Chapter Five
“He’s turning,” I say while pointing out the window at the truck. The turn signal flashes and he’s clearly slowing down. “Don’t lose sight of him, remember? Go go go.”
“Yeah, I see. Shut up.”
“Well, maybe if you got a little closer...”
“When you get your license, then you can criticize my driving. Wait, no. You can never criticize my driving, now shut up.”
I clamp my mouth closed as she takes the turn a little too fast and squeals the tires on the driveway. Despite how dark it is out, I can see there’s a house at the end of the dirt road, along with a few old barns that should have fallen down years ago. Weeds and grass have overtaken the field off to the right and trees block in our left. As we get closer to the house, the chipped and faded paint job and electrical wiring not attached to the side of the building tell me no one’s lived here for a long time.
The man in the trench coat climbs out of the truck as Cindy puts the car in park. He pulls our door open and tells us to get out and follow him with a single jerk of his head.
“Relax,” Cindy says. “Guys like this are all show.”
I think she’s actually trying to be calming, but it’s not helping. All I want to do is run and scream and hide under the covers of my bed. I clutch my necklace as I get out of the car, both to keep Al from being jostled around too much, and for comfort.
“He said he’s working for someone,” Al says quietly enough I don’t think Cindy hears. “He shouldn’t do anything to you until the other person says so. You should be safe for now.”
Instantly I feel a little better. It’s stupid since he’s not telling me everything will be okay, only we might have time. Still, it’s better than anything Cindy has said so far.
We’re led toward one of the barns rather than to the slightly less frightening house as I expected. The wood walls stink of mold, mildew and other smells I don’t recognize and don’t want to think about. Is this where the creature has been living? It seems comfortable as it goes directly to a corner of straw, circles three times and curls up into a ball. I would say it went to sleep right then and there, except the eyes on one of the heads stay open to stare directly at me.
I shudder and pretend the thing doesn’t exist.
As I look around the old barn—at least what I can see in the light of the three lanterns strategically placed around the open space—our captor walks over to a workstation where a bunch of rusted tools and a few waterlogged cardboard boxes rest. He reaches into one of them without seeming to worry at all about it being full of rats or spiders and digs out some rope.
Something hard and a little bit sharp presses into my hand and I have to force myself not to scream. Cindy makes a face to tell me if I utter a sound, she’ll beat me to a pulp. Although I doubt she can. Then again, she does fight dirty.
“Why’d you—”
A punch to my arm later and I shut up, clenching the object in my hand hard to keep myself from punching her back in reflex. Once it’s pressed into my skin, I recognize the shape to be her keys. She barely moves her head toward the door, but I get what she means.
“Going to tell us who this client of yours is, or leave us in suspense?” As Cindy speaks, she walks around to casually examine an old stall. Trench coat guy doesn’t seem to pay any attention to her, though the chimera follows her every movement. “I’m all for foreplay, but I’m starting to think you’re leading us on. Is there anyone else, or are you some sort of perv getting his kicks from kidnapping teen girls?”
“Sit against the post,” he says. “Both of you. Back to back.”
“Nah, I’d rather stand.” She makes a show of stretching out her arms and cracking her neck. “Long trip, you know? Still working out some of the kinks in my legs.”
She gives me another look and indicates the door again as if to say, ‘What the hell are you doing? Move your ass!’
That can’t be right. No way she expects me to leave without her. But from her expression it’s clear it’s exactly what she wants. I have to trust she has a plan. Even she wouldn’t be so calm if she didn’t have a plan, and one she’s sure will work.
I start to edge toward the door, my eyes constantly flicking back and forth between the chimera and trench coat guy to make sure they don’t notice anything.
“Nice jacket, by the way,” Cindy says when she’s satisfied I’m leaving. “I’ve been looking everywhere for one. Where’d you get it?”
She’s positioned herself so they can’t watch both of us at the same time. Since she’s the one talking and moving around so much, the chimera is keeping an eye on her. Our captor still has his back to both of us as he wraps the rope around his hand and elbow to make a loose circle, untangling knots as he goes.
“Most leather out there is too shiny. The worn look is the only way to go.”
“Wait!” Al warns in a harsh whisper. I stop and nervously look around to make sure no one else heard, my hand frozen as I reach for the latch.
Without looking back, our captor says, “You can’t get out the door.” He tugs at the rope. “Well, you can try, but you might not like what it does to you. Like I said, the guy who hired me would rather I deliver you alive.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Cindy asks.
“Your sister is about to put her hand on some powerful magic that will burn her to a crisp in about thirty seconds,” he says as he finally turns around to face her. “And I got the coat off the last guy who tried to outrun Farah. You’ve no idea how much magic it took to get the blood out. Now sit against the pole.”
Cindy makes a sound as if she’s getting ready to spit and then sighs. “Fine. Let’s do this your way.”
She reaches into her pocket, and pulls her hand out again. It’s clenched around something, but I have no idea what. She raises her hand to her mouth and then kisses the space between her thumb and forefinger, all while trench coat guy watches with no readable expression.
For a second I don’t think anything is going to happen. I have no idea how she thinks kissing her own hand will change anything.
Then it does.
The air shifts and grows heavy, pressing against me until my head pounds. Everything looks different too. Wispier. Scarier. Cindy’s the worst. I can’t look at her without being overwhelmed with a need to scream. She seems to fill the room as she towers over our captor, never mind he’s nearly a foot taller than she is.
When she speaks, her voice blasts both in my ears and mind. “Who are you working for, and what do they want from us?”
He says nothing.
“Tell me!” Her voice booms and forces me to cover my ears with my arms while I clutch the back of my head to keep it from exploding from the pressure. “Who are you working for?”
“A child’s trick,” he says.
I don’t see his hand move, since I’ve got my eyes squeezed shut, but I hear the impact as he slaps her across the face. Instantly, the pressure is gone and my head stops pounding.
When I open my eyes, Cindy stands off balance with her hand clutching her face. She moves her hand away and looks down at it, eyes widening at the blood on her shaking fingers.
“Son of a bitch,” she says, but there’s no force behind her voice. “Real manly, hitting a girl.”
“Enough.”
He grabs her arm and easily tosses her toward the post he’s been telling us to sit against. Since she was already off balance, she stumbles and falls hard on the wooden floor. She tries to pull herself up, but his foot strikes her stomach with a thud. Her face twists in anger and pain as she doubles over, clutching the spot he kicked.
I want to kill him for hurting my sister, but I can’t move. I can only stare with tear-blurred eyes as he forces her back against the pole and starts tying her hands behind her.
“You too,” he says with a glance at me.
I want to refuse and fight him. I can’t remember how. The only thing I can think of is a balançoire. Real us
eful, if this was a stage fight in a ballet. I must have hesitated for too long because he stomps over to me and grabs my wrist the same way he grabbed Cindy’s and tosses me to the ground next to her. Cindy’s keys are forced out of my hand and thrown onto the worktable beside the chimera.
While he starts to tie us together, I touch my wrist where he held me. His grip had been tight, sure, but again there’s something else about his touch. It makes my entire arm feel numb and itchy and achy all at the same time. It’s like my skin is allergic to his.
“It didn’t work,” Cindy says so quietly at first I’m not sure I hear her right. “How could it not work? It always works.”
I want to say something to calm her down, or make her feel better, or simply ask her if she’s okay, but I can’t find the words. I feel like crying. Every part of my body wants the release of full out gasping sobs, but for some reason, the tears don’t come.
“Hey Al,” I say while barely moving my lips. It’s a miracle he wasn’t noticed before. I’m not about to give him away now. “You still alive?”
Nothing.
“Al?”
Still nothing.
Despite the fact I don’t want to draw attention to him, I have to look down to see if he’s still in his container. He’s not. His warning at the door was the last time I’d heard from him. Did he fall out when I was forced to the floor? Was he stepped on?
My heart beats faster and faster as I picture his tiny flattened body on the bottom of my shoe. I couldn’t have. I would have noticed. I would have seen him fall or heard him crunch.
Imagining the sound of him under the weight of my heel makes my stomach turn. I need to move. I need to check my sole even though if I see him there, or what’s left of him, I don’t know what I’ll do. I need to not be sitting here anymore.
My muscles all tense and instantly begin to cramp and shoot pain. I need out! I need out now! I pull at my bindings, yanking harder than I mean to.
The ropes give way and I expect and I have to scramble to pretend nothing’s wrong. The chimera lifts it’s sleeping head to stare at me, but it doesn’t attack. Even our captor turns to look curiously at what grabbed the creature’s attention. I drop my head and shoulders to appear defeated and more importantly, still tied up.
It doesn’t work.
Trench coat guy starts toward me and I desperately go through the attacks I can remember in search of one that will work at this angle.
Before he reaches me, the door to the barn slams open causing bits of hay and who-knows-what-else to fall from the loft onto my head. I shrink in on myself and wait for the whole building to collapse. Doesn’t whoever entered realize how old the barn is? Slamming doors will get us all killed.
But the roof doesn’t collapse and gradually I’m able to open my eyes to the most delightful sight in the world. I never thought I’d be so happy to see someone in my life.
We’re saved! Who would have ever guessed Mom’s boyfriend would be the one to rescue us?