The Hostage (17 page)

He took an extra moment to be sure of his aim and fired in Sarah’s direction.

She immediately jumped back and yelped.

“Damn, I’m a good shot,” he said to himself while picking at the scab on his head.

“Okay, okay,” Rod yelled. “Stop shooting.”

Elmore could barely hear
motherfucker
mumbled too.

Rod stepped in front of the stairs and glared up at him. Elmore held his weapon steady. Rod picked up the belt and turned around to walk to Drake. Elmore waited until Rod entered Drake’s cell, and then he pushed the remote button to lock it.

“Now, discard all your weapons. Toss them away from the cell or I will come down there and execute all of you.”

Metallic sounds clanged as various pieces of weaponry were tossed through the bars of Drake’s cell. He got to his feet, took another deep breath and started down the stairs. Three guns and two knives lay on the floor by the far wall. Elmore looked at Rod’s back as he tightened the belt above the wound on Drake’s leg.

He turned to see how Sarah was doing. A small line of blood trickled down her left arm.

“I barely hit you. Damn, thought I’d done worse. Oh well, that works. We’re doing panty pics later so I’ll get you a cloth so you can bathe.”

“You know,” Sarah said. “Your parents should have called you Waldo.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, wondering if he should smile or not.

“Because when you go missing it will be hilarious.”

“You sure have a big mouth. We’ll use that mouth later for a big job. Watch yourself, Sarah. Act accordingly or pay heavy consequences. You and I will either get along, or you’ll hate the last year of your life stuck down here waiting for me.”

Rod stood at Drake’s cell door.

“Pull up your pant legs around the ankles,” Elmore ordered.

Rod bent and did as he was told. Nothing there but socks that rose just above the ankle and then flesh.

“Good. I will assume that’s all of your weapons,” Elmore said, pointing at the floor. “If that isn’t, I don’t have to tell you how bad things will get.”

Rod nodded. “That’s it.”

“All your friends are dead, but you probably already know that. Now, you are all my prisoners. Tomorrow, after I find out whether anyone else is coming or not, I will execute Drake first, unless, of course, he does me the favor and dies through the night.”

He turned on his heels, grabbed all of Rod’s weapons, strode up the stairs, and locked the basement door, the whole time laughing maniacally.

Chapter 29

Rod had done everything to comfort Drake that he could. Drake now lay back on the mattress with Rod’s jacket as a pillow. The belt had been loosened and then tied up again to allow circulation to Drake’s lower leg, even though the blood loss had slowed some. Rod explained that the leg wound wasn’t enough to kill him. But he would need medical attention within a few days to avoid infection and to get the bullet out.

They had talked for hours. It was difficult to know what time it was in the dark. Sarah felt it had to be evening based on how tired she had gotten.

Her wound was so small it wouldn’t need stitches. She knew how lucky she had been, and as the day turned to what they thought was evening, she told them she’d rest while they stayed awake and then she would take her turn, staying up through the night while they slept.

Before she nodded off, Rod had apologized profusely at his failure in getting them out. He’d asked if Vivian had been in contact, and Sarah told him the truth. Vivian had been strangely quiet lately, but it might have been on account that Sarah hadn’t had anything to write with.

When Sarah woke, she listened but couldn’t hear anything from the other cell.

They must’ve fallen asleep
.

That made sense. Why sleep in shifts when they’d all wake fast enough if Elmore came down.

She lay in the dark trying her best to work on a plan of escape. She couldn’t believe what lay before her. How could she have gotten caught so easily again? And what about Drake? She’d finally found a man she could spend time with and now he’d been shot because of her.

After she saved his life at the ball game, she didn’t have to stay on the run with him.

What’s that all about?

Why did she? Was he rubbing off on her, or was she rubbing off on him?

She chastised herself. How could she be thinking about Drake at a time like that? She had to figure out a way to get them all out of the cages. She could ruminate all she wanted on relationships when she was safe outside Elmore’s prison.

The door upstairs opened slowly at that moment. Even though it was dark and her eyes wide, she saw nothing.

The single bulb dangling in front of her cell flicked on.

She closed her eyes and the plan hit her.

Perfect. It has to work.

She monitored Elmore’s movements by the noises he made. He moved with stealth so as to not wake anyone, which made it difficult for her to determine exactly where he was at any given time. For her plan to work, she had to be ready and that meant she had to know where he was.

A subtle scrape of his foot on the floor. A soft crinkle of his shirt. Then nothing.

She lay as still as she could, making sure he would be convinced she was still asleep.

He cleared his throat. He stood close, but not inside her cell yet. Her cell door hadn’t unlocked.

It’ll come at any moment. Just wait. It’ll come.

A match scraped across the striker.

Perfect. Here we go.

It landed on her leg and fizzled out. She ignored the pain and didn’t flinch or move. She couldn’t afford to. This situation was too important. She’d only get one crack at it.

He struck more matches. It sounded like more than one. She braced for the burn.

It almost made her cry out, but she cringed on the inside and counted to five in her head. She made it without showing him any sign that she was awake.

Her heart beat fast, but she forced her breathing to look long and deep.

“Sarah?” Elmore whispered. “Wake up or I’ll keep doing this.”

That’s what I’m hoping for, idiot.

There was a certain agitation in his voice. Probably not many captives before her defied him like she did. He wouldn’t like it. He only wanted compliance.

Well, fuck him.

Another match struck, then a flare-up.

This is it. He’s lit a whole book of matches.

He tossed it and she snapped awake, slid off the mattress and let the burning book of matches fall to the bed. Then she grabbed the small fire and brought it down to the edge of the mattress.

“What are you doing?” Elmore screamed.

“Burning your house down. It’s over. Everything you own will be gone.”

“Noooo,” he screamed.

“Too late. We’re all going to die here — so I’ll burn your house to the ground with a huff and a puff because I’m your big bad wolf.”

Sarah blew out softly on the small flames. The mattress was catching, flames licking up the side.

“Stop that! Stop it now or I will shoot you in the face.”

“Go ahead. Better than you touching me.” Sarah crossed her arms and smiled. She knew the smug attitude and the
I don’t care if I die
facade would drive him crazy.

“Sarah, no. Stop it. We can talk about this.”

The side of the mattress, about a foot in height, was aflame and growing. Sarah grabbed the edge of the mattress and lifted, leaned it against the wall so the rising flames would have the whole length to consume. That’s when the lock to her cell door clicked.

Perfect. Here we go.

Elmore headed for the burning bed to stamp out the flames. He didn’t get four feet into the cell before Sarah dove at him like tackling a quarterback. She flailed at him, arms pinwheeling, feet kicking.

They rolled, a tangle of limbs. Drake and Rod screamed at her.

She tried for his throat but he smacked her hand away. With all her weight leaning forward, she attempted to push her elbow down onto his neck.

The burning mattress had become so hot, she had to pull her face back. Elmore caught her shift in weight and pushed in that direction, knocking her off. She rolled onto the floor and smacked the cement wall.

He pulled a syringe out of his side pocket. He lunged at her and shoved the needle toward her thigh, but she pushed off the wall, rolled toward his feet, and missed the tip of the needle by millimeters.

She hit his feet hard, pushed up off the floor and drove a solid fist into his groin. He yelped out and dropped the needle.

She brought her fist down, braced herself and punched him again, this time much harder as she had better balance.

Elmore grabbed for his crotch and stared down at her, his eyes wide. He coughed as smoke wafted past his head.

Sarah tried to get to her feet, but with whatever reserve strength he had, he grabbed at her ankles. She fell back to the floor beside the mattress, now mostly engulfed.

She tried to crawl away, but he stayed attached. He crawled on top of her legs. She tried to kick at him, but his weight held her legs hostage.

He produced the needle, still intact.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she yelled and reached beside her to the burning mattress. She had crawled far enough away from the leading edge of the flames that when she pulled hard, the mattress fell out flat, across Elmore’s back.

Instantly he let her go of her lower legs as he tried to spin and lift the burning bed off his back. He screamed an inhuman wail as Sarah got up and ran out of the cell, closing the door behind her.

I’m out!

Elmore had managed to slide out from under the mattress, but as it had burned, the small bed had begun to fall apart in chunks. He could no longer push it off as a single unit. He got to his knees and grabbed at the burning pieces that still clung to him.

His breath came in ragged gasps and his eyes watered like he cried. His face shined red where the fire had kissed his skin, small bits of black in other areas.

Sarah wasted no time. She ran at Drake and Rod’s cell and tried their door. It was locked.

Of course.

“Open this door,” she shouted at Elmore.

“Never.”

His voice grated on her. He wasn’t burned bad, but what had happened would leave marks. It was bad enough to need salve.

She stepped back to her cell door. “The keys,” she said, her hand extended through the bars.

He reached behind him, nodded slightly, panted and moved slowly in obvious pain. When his hand came around, it didn’t hold the keys.

He had a gun. And now he had a smile on his hideous face.

“Sarah!” Drake yelled.

Sarah reacted. Elmore fired, but she’d already hit the stairs running. He fired again and again as she took the stairs two at a time.

Luckily he left the door unlocked at the top of the stairs.

Probably because he came down so quietly earlier he didn’t want to wake us with locking it.

Drake still yelled for her to run. At the top of the stairs, she flicked on all the basement lights.

Elmore was already out of her cell. He pointed his weapon at Drake’s cell door.

Rod dove in front of Drake as the gun fired.

Self-preservation stopped Sarah from running down the stairs and ripping Elmore apart with her hands. He had a gun, and she would have a bullet in the face before she reached him.

Elmore pulled on the trigger of an empty gun and started to reload.

In that moment, she thanked Rod under her breath for saving Drake. But now it was her turn to save him. She never thought in a million years she would call the police to help Rod Howley, but that was what she had to do.

As she ran out the front door of Elmore’s plush home and hit the front driveway, she shouted, “Vivian, where are you when I need you the most?”

Chapter 30

Elmore fought to stay on his feet. The pain was more than anything he’d felt before. His mind raced, his heart beat faster. He had to think. He had to move. Things had gone wrong. It was all crashing down.

Why did I enter her cell?

He couldn’t figure out what possessed him to walk into her cell. He had weapons. He could’ve shot her with the tranquilizer gun. The fire wouldn’t have done too much damage against the solid cement wall.

He just couldn’t deal with someone wrecking his property. The fact that Sarah wanted to burn his property had made him angry. He knew, under the influence of rage, he didn’t always do the right things and that’s what Sarah had counted on. He knew now that was what she had wanted from the start. To lure him into her cell. He had been wrong with her. He couldn’t use strong women as hostages. He only had use for the weak. From that moment on, he committed to himself that he would only kidnap young, weak girls.