Time Out (19 page)

But try telling that to my arms and legs as I slowly lost my strength and grip to hang on. The road zipped by underneath me as I groaned and grunted out of with a terrifying fear. The irony of the situation was not lost on me since this was how Cyrus had died. Maybe it was some kind of warped karma, but I think my sheer determination to not go out of this world the same way Cyrus had, kept me latched on long enough for the driver to make it to a nearby gas station.

I just had to hang on a little bit longer, I told myself as the man got out of the cab. After the cool air produced by the speeding truck whipped against my mostly naked body, it had made my teeth chatter so loudly I thought the man might have overheard me. I bit down on a loose cable to silence myself, and watched as his combat boots came to a stop where I was clinging to the truck for my life. I closed my eyes, too scared to watch what was going to happen
next,
when I heard his boots slowly take off down the length of the truck again.

I knew that I wasn’t going to have another opportunity to escape. Frozen and tired, I let my legs fell first, but they dropped like dead weights with a thud against the blacktop. I grimaced, but there was no going back now I realized as I unlatched my frozen grip on the cables next and nearly fell down on my back. I quickly reached an arm out to brace myself before I could and stumbled back up on my feet again. I turned just as fast as my tired legs would allow in the opposite direction of the man.

I didn’t have much steam left in me as I took off toward the front part of the truck for cover. I had reached the safety of the cab just in time to hear the man suddenly grunt. My heart spiked alive because I knew he had taken a look underneath the truck. Realizing that he had grown suspicious, I quickly came around the front of the truck when I heard his footsteps coming around back. When he finally rounded the opposite side of the truck that faced away from the front of the Exon gas station, I took off with one last burst of adrenaline for the entrance. 

A heavy-set woman behind the cashier counter took a moment to gawk at me dressed in only my underwear when I came skidding in. Thinking quickly, I ducked down behind the cover of a soda display.

“I just escaped and he wants to kill me.
Please
, call the cops,” I explained to the woman. “
Don’t
look,” I warned as she picked up her cell and made the call.

“You can hide in the office,” she waved me over and I quickly took off for the small room to the side of the counter. 

“He’s coming,” she hissed, and had to quickly hang up the call when I heard the sound of the doorbells jingle, announcing his entrance seconds later.

I didn’t think either one of us were breathing as I shrank back as far as I possibly could from the opening to the door. I said a silent prayer that I would go unnoticed, when I heard him gruffly say, “Here’s fifty for the gas.”

It seemed too quick, from when I heard the doorbells jingle again to when the cashier announced out loud, “He’s leaving.”

The ring of the phone caused us both to jump, before the cashier quickly answered, “Yes, I called, I have an emergency.”

“What’s your emergency?” The operator’s voice sparked to life when I realized she had put it on speaker. 

“I have a girl here who’s been abducted and possibly raped.”

“Are you’re calling form 96 Edgewood Avenue?” the operator asked.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“We have the police and ambulance on their way,” the operator quickly informed us. “Stay on the line till they get there.”

“We also have a possible threat to national security,” I added. “About a mile down the road from here is an abandoned warehouse armed with terrorists,” I sighed thinking to myself at least I think they were terrorists.

“Whom am I speaking with now?” the operator asked.

“Joie Hall, ma’am.”

“And how do you know this Ms. Hall?” the operator asked.

“Because I was the one who was abducted.”

Chapter
Thirteen

Apparently I had been held for the last past two days, but was obviously too drugged to know the difference. I never thought I’d owe Maria Rey a favor, but it was her who called the cops after I had been taken that day at the grocery store and the police had been searching for me ever since. It was all across the nightly news I noticed as I sat in the police station waiting to be questioned about what happened in the abandoned warehouse earlier tonight. They at least let me call my mom to tell her that I was okay, but once she started crying, I started crying until I was an emotional mess again.

It should have been nice to see a familiar face, but when Robert Vance smiled down at me with his perfect veneers, I wanted to groan. Hadn’t I been tortured enough for one night? I was told they had flown someone in from national security, but how small was the operation if I keep running into this schmuck.

“Why don’t you come back to the office with me, Joie?” He waved me back into a small office in the corner of the police station that had all the blinds drawn shut. The hospital had given me a set of scrubs to wear, but I was cold with my wet hair in an air conditioned room. So I was thankful when one of the officers gave me a dark grey blanket to wrap around myself until I could go home and get properly dressed.

“You gave everyone quite a scare back at the venue,” he informed me when I took the seat across from him at the table like I had a choice in the matter, but now that I thought about it I wondered how Hawkins was handling the news. The close call must have scared him senseless. 

“How did you manage to get away?” he asked, but when I could only shrug, he added, “Well you’re safe now, and that’s all that matters. I just wanted to let you to know that we checked that abandoned warehouse you mentioned to the police, but unfortunately they must have cleared out of the place when you escaped because we didn’t find anyone in it.”

“Did you find anything in the semi-trucks?” I asked, but before he could answer I added, “Because there had to have been at least three of them parked there at the loading dock.”

“No—you see, it used to be a factory, and those trucks were also abandoned.”

That didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me because they were usable, something I experienced firsthand, but then again what did I know? So I just nodded, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible so I could go home to see my mom.

“Why do you think the people there were terrorists?” he finally asked a relevant question.

“They knew what they were doing when they tortured me,” I nodded. “They had to be trained professionals.”

“How did they torture you?”

“Do I really have to explain that?” I asked as a person who was completely exhausted and didn’t want to relive the experience that only happened hours ago.

“We need to document everything we can for our records, but if you need to take a moment to gather your thoughts I understand. Here,” he pushed a bottle of water in my direction. “Maybe this will help.”

My eyes snapped up to his, and for a second we looked at each other. Did he know what happened to me or was he just being polite? “I doubt it,” I said flatly as I pushed the bottle back in his direction, since just the sight of it made me feel sick.

But before I could give it another thought he added, “Would you like a cup of coffee instead?”

“No,” I sighed, knowing that I must be overwhelmed for what I was imagining in my head. “They put a rag over my face,” I shuddered from the memory and continued to explain, “And poured water over my mouth until I felt like I was drowning.” 

“Water boarding,” he nodded. “It’s a type of torture terrorists use when they’re looking for information.  Do you know what they were looking for?”

“I don’t know…something about a microchip?” I felt my face pinch with the explanation.  

“A microchip?
What information is on the microchip?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then why did they think you had it?”

“They kept saying, ‘she said you took it’ but I had no clue what they were talking about.”

“Who’s she?”

“That I also don’t know.”

“Is there anything else that you want to tell me?”

“No.”

“Well if you can think of anything else, don’t hesitate to give me a call,” he then handed me his card. Vance seemed satisfied enough with what I had to say before he suddenly leaned back in his chair and got up.

“Thank you so much for your time, Joie, you’ve been very helpful.”

Chapter
Fourteen

The next morning, I was exhausted from lack of willful sleep, and I rolled over to find that my mom had spent the night with me. Although I wasn’t excited to be around water anytime soon, this kind of craziness was starting to lose its effect on me, unlike my mother who slept with me all night. I tried to slide out of her grip without stirring her, but when I moved my wrist that she was holding onto, her eyes flew open.

“Hey, ma, I’m going to make some coffee.” My mother jumped out of bed, ushering me to stay, and said she was going to make the crescent rolls with cinnamon and sugar that I have always loved. The stress of last night must have taken a toll on me because the last thing I wanted to do was eat, but she seemed determined to help me feel better in any way she could and I didn’t want to deny her of that as she got busy making my breakfast down in the kitchen. I turned on the television set overhead as my mom banged some pots and pans around downstairs. 

When I got a call from Hawkins minutes later, I let the call go through to voice mail. It was a too little late to say ‘gee Joie, I’m sorry’. By the seventh unopened text, I shut my phone off for good. He wasn’t going to fix this with a simple text or a phone call. I was determined, but I didn’t fully understand how determined
he
was about getting through to me until my mom got a phone call from the presidential hopeful Nicholas Johnson. The same Nicholas Johnson my mom adored. He was like her version of a rock star. 

“Nicholas Johnson called to ask how you were doing and to tell me that we are in his prayers,” my mom relayed the conversation, clearly excited when she came back into my room with a tray of food.

“That’s nice,” I put a smile on my face for her while thinking in the back of my mind, ‘
Damn you, Hawkins
.’ Though the small gesture did get me to turn my phone back on again and maybe even check a message or two.

“Joie, I’m worried about you and your mother’s safety.” I read the text and thought ‘so am I’, especially after the creepy interrogation with the terrorists. When I read the next text, explaining that he was already on his private jet and was touching down at the Pittsburgh Airport within the next hour, I bolted up right in my bed.

I didn’t know if I was quickly freaking out on the inside because I looked like crap dressed in an oversized green hoodie, or that it was because he might be here any moment now. Of course, I hated myself for the excitement I felt, because in my mind I should have just been pissed. How dare he think he can just show up at my door like nothing had happened between us?