Page 5

5

ARELLA

Earlier

I wake up feeling groggy with a slight headache. I’m about to get up to grab some medicine when the handcuffs stop me. What?

I jerk upright. I’m on a twin-size bed with yellowed sheets. The walls around me are charred from the floor to the ceiling. The clock on the wall is warped like it’s been melted at one point. Parts of the carpet are blackened too. Where am I? And has someone been burned alive here?

“Good morning.” A young woman stationed on a folding chair in the corner smiles sweetly at me. She looks about eighteen or nineteen. If she’s the reason I woke up in a strange place wearing handcuffs, that wholesome look on her face is very deceiving.

“Where am I? Who are you?”

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” she says calmly as if she wasn’t watching me sleep a minute ago. “I’ll answer as many questions as I can. My name’s Katie.”

“Where am I?”

“You’re in Shadow Ridge.”

Why does she say that as if it’s the same as saying “Welcome to New York” or “This is Miami”? I’ve never heard of a town called Shadow Ridge. “Where is that?”

She places the iPad onto the floor under her chair. “Sorry. I’m not allowed to share that information.”

“Not allowed by who?”

“My boss. Oh, that reminds me. He asked me to text him when you woke up.” From the inner pocket of her blazer, she pulls out a phone with a pastel pink case. After she types out a quick message, she slips it back into the same pocket.

“Who’s your boss?” My breaths are short, and my chest feels tight. I’d like to think this is a dream, but it feels too real.

“You’ll meet him soon.”

Call it a gut instinct, but something tells me I don’t want to meet her boss. “How did I get here?”

“Two of our agents escorted you in. They sedated you in your sleep with a harmless injection. You’re waking up around the hour you’re supposed to, so that’s good.”

The tranquil way this girl says all that does nothing to silence the danger alarm blaring in my head. Also, how can she tell me so casually that I’ve been “sedated”? Is knocking people out and dragging them out of their home against their will a normal occurrence around here?

The baby growing inside me tells me Katie is anxious. It’s not the same anxiousness I feel. Mine is laced with a pounding fear while Katie’s is more like what I feel when I’m running a few minutes late for work.

I wish I knew how this baby is sensing other people’s emotions. It happened last night with Trey and now Katie. I’d like to say it’s a pregnancy thing, but I’m pretty sure it has more to do with Trey being from an alternate universe. I’d be a little more freaked out by it if I hadn’t woken up in a bed that doesn’t belong to me.

“Why was I kidnapped?”

“Whoa, hold on there,” Katie says with a hand out, palm forward. “Let’s not use such harsh words. We prefer to say that we’re borrowing you.”

Borrowing? She can’t be serious. “Borrowing usually means you have intentions to give it back.”

“Then yes, to your definition, you’ve been borrowed.”

I suppose that means they’re not planning to kill me. That’s good, right? “When do you people plan to return me?”

“That, I’m unsure of. It probably depends on how long it takes to figure you out. Anyway, I think that’s enough questions for now. My boss will be here soon, and I’ve gotta get you cleaned up. Your pajamas are dirty.”

I glance down, and she’s right. There’s literal dirt, all brown and crusty, across the bottoms of my pajama pants. I was not wearing these when I went to bed last night, which means someone dug through my drawers and dressed me before stealing me from my apartment. How did I get so dirty?

“I’ve picked out a new outfit for you. It’s on the counter next to a pair of flats.” Katie points toward the bathroom. The door sits ajar, giving me a view of the toilet. From the pocket of her dress pants, Katie produces a small metal key. “I’m going to uncuff you, but only if you promise not to hurt me. It’s my first day working an on-base mission, and I’d prefer it if everything goes smoothly.”

She’s slightly smaller than me, so I think I can take her, but I don’t know what or who lies beyond these bedroom walls. Also, I think her innocent face is just to fool people. I bet she knows karate or something.

“What if I don’t want to change my clothes?”

Katie shrugs. “You’re welcome to stay in your dirty pajamas, but I think you’ll be more comfortable not. If you really want your current outfit back, I’m happy to launder it for you first.”

It boggles my mind how she’s speaking to me so friendly. This isn’t how I imagine most kidnappers talk to the people they’ve kidnapped. “I’ll change my clothes.”

“Great, and you promise not to hurt me if I release you?”

Only if you promise not to hurt me. “Sure.”

Katie uncuffs me from the bars of the bed frame. “I’ll give you a few minutes to get cleaned up. Feel free to shower too. I’m not sure when you’ll get a chance to next.”

That doesn’t sound promising.

From the bathroom, I sense Katie’s anxiety growing. I can’t see her, but I know she’s pacing the bedroom. Somehow, this baby knows every emotion running through Katie. From how weak or strong it’s coming to me, I know her distance from me too. Since she’s the only person I can sense right now, I’m going to assume there’s no one else nearby. Either that, or this baby can only sense one person at a time.

I’m in the middle of showering the mysterious dirt off my feet when Katie knocks on the bathroom door, which does not have a lock. I checked.

“You almost done?”

“Almost.” I turn the shower off and step out to examine myself in the mirror. There’s no evidence that I’ve been hurt in any way. I suppose that’s a positive.

I come out wearing black flats, a white T-shirt that dwarfs me, and a pair of ugly orange shorts. I return to the bed where Katie, if that’s her real name, cuffs me back to the bed frame. I go willingly because I don’t know what else to do.

From watching true crime shows with Javina, I’ve learned that the victims who comply with their kidnappers’ demands are the ones with the highest percentage of making it out alive. So far, it doesn’t seem like Katie wants to harm me. I’m sure her boss does though.

Whatever happens, I have to get through this alive—for the baby. The first chance I see of a possible escape, I’m taking it.

“You’ve got really long hair.” Katie stands in front of me, stroking my hair. I lean backward, but she cups the back of my neck and forces me toward her. In one swift movement, she unhooks my necklace and tucks it into her bra.

“Hey, what are you?—”

“I’m just tying your hair up for you,” she says, giving me a firm shut up look.

I don’t know why, but I do. With the hair tie around her wrist, she pulls all of my long waves into a ponytail. As she finishes, she gently tugs on my hair, forcing my head back. My attention lands on a small security camera bolted to the ceiling behind her. Is she trying to tell me we’re being watched? Maybe she’s here against her will too.

“There!” Katie says, stepping back to admire her work. “Now you won’t have to worry about getting that long mane of yours tangled up during your stay.”

“My stay? What is this? A hotel?”

“It’s no five-star resort, but it’s not a crappy side-of-the-road Motel 6 either.”

“Then what is it?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she plants herself back onto the folding chair and returns her iPad to her lap. For a few minutes, she does stuff on the tablet in silence. I don’t say anything because I’m too busy scanning the room for possible exits.

No windows. No vents big enough for a person to climb through. There are two doors: the one to the bathroom, which I’ve already inspected for exits, and the other that Katie is so obviously guarding.

“There’s no way out,” she says, not looking up from the iPad. “You might as well stop searching. Despite what it looks like from inside this little bedroom, you’re not in a house. You’re in an underground facility surrounded by about two hundred trained agents. Beyond that is a forest that stretches as far as your eyes can see.”

That’s all great information to note to the police once I get out of here. If I ever get out of here. If what Katie’s saying is true, I don’t think I’ll see my home again until they want me to.

A steady vibration comes from Katie’s pocket. She pulls out her phone to read the screen. Wait. That’s not her phone. It’s mine!

“Your Grammy is calling. Is she expecting you or something?”

Last night, I called my grandma with the intention of telling her about the baby, but she was already asleep. Instead, I left her a voicemail saying I had something important to talk to her about. It must be morning now—not that I could peek out a window to be sure.

My phone stops vibrating. Seconds later, it buzzes with a text.

“What did she say?” I ask as Katie reads my phone screen.

“She said, ‘Hi, sweetie. Sorry, I was sleeping last night. You said you had something important to tell me? I’ll call again in a bit.’” Katie returns my device to her pocket. “Are you pretty close to your grandma?”

“Yeah.”

“So she’ll find it weird if you don’t call her back?”

“Definitely.”

With a long sigh, Katie drags out her pink phone again. She types something on it, then waits for a reply. It comes a few seconds later. “My boss says you need to call your grandma back and talk to her as if you weren’t here.”

“You mean, as if I’m not being held captive?”

“Exactly.”

“And if I refuse?”

She folds her hands together in her lap. “I think my boss would prefer it if you called.”

“Look, I don’t know who your boss is, but I’m assuming he’s the reason I was kidnapped, so I’m not going to do anything he wants me to. If he’s saying he wants me to call my grandma and tell her that nothing’s wrong, I’d rather jump into a pit of flesh-eating snakes.”

Katie blinks at me before returning her thumbs to her phone. After a moment, she straightens her back. “He’s almost here.”

Less than thirty seconds later, the door opens and in walks a tall man wearing a brown suit. The big gray mustache above his lips barely hides the scowl on his face and the emotions to match.

Three other men accompany him. Two step into the room and stand on opposite corners. The third guy stations himself outside the door as Katie shuts it.

I can sense them. Every single one of them. Katie, Mustache Man, his two bodyguards, and the one out in the hall. Turns out this baby can sense more than one person at a time. They just have to be close enough.

“You need to call your grandma back now.” As Mustache Man speaks, the long horizontal scar on the front of his neck moves up and down. Either he had surgery or someone tried to slit his throat. My bets are on the latter.

Something about his face makes me squint at him. He looks familiar. Like an actor I’ve seen in a movie. I can’t place him though.

I don’t respond to Mustache Man with words—only glares. He glares back with his piercing eyes. I want to know his name and everything about him so that when I leave here, I’ll have everything the police need to put him behind bars.

“Are you going to call your grandma back or not?”

Again, I remain silent. I’m not going to comply with his demands that easily. So much for everything I’ve learned from those true crime shows.

“Katie!” he shouts so loudly, she jumps. “Proceed with Plan B. He’s in the bathroom on the fourth floor. I’ll work on trying to convince her by the time you return with him.”

“Yes, sir.” With her iPad in hand, Katie retreats out of the room.

I almost shout at her to not leave me alone with this scary man, but she’s already gone. Strangely, without her, I feel more vulnerable.

Mustache Man approaches me. The closer he gets, the more his irritation twists into curiosity. He wants something from me. I can see it in the way his eyes are staring straight into my soul. What does he want?

“Leave us,” he says. Almost instantly, his two guards exit the room. They don’t go far though. I still feel their presence right outside the closed door.

Now that it’s just me and Mustache Man, he closes the distance between us in two strides. As he does, his blue eyes turn black like he’s being possessed by a demon. I crawl backward on the bed, screaming at the top of my lungs.

“Get away from me!”

“Hold still,” he says and reaches for my neck.

I swat him away with my free arm. “Don’t touch me.”

“I said hold still.” He grabs me by the neck and forces me to meet eyes with him. His eye color has returned to blue, but it’s not long before a cloud of black takes over his pupils again. It’s like something out of a horror movie.

“Let me go!” My words come out stifled from how solid his grip is around my throat. I claw at his fingers.

Surprisingly, he releases me and takes a step back. I cough and gasp for air as he runs a hand through the top of his salt-and-pepper hair.

His frustration radiates toward me from where he stands. “I don’t even know why I’m trying. Of course it won’t work.”

Whatever he was trying to do to me, I’m glad it didn’t work. Above all else, I’m glad he wasn’t trying to sexually assault me—although I have a feeling that whatever he was trying to do is much worse.

Something about him isn’t right, and it’s not just because his eyes can turn completely black. There’s something oddly familiar about him.

Minutes later, when someone bursts through the door shouting, “What the fuck is this?” it hits me.

This man looks like an older version of Trey Grant.