Authors: Christie Anderson
I fumbled through the glove box in search of a pen. To my surprise, just as I was reaching for my diary the tiny purple bulb illuminated. A grin spread across my face—it was as if he read my mind. I flipped the pages quickly and found the message:
WE NEED TO TALK. MEET ME AT WAHOO’S ON PLACENTIA AVE. ASAP.
It seemed like an odd place to meet. You would think he’d want some privacy to talk about such sensitive subjects. Maybe he thought taking me to a public place lowered the chance I would react badly again or make a scene.
Or maybe this was some sort of peace offering. I knew I mentioned somewhere in my diary that Wahoo’s was my favorite place to get tacos, so Rayne was sure to know about. He could be trying to do something nice to make me feel better.
I wrote back that I was on my way.
As I drove up outside the restaurant it was crowded with cars. I rolled slowly through the lot examining each parking spot in search of Rayne’s Range Rover. By the time I reached the back of the lot I still hadn’t spotted him anywhere. Maybe I beat him here by a few minutes.
I circled around to the front one more time, but still couldn’t find him. Was it possible he was driving a different car for some reason? I decided to park a little while and wait; if I didn’t see his car after a few more minutes I would go inside the restaurant to look for him.
There weren’t any open stalls near the entrance so I found a spot near the back. I glanced in the mirror and was suddenly glad Rayne wasn’t here yet. I looked awful. I rubbed away the smears in my makeup and found an elastic band to pull back my damp hair. The improvements were minimal, but at least it was better than before.
Several more minutes passed and still no sign of him; so I turned off my car to look for him inside. The rain had stopped, but the afternoon sky hovered dark and gloomy. I glanced around as I crossed the lot still hoping Rayne’s face might appear from the shadows.
I started passing through the tiny space between a parked truck and a large SUV. But suddenly my feet stopped. Something didn’t feel right. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I could sense something was wrong. A picture of Rayne’s face flashed through my mind. I reached in my pocket for my cell phone to call him, but my pocket was empty. My phone was in the car, sitting on the passenger seat. I turned quickly around to run back.
Then I saw them. Two wretched, black eyes blocked my path, only inches from mine. Every one of my muscles froze.
Adrenalin shot through my veins with fear as I recognized the face. This was the man Rayne warned me about; the one that grabbed my arm in front of Rayne’s house. I was told to run if I ever saw this man again.
I turned away instantly, attempting to flee, but the dark man pounced too fast, like a panther in the night.
His unrelenting arms clenched around my neck as I struggled to break loose. I tried to scream but nothing came out. There was no cry for help; I could barely breathe. My hands moved frantically. They fought for release from the pain, intense pain that swallowed my neck and pierced down my spine.
My struggle was useless. The world faded around me as energy drained from my limbs and my legs lost their strength to support me. My arms fell limp.
The panic faded to black.
My eyes flashed open in alarm, heart beating with rapid thumps. It wasn’t cold, but my body shivered. Where was I? How long was I unconscious? I could be half way across the world for all I knew.
My torso bolted upright from the mat where I lay, my neck snapping from side to side. I was in a small room, unfamiliar and empty. It felt strangely clean, almost to the point of being sterile. The walls were blank and gray. The few contents in the room were all made of shiny, silver metal aside from something in the corner that I assumed was a door.
The door looked almost like it was made of frosted glass, but I couldn’t see through it. I bounded from the bed to my feet and lunged towards it. My hands circled over the bumpy material searching for a way out. It was covered with a strange pattern, like a tangle of vines, but I couldn’t find any sort of button or handle to get it open.
I banged my fists furiously, wishing it would shatter in pieces. I kicked it again and again, grunting with each blow, but the surface remained unscathed.
I scoured the small room for something to hit it with or throw at it. There was nothing hard in sight, just a flimsy mattress and a roll of tissue. I yanked and kicked at the metal platform of the bed but it was immovable, bolted to the wall. The silver sink in the corner was just as sturdy. There weren’t even any visible pipes. It was pointless.
I ripped off my shoe in frustration and threw it at the door, then watched it bounce to the ground with a thud. My back slid down the wall to my feet, leaving my body slumped in a heap. Reality began to set in. I was trapped. I hid my face in my hands as tears poured out in streams.
Why? Why was I here? What could the black-eyed man possibly want from me?
There was a strange noise just a few feet away, like a loud puff of air. My head jerked up in alarm. The door to my prison glided open and disappeared into the side of the wall. The black-eyed man peered at me through the doorway. I scrambled sideways across the floor, trying to get as far away as possible.
The door closed at his back, his dead eyes smirking. “Even a bullet couldn’t break through that door,” he said. “But it was entertaining to watch you try.” He glanced up to a corner in the ceiling where a tiny black object was mounted. He must’ve been watching from a camera.
My arms shook at the sound of his voice. “Why am I here? What do you want?”
“What do I want?” He bared his teeth like a rabid dog. “I want my life back. That’s what I want.”
I stiffened. I couldn’t keep myself from shouting back in response. “What does that have to do with
me
?”
He pounced down on one knee, face inches from mine, muscles threatening. “
You
…are what we call a bargaining chip.”
I inched backward across the floor and whimpered. “But I don’t even know who you are.”
“That’s irrelevant,” he scoffed. “The fact is, there are important people who want to protect you, people with power; people…who can give me what I want.”
“People? What
people
?”
His course finger dragged across my cheek. “I won’t cloud your pretty head with details. Don’t worry; as long as they cooperate you won’t get hurt.”
I shoved his hand from my face. “What if I don’t want to cooperate?”
He sneered. “That’s not an option.” I flinched as his hands clamped around my shoulders, yanking me off the ground. He threw me on the bed, hands still tight around me. A flood of pain hit my head as it knocked against the wall.
“Get your hands off me,” I cried.
I plunged my foot towards his face but it never reached the target. His hand bolted to block its path. My leg twisted with pain in his grip sending me back to the ground. The wind knocked out of me as I hit the hard surface with a gasp.
His expression shifted, distracted by something. “What do we have here?” he said.
He crouched down beside me.
My lungs pulsed with shallow breaths as he moved close. His piercing stare sent my heartbeat into spasms. Black, dead-looking veins plagued the whites of his eyes like a web. His gaze was fixed on the crystal necklace dangling around my neck. It must’ve fallen out of my shirt when I hit the ground.
I bent my face to the side, away from his, as far as my neck would allow.
He took the crystal in his palm and examined it. I saw his wrist from the corner of my eye. He had a Watermark too. It was black, dead black—just like mine was again. Next to his mark there was a horrible scar on his wrist; a mass of mangled skin like a burn that never healed.
“A Water Briolette?” he said, surprised.
I inched backward with trembling arms until my head was pinned to the wall. There was nowhere left to go.
His stale breath lingered, uncomfortable on my face. “I have one of these too,” he said. “Only, you can’t see it. It’s not mounted on a pretty chain like yours. Mine is in
here
.” He pointed to his chest and tapped on it. “Surgically implanted inside my heart. Ingenious, don’t you think?”
I didn’t answer. I stared at him dumbfounded with fear.
His chuckle was sinister, almost insane. “But you know what they say…two is better than one.” He lifted the chain from my neck with an eerie smile, mocking me with his hollow, raven eyes.
Hot air hit my cheek as he laughed again. “You know, you shouldn’t stay away from the water too long. It can make someone like
us
go insane.” He motioned one finger in circles around his ear, darkly amused. I gawked at him, unable to move.
The chain dangled in the air as he admired his newly found prize. “I suppose this was a gift from your beloved Keeper,
Rayne
?” he sneered. He continued to reflect on the stone as it waved in the air. “I guess it’s no surprise; it
is
rather small and
pathetic
. My briolette is twice the size. This stone is barely large enough to cure a stuffy nose.”
His head jerked away from mine when the door to my cell suddenly opened. A boy about my age stood in the doorway. I saw an elevator door closing behind him from across a large room. His hair was so dark it was almost black. He had deep, glowing blue eyes, maybe even brighter than Rayne’s. Was he a Keeper?
“What’s
she
doing here?” the boy said.
The man sprung to his feet, still clutching my necklace in his fist. “There’s been a change of plans.” He took the chain and pulled it over his head. “An opportunity presented itself, so I took it.”
“This wasn’t part of the deal,” said the boy. “Don’t you think you’re taking things a little too far?”
“It’s not like I’m going to hurt her,” the man said. I felt the ache in my side and hoped I would never find out his definition of
hurt
.
The boy looked almost as scared of the man as I was. His tone was hesitant. “But kidnapping some innocent girl?”
“We needed leverage and now we have it. Case closed.”
“But…”
The man folded his arms to his chest. “If you have a better idea, by all means, please share…”
The boy shook his head, eyes on the floor.
The man placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I need to know I can count on you this time. Are you with me or not?”
“I’m with you,” the boy said weakly.
The man’s eyes squinted with intimidation. “I can’t hear you.”
Lines of frustration creased the boy’s face, his tone loud and insolent. “I said I’m
with
you.” He shoved the man’s hand off his shoulder, pushed passed him, and punched the wall as he stomped out of the room.
The man turned to me with an agitated expression. “I’ll have the boy bring you some food.” Then he turned his back and the door closed behind him.
I pried my body off the floor, holding my side to ease the pain. I slid onto the hard bed and tried to relax, hoping to relieve the ache in my head, and wondering where I could possibly be. What was the chance anyone knew where I was or how to find me?
From the small glances I caught through the door, I thought I might be in some kind of top-secret facility. The room outside mine was modern and filled with high-tech equipment and electronics. Was this an interrogation room in a spy prison? The security system seemed pretty advanced.
I wished I could design an escape plan, but the odds were mounted against me. I had no idea what I was dealing with here. That man rendered me unconscious in just seconds. He could have a whole arsenal of weapons waiting for me beyond these gray walls.
I couldn’t just sit here and do nothing though, could I?
There was a chance Rayne was coming to help me, but maybe not. He knew more about this black-eyed man than I did, but I didn’t know the extent of Rayne’s training or what resources he had at his disposal. I just didn’t know.
I mulled over the little information I had in my mind. I didn’t understand how I fit into the man’s plan. What did he mean he wanted his life back? He said if his demands were met then I wouldn’t get hurt. He told the boy they were going to use me as leverage.
As I thought back through what was said earlier, it became clear that the boy was the key. He was the weak link in their plan. He disapproved of the man’s tactics to bring me here. Maybe he even cared if I got hurt, like he actually had a conscience.
There was no way I was getting out of here using my own knowledge and strength. My only chance was to use the boy’s emotions to my advantage. When he showed up with the food, I would have to try to say something to get him to help me. Would it be best to outright ask him for help, to plead with him to let me go? Or would that be too easy for him to turn down now that he’d agreed to the man’s plan?
Did I need to be more subtle and manipulative? The man had some kind of authority over the boy. He talked down to him.
The whoosh of the glass door interrupted my thoughts. There would be no chance to finish planning. I was out of time. I jolted upright on the mattress at his approach. The boy’s blue eyes flickered in my direction for a brief moment then he cast them away. He set a bottle of water and a paper plate with a sandwich on the floor without speaking a word.
He turned his back to leave. I had to act quickly.
Thinking of smart or witty comments in the heat of the moment wasn’t one of my strengths. I was the type who thought of a great comeback twenty minutes after I needed one and the person it was meant for was already long gone.
“Thank you,” I said to his back, but he didn’t so much as flinch at my words. He brushed his fingers in a swirling motion over the pattern in the glass and the door slid open at his command.
In a panic I blurted out, “Why do you let him talk to you like that?”
The boy’s frame froze in the doorway.
He turned his head back over his shoulder. “Because I’m a screw up,” he muttered.
“I doubt that,” I said.
The boy turned to face me in the doorway, arms folded. “You don’t know me.”
He was right. I knew nothing about him, but he was a lot less intimidating than the black-eyed man was. I barely felt nervous with the boy in the room.
“Well, you don’t seem nearly as screwed up as that other guy,” I said.
He scowled. “He’s not screwed up. He’s just…well he’s been through a lot, okay?”
I shot my hands up defensively. “Okay, sorry. I just think you have to be pretty deranged to resort to kidnapping an innocent girl.” I was hoping to remind the boy that he agreed with me on the subject.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry but it’s out of my hands.” He turned away again.
“Wait, please,” I said. “You know this isn’t right. You’re the only one that can help me.”
The muscles stiffened under his tailored shirt as he paused in the doorway. For a moment I thought my words had made an impact; but he walked away, letting the door slide closed behind him.
It looked like I was on my own.
I jumped up from the bed and ran to the door. What was that thing he did with his fingers to open it? Even if I did get it open, the chance of making it out of this place on my own was small, but I had to try. I ran my fingers over the surface attempting to mimic the movements the boy had made. Nothing happened.
Maybe an hour had passed. I’d tried every different move I could think of, but the door wouldn’t budge. My fingers felt sore and my body was beginning to weaken. Who knew how long it had been since I last ate. I took the food from off the floor and rested on the bed.
After eating, I felt a small increase of energy, so I went back to work on the door. I thought there could be some kind of puzzle hidden in the pattern. I stared at every last swirl in examination but there was no making sense of it.
I thought it could require touching certain points at the same time or in a certain order. For hours I moved my hands and fingers over the raised, glass-like surface until my head throbbed.
I let my back fall to the bed with defeat. What was there left I could do except hope the boy changed his mind.
I said a silent prayer in my heart.
Please God, if you’re listening, please help me.
It was the only thing left in my power to do.
I stared at the ceiling. Something had to happen sometime, right? If they were using me as leverage then they must be contacting someone to make their demands. There had to be things going on outside these walls; some negotiations or threats being made. At some point someone who was on my side would know I was being held hostage. There was still a chance someone would come for me—Rayne would come for me. I closed my eyes and pictured his face. I imagined him smiling and encouraging me to be strong.
Even with my eyes closed I could sense the sudden shift in light. I opened my eyes with a start. The room was black. I couldn’t see my hand when I held it right up to my face. Without any warning the light was turned off in my cell. Was it night? My sense of time was all messed up. I was exhausted though; so tired I didn’t remember falling asleep.