by Lisa Regan
Suddenly, the fingers were snatched back into the darkness. Was Jack in there with her? Preventing her from escaping? Josie looked at Charlotte just as they rounded the house to alight onto the porch.
“Yes,” Josie said. “Tomorrow.” But she already knew that the only thing she’d be doing tomorrow was leaving this place. She now knew where the trail was to get out and where Emilia was. She only had to find a moment when Charlotte and Jack weren’t breathing down her neck and she could escape.
Fifty-Three
Every muscle in Josie’s body seemed permanently tensed. That night she had no trouble staying awake. Charlotte had left her untied and her legs bobbed against the thin mattress as Jack occasionally passed through the hallway. She could tell not by the creak of the hallway floor—he made no noise, he never did—but by the shadow that passed through the slit at the bottom of the door. She wondered if he ever slept. Getting past him was going to be the real problem, she realized. Even if it came to fighting, she knew she could take Charlotte, but Jack was large, strong and, it seemed, without humanity. Josie knew from the black walnut he had delivered to her that very little stood between her and Jack carrying out whatever sick fantasies he harbored about her. She knew he was itching to break every one of Charlotte’s rules.
She thought of her team and wondered how close they were to finding her. She was certain Noah wouldn’t sleep until she was safe. Imagining them out there searching for her buoyed her but she knew, deep down, that it was up to her to rescue Emilia and escape. If she could make it out of the house, she could easily kick in the glass of the basement window—she still wore her boots—but that might make too much noise. Although, she might not have a choice. She hadn’t seen an entrance to the basement inside the house the entire time she’d been there.
After Jack’s shadow passed her doorway for the second time, she waited as long as she could stand it. She had no idea what time it was, but she knew it was deep into the night. Surely he was asleep by now. When her heart started thudding so loudly in her chest she felt as though it might burst through bone and skin, she decided to just go for it.
Her heart hammered all the way through the upstairs hallway, down the steps, and into the foyer. As her fingers trembled on the front door lock, her heart skipped two beats, then roared back to life in double time as her hands worked slowly and methodically to unstick the screen door. She stepped through it, took three steps, and jumped from the porch. Her feet landed softly in the grass. It was a clear night. The moon shone overhead, lighting everything around her in a silver glow. The house sat silent and dark. No movement caught her eye.
Adrenaline had driven away all her weakness, dizziness, and exhaustion for the moment. With swift feet, she rounded the back of the house and found the two basement windows. Josie went to the one where she’d seen the fingers trying to pry away the cardboard. Someone had pushed it back into place. Feeling around the window frame, she tried to determine if she could somehow push it in or pull it out toward her. It wasn’t meant to open at all, it seemed. It was just a long, flat pane of glass in a wooden frame, painted in thick blue. But the frame, like the other window frames on the outside of the house, looked semi-rotted, moist, and saggy.
Her knees sank into the damp grass. She had no idea what kind of sleeper Jack was, but she guessed he would wake at the slightest sound. Still, she had no choice. Josie sat down and then leaned backward, bracing her hands against the ground. She raised both feet, aimed at the small pane of glass, and with a heaving chest, kicked as hard as she could.
The entire window caved in with more of a thunk sound than a crack. Turning onto her knees, she used her bandaged hand to clear as much of the glass and wood as she could. Some of it fell into the darkness of the cellar, and the rest she tossed to the side. Poking her head in, she saw nothing but blackness. “Emilia,” she whispered as loudly as she dared.
Nothing.
She pushed her shoulders into the opening. “Emilia,” she called, raising her voice a little more.
The sound of a whimper came from the darkness.
Josie said, “Emilia, can you hear me?”
Another low whine.
Jack wouldn’t have left her unbound after discovering she’d tried to peel away the cardboard covering the window, Josie realized, feeling sick. She’d have to go inside. There was no way to tell how steep the drop was, or how big the space inside. It mattered little: if Josie wanted to take Emilia with her, she was going to have to squeeze through the tiny hole into complete darkness and get her.
Terror clawed at her, making it hard to breathe, as she rolled onto her stomach and slid into her own worst nightmare. Into her past. Into her personal hell. Her late husband Ray’s voice came back to her: the darkness can’t hurt you.
He had been right; the darkness had never hurt her. It was always the monsters in the light, and she wasn’t about to get caught by the one sleeping two floors up. Pushing her upper body through the opening, she fell, hands first, onto a hard-packed dirt floor. A stinging vibration shot from her wrists to her shoulders. Turning quickly onto her back, she was relieved to see a slice of moonlight illuminating the small rectangle that led back outside to freedom.
On her hands and knees, she felt her way around the room, calling out Emilia’s name in a hiss. Each time she was rewarded with a small cry, and she changed her direction to match it until her hands bumped up against something that trembled beneath her touch. It was her. She squirmed madly beneath Josie’s hands.
Josie said, “Emilia, my name is Josie Quinn. I’m a detective with the Denton police department. I’ve come to help you. I’m going to get you out of here, but we have to be very quiet.”
Emilia stilled. Josie felt the limb beneath her with both hands until she realized she was touching Emilia’s thigh. Moving her hands upward, she reached Emilia’s face. Cloth was tied around her head, covering her mouth. Josie tore at it until she heard the woman take a deep, shuddering breath.
“My hands,” Emilia said urgently. “Untie my hands and I can help you with my feet.”
Relief washed over Josie. Emilia was ready and willing to get the hell out of there. Hands poked at Josie’s neck. She reached up and grasped Emilia’s bound wrists, feeling her way around the thick rope until she found the knot. Sweat poured from Josie’s scalp and into her face as she tried to loosen it. The slice on her own hand burned. Her wrists ached. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she freed Emilia’s hands. Their heads clashed together as Emilia sat upward like a shot. The impact caused a flash of light behind Josie’s eyes. She fell backward, holding her head.
Emilia whispered. “I am so sorry. Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” Josie croaked, feeling momentarily disoriented. “Can you get your legs free? We have to get out of here.”
There was a rustling as Emilia tried to untie her ankles. “Where’s Jack?” she asked.
Josie said, “Sleeping, I hope.
“He sleeps pretty deeply,” Emilia said. “But only a few hours at a time.”
Josie heard rope drop to the floor. Then Emilia said, “Let’s go.”
They found each other’s hands and stood up. “There,” Josie said, pointing to the smashed-in window. “When you get out, run in a straight line, do you understand? Into the trees. Wait for me there. If anything happens—if you see Jack or Charlotte or you hear anything—just run. Don’t stop. Not for anything. Do you understand?”
Emilia squeezed her hand and Josie took that as a yes. While Emilia pulled herself up and through the opening, gasping as she scraped over shards of glass, Josie pushed her thighs and rear-end from the cellar floor. Once she was through, Josie listened for her footfalls through the grass, flinching when she heard the crunch and snap of twigs which signified that Emilia had made it to the treeline.
Josie scrambled up, feeling her pants tear on the glass, hearing it crunch beneath her body as she fit herself through the opening. The night air was thick and hum
id but after the close confines of the cellar, it felt heavenly. Josie got to her feet, swaying with fatigue, her nerves jangling. Emilia hissed, “Over here,” and Josie followed the sound until her own feet crunched over the debris on the forest floor. They clung to each other. Out here, as her eyes adjusted once more, Josie could see the other woman’s dirt-streaked face. Emilia smiled at her, then reached down and took her hand.
“Thank you for coming,” she said.
Josie nodded. “We have to get out of here right now. As fast as we can. There’s a trail.” She pulled Emilia along. “This way.”
All Josie could hear was a roar inside her head and somewhere beneath it, the sounds of their labored breath mingling. They found the willow, then the trail behind it, and raced along it as quickly as they could. It felt like miles. Josie had no way of knowing where it came out, and she knew she didn’t have time to stop and question Emilia as to what she might know about where they were.
Josie’s lungs burned with the effort of running so fast and so far after being kept prisoner for so long. Emilia slowed down incrementally, and Josie urged her on, driven by desperation.
Then something hard hit Josie directly in the chest, sending her flying backward. Her hand tore from Emilia’s and then a scream ripped through the night. Her head hit the trunk of a tree. Josie blinked and realized she was flat on her back. The moonlight filtered through the treetops in eerie slants of dull light. She searched for Emilia, her ears pricked for the sound of her crying or breathing—something.
Then a long, dark shadow blotted out what little moonlight was left.
“Where do you think you’re going?” said Jack.
Fifty-Four
A primal shriek rose from the depths of Josie’s diaphragm, bouncing and echoing off the trees around them. Every ache and pain in her body forgotten, she clambered to her feet and charged at Jack, driving her shoulder into his hip. As her body made contact with his, he buckled but didn’t fall. When she realized he wasn’t going down, Josie stayed close and rammed her elbows into his mid-section. He was an impenetrable wall. Jack swiped at her head, catching her temple and sending her back to the ground. As one of his hands clamped down on her upper arm, another howl reverberated through the surrounding trees. Emilia was a black shadow flying through the air as she jumped onto Jack’s back. He whirled around, hands reaching behind him to try to grab her.
On the ground, Josie felt around her until her hand closed around a large tree branch, a little longer than a baseball bat but thick enough to do some damage. She hoped it would be enough to help them get away. Jack thrashed with Emilia tight on his back, her thin arms wrapped around his throat. He reached up with both hands, trying to pull her loose, but she held tightly. Josie ran at him, drawing the branch back and swinging with all her might. It hit his midsection, but he barely seemed to notice. He whirled around and slammed Emilia against a nearby tree. With a broken cry, she slid off his back and slumped to the ground, unmoving. Fear drove a spike through Josie’s heart. Had he killed her? Had the two of them escaped and come all this way just for Emilia to die?
Josie swung at him again as he turned to look for her, this time hitting him in the kidneys. He grunted but kept coming. Next she aimed for his knee, making solid contact, causing him to stumble. But he was too strong, too energized. He was enjoying this, she realized. This was his darkness. Not just the stalking or the imprisonment. It was the violence of the chase that brought him to life. Regaining his footing, he reached for her. She backed up and swung the branch again, missing him and losing her balance. As she fell forward, he caught her. Lifting her as though she weighed nothing, he pressed her back against the nearest tree and then held her there, one hand pinning her sternum and the other closing around her throat. She clawed at his eyes, but he merely straightened his arms so she couldn’t reach his face. She scratched her nails along his arms, up his wrists, feeling for the pinky fingers on each of his hands. If she could just peel one finger away and snap it like a twig, she might stun him long enough to get away.
His fingers didn’t budge. Josie felt her consciousness unmoor, felt herself floating off into the deep blackness of oblivion. No, a voice in her head cried. Not like this. Not now. Even as she willed her body to keep fighting, her arms fell away, slack and useless.
Then the pressure was gone. Josie’s upper body folded in on itself. She braced her hands against her knees, trying to stay upright. From somewhere to her left came the sounds of grunts and the crunch of bone, as well as the rustle of the forest floor being disturbed. Josie blinked several times, trying to bring the shapes into focus. Two bodies on the ground. Jack and someone else. Far too large to be Emilia. Josie looked in the other direction and saw Emilia, still motionless on the ground.
She looked back to see that one of the men had straddled the other. She took a step closer and saw that it was Jack pinned down on his back. The other man rained down blows on his face. She heard a crack. Definitely bone. Something wet slapped against her face. She reached up and touched it. The coppery smell told her it was blood. She stepped forward again and grabbed at the attacker’s shoulder. “Stop,” she said. “Stop.”
The man ceased punching. Breathing hard, he hefted himself from Jack’s immobile body and stood. Turning, she saw his face in the moonlight and stumbled backward. “Donovan?” she said.
The hermit stood before her, his dark, flinty eyes gleaming. For a moment, Josie wondered if she was hallucinating. “What are you—what are you doing here?” she asked, realizing that she must have been at Charlotte and Jack’s hideaway long enough that Andrew Bowen had managed to get Michael Donovan released from jail.
“Come on,” he said roughly.
“No,” Josie said. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m going home.”
He shook his head, as if annoyed with her. Then he walked over and knelt beside Emilia.
“Leave her alone,” Josie said but as she drew closer, she saw he was checking Emilia’s throat for a pulse.
“She’s alive,” he said flatly.
Relief flooded through Josie. She moved closer and knelt beside him. “I’ll take care of her, but we’re not going with you.”
He chuckled. “I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t care about you—or her.”
“Then why are you here?” Josie asked. “Where are we?”
“North of Denton.” He leaned forward and slid his hands under Emilia’s body. Lifting her easily, he slung her over one of his shoulders. He stood and started walking, stepping over Jack’s body. Josie didn’t stop to see if he was alive or not. She had no idea what the hell was happening, and she didn’t have time to help the man who had just tried to kill both her and Emilia.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she said as she jogged to keep up with the hermit’s long and easy strides. “What were you doing here?”
“Looking for supplies,” he said gruffly.
“You must be miles from your caverns,” she said.
“You want to go home or not?” he snapped.
“You’re taking us home?”
“Shut up and walk.”
She followed him until the first fingers of light crept up the horizon. Occasionally, Emilia groaned, the sound a sweet relief because it meant she was alive. There was no way for Josie to know how far they had walked but by the time they reached a road, she felt so weak that she was afraid if she stopped moving, she’d never start again. Dawn was pink and yellow, and fog rose from the asphalt as the hermit stopped at the shoulder of the road. Josie saw nothing in either direction but more trees.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“A road.”
He walked along the shoulder until he found a spot where a large oak tree shaded the side of the road. “Sit,” he told her.
“What?” Josie said. “Why?”
“Shut up and sit.”
Too tired to argue, she sank to the ground. Carefully, he laid Emilia down with her head cradled in Josie’s lap. Then he t
urned and began walking away.
“Wait,” Josie called. “Where are you going?”
He didn’t turn to look at her, just called over his shoulder. “Someone will find you here.”
“You can’t just leave us here,” Josie shouted after him. “Emilia is hurt. She needs medical care.”
“Shut up and wait,” he said and disappeared into the trees.
Fifty-Five
The sun was high in the sky by the time Emilia’s eyes fluttered open. The day grew hotter with each minute, it seemed. Even in the blessed shade, both of them were drenched with sweat. Josie’s lower body was numb. She’d fallen in and out of sleep, perking up when she thought she heard a vehicle, only to realize it had been in her head. She wasn’t even sure at this point what was real and what was not. She stroked the hair away from Emilia’s face and looked into her eyes.
Emilia said, “Where are we?”
Laughter bubbled up from Josie’s stomach, uncontrollable. Emilia’s head bobbed in her lap as it escaped from her mouth. “I d-don’t k-know,” she stammered.
Emilia turned her head toward the road. “How did we get here?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Josie answered.
“Tell me.”
Josie recounted the night’s events and then explained who the hermit was and how Josie had come to know of him. As she spoke, Emilia tested out each of her limbs. She tried to sit up, but fell back immediately, squeezing her eyes shut. After a few moments, she tried again, moving slowly with Josie’s help. “There’s two of everything,” she said.
“Yeah,” Josie said. “You took a pretty good hit. You need to go to the hospital.”
Emilia leaned against Josie, fitting her head on Josie’s shoulder. “We’re just waiting then?”
“Yes,” Josie said. “Someone has to drive down this road at some point today. I hope.”
