheap suits and his receding hairline obvious. He always had a fake laugh and smile for everyone as he mingled through the events, and I remembered having the impression no one liked him. My dad never spoke highly of him, and Mom always cringed when he got too close.
“Welcome patient 634, let me brief you. Guards, if you will?” He sweeps his arm out, gesturing for them to lead me in. I glance around the sparse conference room. A large table fills a big portion of the room with chairs lined up around it. I'm led to a chair on one side of the table and roughly forced to sit. The guards flank my chair on either side, likely in case I get any ideas. I throw them each an annoyed glare before looking forward.
“Let’s start with you. What all have you told the police?” Dominic asks in a fake, nice voice as he settles his large bulk into the chair. I blink at him in answer. “Oh yeah, I forgot you were the mute,” he says with a pointed look to the guard behind me. Clearly he realizes the gun to the throat three years ago didn’t do me any favors in regards to talking.
In this moment, as I'm staring my captors down, I realize how thankful I am for the damage. Not speaking for three straight years, minus one yell and a few words to Cole in desperation, will help me not to crack and tell these evil men anything. It's not like I'd just get to go home if I did, anyway.
“Well, it honestly doesn’t matter. The FBI has started questioning the main facility. I can only assume that is thanks to you. Though they won’t find anything more than they have. We are careful, and we are immense. This is only one of our locations, and they have no chance of finding you.” His thin lips curl into a malicious smile and I can tell every man in this facility was handpicked for this attribute. That and their distinct lack of morals.
As he lobs that accusation and information at me, I just blink at him, keeping my face blank. For once, I embrace the numbness like an old friend, wrapping me in the warmth of its embrace. Emotionless is the only way I'll survive this, and I know it. There will be pain and likely torture in my future if those screams were a sign of the way life is here. These people don't play around, and now I'm on their shit list, meaning mine may be worse than most.
“This research facility is separated into sections. We are trying to find out exactly how far we can push the human body and how our medications can play a role in that. It goes beyond researching the slight improvement of cell regeneration for diseases. We are finding what drugs can rapidly increase muscle development, increase healing, perfecting vision. Pretty much anything we want to improve on the human body, we research it here. Do you have any idea the amount of money someone would pay for this?”
“A whole fucking lot,” one of the guards says, earning a glare from the dump truck of a boss across from us.
“Yes. The pharmaceuticals are simply a means to an end and a fantastic cover, don't you think? We have found quite a few advances down here... with the help of our volunteers of course,” he says, gesturing to me at the word voluntee
r like it’s some big prize. I blink at him again, giving nothing away, and he narrows his eyes. I’m assuming this man is used to the people he lures here or kidnaps, screaming and freaking out. I guess he shouldn’t have chosen someone who already lived through the lowest layers of hell and survived.
“Fine. You will be joining our rapid healing research team. You will be granted a shower with sterile soap and clean clothes before being allowed to enter the labs. You can throw away the clothes you are wearing in the shower room since you won’t be needing them here. Don’t get any ideas. If you take too long or you refuse to cooperate, then I will allow these men to join you in that restroom. And they aren’t afraid to break your spirit before we break your body. Are we clear?” he asks in that fake nice voice again that goes right to my head.
Refusing to look into that statement, I nod with my blank mask in place. I'm internally praying that this restroom is still on this level near an entrance, so I can get some semblance of a signal. The guards each grab me by an arm, so they can force me to stand and walk me to the shower room. It’s directly across from the conference room and inside I feel that spark of hope reignite. They both shove me at the same time, so I fall into the room as they close and lock it behind me.
The room is about the size of two cells. It has a shower that's wide open, without a curtain. A table on the opposite wall holds a set of white scrubs, underwear, a white tank top, and a hair tie. The bottle of antiseptic soap is also there, along with a rough white towel. I quickly tear off my shirt and pull out my cell phone, thankful that my chest is large enough to hide any bulk from my thin device. I dial Sophia’s number and hit call. It takes seven frustrating tries before the call actually goes through.
“Charlie?! Is that you?” Sophia screams into the phone. I quickly turn down the volume and turn on the shower head to hide the noise.
“Sophia, please send help. I will keep the call going, get someone to track my phone or trace the call. I’m going to find a way to tuck it away somewhere as long as the signal doesn’t drop. This place is bad, they are testing on people. My number is 634 if that tells you anything. I’m so scared.” My voice is raspy and borderline hysterical, her voice nearly my undoing. But I manage to get all of the words out before coughing, fighting through the pain it causes. I'm full on sobbing by the end of it. “I have to go, Sophia, or they will come in here and find out I’m calling for help or hurt me. If you don’t find me, I love you, thank you for fighting for me.”
“Stop it, Charlie. I will find you. Be discreet and be strong. I will handle the tracking, I’m at the station with the agents now. They are already tracing. I love you too, honey,” she says, her voice breaking at the words. She's clearly crying as well. Being stuck there and unable to do anything is likely killing her slowly.
Desperation claws at me as I look around for a place to hide the cell phone. Noticing only one spot to use, I take the hair tie that's in my hair and break the elastic. I use it to tie my cell to the underside of the sink’s pipes, directly under the basin. It takes me a few tries to get it secure enough not to fall off. If someone comes in to properly clean, they'll find it, but hopefully that will still give the agents enough time to find me. I crawl underneath and double check, relieved to see the signal still going before I turn the water all the way down.
I jump in the shower and scrub with the awful smelling antiseptic soap as quickly as possible. It’s easily the fastest shower of my life but I'm not giving the guards any reason to come after me. I quickly dry off and get dressed in the scrubs, tossing my clothes in the wastebasket in the corner and braiding my hair. I double check that my phone is still secure and see that the call is still going.
After a few deep breaths I let the numbness overtake me before walking to the door and knocking softly. The guard opens it and gives me an evil smile before securing my hands in a zip tie. I let my mind float back into the darkness before I can panic.
I’m led back the way we came from and through a maze of halls, and with every step a rough hand squeezes tighter. Instead of throwing me back into a room, they stop in front of a staircase leading down. I fight a wave of nausea at the thought of how much space these psychopaths have to torture us in.
God, I hope I have the strength to get through this.
At this rate, I know I'll be lucky to survive with my sanity, I just hope I can survive with my life.
Unknown
Unknown
Charlie
Pain grips at my arms and legs, the straps binding me to this chair way too tight, my fingers and toes already tingling. Trying to stay calm, I look around the lab I'm currently stuck in. I can’t name half of the equipment or explain what their purpose is, but from the dark red stains on the floor I can guess it’s nothing good.
Getting here wasn’t easy. My instincts had kicked in when I saw the room and I’d tried to fight back. So now I'm also sporting some crazy bruising. I'm no match for the two huge beasts, unfortunately. My heart stops as I hear the door slide open.
“Now the fun can begin,” the same scientist from earlier announces as he walks up to the equipment surrounding me. I notice that the name Timmins is embroidered on the pocket of his white lab coat.
Once he's done with the lab equipment he heads over to a cart and rolls it closer to me. My stomach drops as I notice the needles and IV tubing that awaits me. I start to thrash against the arm restraints. No fucking way am I letting this insane person stick needles in me. I'm rewarded with a swift smack to my face and a satisfied look on his.
“You deserved that for your little stunt earlier. Now quit thrashing or I promise I will stick you over and over until I get it right.” I respond to his threat with a visible eye roll and more thrashing. He ignores me as he prepares the IV line. True to his word, he grips my arm with one hand while I flail around and uses the other to attempt to hit the vein. I ignore the awful pain and refuse to back down. Panic and adrenaline have me feeling so high that I don’t give a single fuck about anything but not getting this IV. I know that I'm probably making this worse on myself, but the fact they will pump experimental drugs into my system is motivating me to fight. I have a feeling the moment I give up and let it happen is the moment I truly lose.
Detective Flynn
Twenty Minutes Post Kidnapping
“What do you mean she was kidnapped again?” I bellow into the phone. My head immediately starts pulsing in pain. What the heck is happening in Arcadia Hills? “I’ll be there as soon as I can!” I yell at the officer unlucky enough to inform me of the kidnapping. Reaching into the closet, I swiftly grab an overnight bag, my gun, and badge before running to my car.
As soon as I turn the key in the ignition, I flick the lights on and slam down on the gas as I sail toward the fucking town failing my charge.
While I was getting my stuff, they’d called back, leaving the update in a voicemail. They received word about twenty minutes ago that Charlotte was missing again. Apparently she wasn’t outside when her foster mom went to pick her up from school. Word from the boyfriend is that the guidance counselor called her into the office late in the day. The office staff reported her leaving the office about fifteen minutes after the bell rang. They found her abandoned backpack in front of the school but no trace of her. I growl in frustration and punch my steering wheel for good measure. I promised the kid I would solve this and yet here I am, in the dark again and her life in danger.
My lights flash and people pull out of my way as I fly down the highway, fuming the entire way to the Arcadia Hills police department. By some fucking miracle I calm down enough to give the agents an update, telling them she was kidnapped again and relieved to hear they are as pissed off as I am. Hopefully they will beat me there and we can get her back unharmed.
If the same people who murdered her family have her, they aren’t likely to let her live for long. We have to be quick and the clock has already been ticking. That thought alone has me in a panic. This kid dealt with enough and has come too
far for it to end like this. She deserves better.
My ringtone fills the air and I snatch up my phone only to notice it's Sophia, Charlotte’s foster mom.
“Flynn.” It's all I can get out before she starts hysterically yelling into the phone.
“She’s been kidnapped, Flynn. I just received a text from her. I guess they didn’t find her phone on her. Tell me you guys can track her phone’s location! They can’t just have my girl, we have to get her back…” She sobs into the phone as she trails off.
“I promise I am going to put everything I’ve got into finding her. Get to the station and wait for the agents. They can help you better than the officers there. I’m almost there,” I explain, trying for a soothing voice, but it fails. Instead, I sound harsh, even to my own ears. I hang up without letting her get a word in and pick up my speed again.
As soon as I walk into the station, I'm greeted by the two agents I've been working with. Thank God they got here first, now we can dive right in.
“Flynn, I’ve got officers getting the school’s footage at the time of the kidnapping. The text she sent accused the counselor of being involved. The officers should have her in custody soon, so she will be here for questioning. I’ve got a tech expert on the way to work on tracking her cell phone. This station isn’t exactly equipped for a case of this magnitude, though.” He feeds me these updates as we power walk through the halls, not bothering with proper greetings.
How the hell did the guidance counselor get involved? This whole case is the biggest fucking mess I've ever seen.
