Vanished (17 page)

He gestures for me to come stand beside him, “OTrin, first I’m going to show you the proper stance.”

              I put my palms over my ears and watch him take out one of his guns, hold it with two hands, spread his legs apart a little, and aim in the direction of the cans sitting on the ledge.  His muscles relax, he exhales and fires.  One of the cans goes flying over the edge of the balcony. 

              The others hear the shot and come outside.  The balcony becomes a full-blown target practice as we each take a turn shooting until we hit a can. Jasmine is the only one who doesn’t want to try.  

              It takes me seven tries to hit my first can.  After that, I hit two more without missing. I decide I like the way the cold metal feels in my hand and once I get used to the drumming in my ears, the vibration in my palms, and absorbing the recoil, my adrenaline kicks in and I really start  enjoying it.  

              We’re all laughing and smiling when we’re done and Logan wraps his arm around my shoulder and leads the way inside. 

              Zayn makes grilled cheese sandwiches for breakfast and it takes the rest of the morning to pack up all of our stuff.  While the boys load the cars, Madison helps me with my make-up again.  She spends the entire time talking about everything she read in a magazine article on pregnancy the night before and ranting over Collin insisting they name the baby Marshall, after Marshall Mathers.

When she’s done, I’m transformed and it’s time for us to leave.  I haven’t been away from Logan since the night he left to scout the cave and, even though I’ve only known him for a few short weeks, I feel anxious about leaving him.  He’s going to see his ex-girlfriend and I’m stuck spending the day with his
other
ex-girlfriend.  Even though I know finding Celia may get us closer to understanding what happened, I harbor a secret hope that he doesn’t.

              We have a brief moment alone while the couples are talking on the other side of the car. Logan reaches over and pulls a strand of hair out of my eyes. “What if you don’t show up at St. Raphael’s by dark?” I ask him, chewing my index-finger down to a nub. 

              We’ve discussed this already but I want to go over it one more time, plus what else are we supposed to do while the rest of them are kissing and hugging and saying goodbye?

              He drops his hand from my face and turns back to fiddle with something under the hood of the Expedition. “That’s not going to happen.” He says.

              I put my hand on the hood, “What if it does? Anything could happen.” I recognize the sound of nervousness in my voice and he must too because he turns around to look at me starts wiping grease of his hands with a rag.

His eyes are brilliant blue in the daylight and I can tell he hasn’t shaved in a few days because little blond and red hairs are starting to poke out all over his cheeks. 
Maybe he’s growing a beard
, I think and then I find myself wondering what it would be like to cup his furry face in my hands and an ache starts to build down deep inside me.  I cross my arms over my chest, looking down my antsy hands. I want to kiss him so bad and this might be my last chance.  He raises his eyebrows, “Are you worried about me Trin?”

I shake my head and bite my lip, “You said you don’t need looking after.”

“Did I say that?”

“Yep,” I pop the p, “Back in the cave.”

“Oh yeah, well that’s…” I don’t know what he was going to say because I interrupt him by vaulting towards him and wrapping my arms around his neck.  I knock the breath out of him and he freezes for a minute like he doesn’t know what to do, then I feel his arms wrap around my waist. He buries his face in my hair, his scruffy cheeks scraping against my skin. I push up on my tiptoe and he straightens pulling me upward and our lips touch.  This kiss is more urgent than our first kiss. I slide my hands down and feel his heart beating under my palm, as fast as mine own.  When we finally break apart, I hear cat-calls and whoops from the other side of the car.

Logan leans he head back a little so he can look down at me. “It’s about time you did that again,” he says with a grin.

“Next time it’s your turn.” I say.

“I think I can handle that,” his grin widens and he touches my cheek, “You’re blushing.”

I step back and roll my eyes at the others who are now trying to act like they aren’t watching us.  “Come back safe.” I tell him.

He releases my shirt, “You do the same.”

“Come on,” Madison yells from the back of the expedition and then I think I hear her mutter something like, “Or go get a room” under her breath.

I try to memorize every line of his face so I can put him in my sketchpad the next chance I get, just in case. 

__#__

              “So you and Logan…?” Zayn says and I watch him flip the turn signal on, out of habit, as he makes a left on Wornall. My eyes are locked on the black Expedition turning the same way behind us and I feel a stab of sadness as I watch Logan take a left on fifty third.

              Madison is watching for my answer and I don’t really want to talk about it in front of her or really at all, so I just shrug.  The truth is, I don’t really know what is going on between me and Logan.  We’ve never formally discussed our relationship but apparently I’m kissing him now, which we both seem to like, so where does that leave us?

Madison skillfully changes the subject and we discuss the possibilities of what we might find at the school. What if we’re walking into a trap? No. My dad’s guilty of negligence but he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, would he? I remember the words from the note
I hope you’ll accept his rotting corpse as my apology…I love you, sweetheart.
Why would he kill Judge
for me
just to turn around and betray me?

              It’s kind of surreal pulling up to St. Raphael’s in the middle of the day.  The parking lot is deserted.  I get out of the car and look up at the big stone and brick building that I spent years being tormented in.  There’s a tightening in my stomach but it’s not anything like the feeling I got yesterday walking up to my house.  “There was one thing I enjoyed about this whole situation,” Zayn says shutting his door behind him, “No more school, and now look where we are, back at the fucking school” He shakes his head and goes to the trunk to grab some flashlights.

              “At least we don’t have to learn anything.” Madison says cheerily, her wings spreading out behind her as she takes one of the flashlights from him and checks to make sure it works.

             
On the contrary
, I think,
I plan on learning a lot
.  “My problem wasn’t learning, it was the classes, the racism, and the elite mentality of the people that run this place.” Zayn says and hands us each a flashlight.  We won’t have to use these unless we really are going underground.  There’s enough light shining through the window for us to see inside during the day.

              The doors are locked so Zayn goes back to the car, grabs a crowbar and breaks the lock while Madison and I keep our eyes on a swivel just in case. “There,” he says, wiping sweat off his brow with his sleeve. He lifts his leg up and kicks the door open.  I brace myself for alarms, but then I remember the power is out. 

              Zayn goes in first.  Madison pulls a gun out of the back of her pants and holds it down at her side hunching over a bit.  Taking my cue from her, I pull my gun out too and savor the feeling of the metal in my palm, a feeling I am starting to associate with safety. 

              We enter the lobby area, then pass by the office and take the main corridor to the left toward the janitor’s closet.  The air is stuffy like someone needs to open a window. “Here it is,” Zayn says. “I’ll open it. You two point your guns in.”

              I almost giggle. It’s a silly precaution.  Like someone’s going to be hanging out in the broom closet waiting for us.  We jump anyways when he opens it and a couple of brooms and a mop handle come crashing down on the floor.  I crane my head to the right to look around the stack of cleaning supplies.  My heart sinks.  There’s nothing abnormal in the broom closet. “Is there another closet on the first floor?” I ask, dropping my gun back in the holster. 

              “No, but what’s that?” Madison says and points to a silver lever looking thing tucked behind a stack of yellow rubber gloves on the shelf to our right. I would have missed the lever entirely because I’m so short.

“I don’t know. Pull it,” I say.

“No way,” she counters, stepping back. “You pull it.”

“Girls,” Zayn says with a sigh. Then he reaches in front of us and yanks down on the lever. There’s the sound of something heavy, like stone grinding against stone and a dark hole opens up in the floor at the back of the closet.  

Madison starts to whistle the tune to the twilight zone and Zayn turns on his flashlight. 

Chapter Fourteen

Logan

“Get down,” I yell to them when we hear the gunshots. I drop onto my stomach and they follow suit.  I’m trying to see where the shots are coming from when a chunk of pavement the size of my fist explodes, a foot from my face, into white dust and a sharp pain slices through my forehead.

We get behind the nearest car and Collin points at the roof of a house across the street from us. Something hot and wet is dripping in my eyes. People start to matriculate out of the dark houses around our position training their weapons on us.  I notice only two of them actually have guns, an older guy, closest to me, and a kid. The rest are carrying bats, crowbars and a few of them have rocks.

The three of us stand up and I signal Collin to put down the crossbow. “We don’t want any trouble,” I yell, angling my gun downward toward the pavement, “We’re just looking for a friend,” I say, my eyes meeting the man closest to us.

“Who?” He says, stopping a foot away with the barrel of his hand-gun against my chest.

I feel Jasmine step up to my right and put her hand on my arm, pushing the gun even further down till it’s pointing at the pavement. “Celia Gerard. Please we just want to talk to Celia.” She says.

I see a flicker of recognition in the big man’s eyes. I don’t look away. Instead I glare right back at him. “
How
are you  here?” I ask. 

He narrows his eyes, takes another look at Collin then I see his eyes linger on Jasmine for a moment and he looks back at me, “Maybe I should be asking you the same thing.”

“We survived in a cave,” Jasmine offers and I hear her voice shaking, “Do you know Celia?”

His beady eyes dart over to her again, “I know her dad.”

I wonder why she’s still asking about Celia. I can get answers from any of them.  The longer we wait for those answers, the longer I’m away from Trin. I raise my right hand while he’s distracted looking at Jaz, and press the barrel to his temple, “Kneel,” I snarl.

“Logan,” Collin says, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“Kneel please?” I say and push the hammer back. It makes a loud clicking sound.

A tremor goes through the man’s body and I watch the courage drain from his eyes. He drops his gun and goes down to the pavement on his knees. There are shouts from people behind him but I ignore them, they don’t want me to shoot their leader, and this one’s obviously in charge. Not because of his wits but because of his size.  The rest of them are kids and there’s one old lady standing at the back.  I’m not trying to demean him but
he is
less of a threat when I’m looking down at him rather than up.

“Logan, what are you doing?” Jasmine squeaks, “What about Celia.”

“We don’t need Celia. He can tell us how they’re here just as well as she can.” I push the gun harder against the man’s bald head. “Talk.”

“We all live around here.  A week or so ago we woke up to this God-awful ringing sound. A bunch of us went outside. There was a crowd.” He lifts a shaky hand to point toward the Walnut Towers. “A couple of big black busses pulled up in front of the towers.  Guys in camo got out. Some of ‘em went into the towers and the others came over to us. Told us if we wanted to live through the night, we’d get our families and get on the buses.” He stops to catch his breath. I count to five, in my head, then press the gun harder against his temple.  He starts again, “So we got on the damn buses; me, my wife, my daughter and a whole bunch of other people.”

I hear commotion in the distance. “I got this” Collin says and, shouldering his crossbow, he moves out of my peripheral vision.

“Go on,” I growl at the kneeling man.

He swallows hard and I see spit forming in the corner’s of his mouth. “They made us wear blind-folds and drove us to some underground complex. No one would tell us anything. We must have gone down deep though because it took ten minutes from the top to where they unloaded us.  They passed out food rations, bottles of water, some clothes and blankets and told us to line up against a wall. I fell asleep so I don’t remember much after that.  The next morning they told us the threat was contained and took us back up. Dropped us off right there,” he indicates the towers again, “and left us.”