Through the Glass (A Storybook Novel 1)

by Kira Moericke

  “No, just stings.” He moves his hand away from my prying eyes and wipes the blood off on his jeans. “Come on, we have to get out of here.” He moves back to the window and starts ripping the rest of the boards down.

  Knowing that I won’t be able to rip any of the boards down, I move over to the cots where Lynne is sleeping. I sit down beside her and touch her shoulder carefully. “Lynne? Lynne, it’s time to wake up. Time to go see Mommy.”

  “Mommy?” she says in her sleep.

  “Come on.” I dig my hands underneath her and pick up her limp body.

  A board tumbles from Maxwell’s hand as he rips down another board. There is only one more board now that covers a fourth of the window.

  “Is she asleep?” He steals a quick glance at Lynne as he steps closer to the window to rip the final board down.

  “Yeah.” I hug Lynne close to me and bounce gently on the balls of my feet.

  Maxwell nods, presses his lips together, digs his fingers under the final board, and pulls. I can just hear the board groan in protest as the nails rip out of the wall. And just when he is down to one nail that he has to pull out, the light above us flickers out, casting the room in darkness.

  “What the hell?” Maxwell shouts.

  “Maxwell, what happened?” I know Maxwell is only a few feet away from me, but I still shoot glances around the blacked-out room.

  “They must have turned off the lights,” he replies in the dark.

  “Why?” Above us, a pair of feet clamber loudly against the floor, making my heartbeat spike.

  “I don’t know, but we have to get out of here.” With a grunt and another loud ripping sound, the board tumbles from Maxwell’s hand to the floor.

  “Where’s Connor?!” a loud, angry voice shouts from above. “He’s supposed to fucking help!”

  My gaze shoots up to the ceiling, my heart racing. “Maxwell?”

  In the darkness, there is a sound of shattering glass that jolts Lynne awake as Maxwell breaks the window with an object I can’t see in the dark.

  “Come on.” I feel Maxwell’s cold hand grab my arm as he roughly pulls me forward, almost making me drop Lynne. “Get Short Stuff out!”

  “But–”

  “Just do it! You go right after.”

  “What about you?” I turn around blindly to look in his direction.

  “I’ll be right after,” he assures me.

  With uneasiness, I turn back around to look out the window that seems to glow from the moonlight that shines from somewhere outside. I hoist Lynne up towards the window.

  “Sarwa?” The same amount of uneasiness that I feel displays in her voice.

  “Go, Lynne. Crawl through the window, okay? I’ll be right out there.” I hold her close to the window, even though my arms are getting sore from holding her up.

  It takes a moment for Lynne to summon up the courage before she reaches out, slipping her hands out through the window, and plants them firmly on the grass outside. With a little wiggle, she crawls from my hands, through the window, and outside.

  “Now your turn.” In the darkness, Maxwell grabs my legs, startling me, and hoists me up towards the window. He holds me up as I reach towards the window, grasping onto the cool, damp grass. I grip the strands of grass tightly and pull myself through the small 1.5’x2.5’ window. From the other side, Maxwell’s hand shift to my feet so he can push me the rest of the way out.

  Pulling and crawling my way forward, I slip through the window, out of Maxwell’s hands, and gather near my sister. I scramble to my feet, scooping up Lynne, who is sitting on the grass looking around dazed.

  The air is cold around us, chilling my hands and feet. It is a clear spring night with diamond-stars sprinkling the ink-black sky. There is a soft breeze that stirs my hair over my face, making it hard to see. I look around me, seeing far spans of emptiness with only a few houses dotting the distance here and there. About a quarter-mile north, there is a large cluster of trees, and to the east, there is a small cut-down corn field.

  “Damnit!” a voice shouts. It takes me a second to realize that it is the same voice as before. “The fucking kids are escaping!”

  “Maxwell!” I peer down towards the dark, little window where Maxwell should be. “Come on!”

  “Go!” His voice comes from deep inside the Salmon Room. “Go! And take Lynne with you!”

  “I can’t just leave you here!” I drop to my knees and place Lynne down. “Where are you?” I try to peer through the window, but it is too dark in the Salmon Room to see anything.

  “Here.” In the sudden darkness, Maxwell’s face pops into the moonlight right below the window.

  “What were you doing?” I ask as he jumps up, catching the ground with his hands. Reaching forward, I grab his right hand and start pulling him out. Seeing me do so, Lynne does the same with his other hand.

  “I had to grab something,” Maxwell says through clenched teeth. He wiggles, his hips just passing through the window, until he can get his legs underneath him.

  “You damn kids!” From the corner of the building, a large silhouette emerges.

  “Run!” Maxwell scrambles to his feet, scoops up Lynne with one hand, takes my hand in the other, and starts running.

  We run through the darkness towards the chopped-up field where I can see a shadow of a house on the other side. The stubby pieces of corn that had been chopped down and collected last fall stab at the soles of my feet as I run, trying to keep pace with Maxwell’s long strides. I can feel the burn in my throat and chest, but the man is too close behind us to slow down.

  “Come back here!” the man yells. I can hear his feet crunch against the corn crops.

  “Maxwell!” My voices comes out in strained gasps. “Where are we going?”

  “To that house!” He cocks his head forward, motioning to the house.

  I squint my eyes in the darkness and look forward towards the house that gets bigger and bigger the closer we get. It is a large, white farmhouse that looks more grayish-blue in the moonlight, with dark shingles and a wrap-around porch. Two vehicles are parked in the driveway, signaling that at least someone is home.

  “Just a little further!” Maxwell shouts as my feet start to slow down a little bit.

  “Sarwa!” In his arms, Lynne starts to cry.

  “Come back here!” The man sounds like he’s right behind us.

  Craning my head around, I glance over my shoulder and see that the man is close.

  “Sara!”

  I twist my head forward just as my foot stubs a big, chopped stalk, making me stumble. I fall forward, my grip slipping out from Maxwell’s as I land hard on my knees. Pain spirals through my foot, making me cry out.

  “Sara, get up!” Maxwell stops and starts tugging on my hand as his feet bounce back and forth ready to run. The man behind us is about four yards away.

  With pain shooting down my legs and my foot throbbing, I scramble back to my feet and start running again. My hair whips behind me as I force myself to run as fast as I can, matching Maxwell’s pace.

  We slice through the cool darkness, dodging the bigger stalks that prod out of the ground. We are so close to the house now.

  “Stop!” The man’s voice sounds distant now.

  As much as I want to look behind me, I don’t. Instead, I push forward, running out of the field and onto the plush green lawn. I follow Maxwell, who carries Lynne, who is still crying, across the gravel driveway, each stone stabbing painfully into my feet as we run for the porch. Reaching the porch, we take the stairs two-at-a-time, reaching the door in about three seconds.

  “Here.” Maxwell shoves Lynne into my arms and starts banging on the door with both fists. “Open up!”

  I clutch Lynne tightly, and look nervously around the yard. Long, misshaped shadows stretch across the lawn, but I can’t see any shadows that resemble a man. Still, the fear of the man jumping out at us makes me press close to Maxwell.

  “Open the damn door!” Maxwell pounds ha
rd against the door and almost hits the man when he and his wife open the door with tired, bleary eyes from being woken up in the middle of the night.

  “It’s the middle of the night,” the man grumbles. He frowns as his eyes sweep over us. “What do you want?”

  “You have to help us,” I rush before Maxwell has the chance to open his mouth. I cast a nervous glance around. “Please.” I look back towards the couple. “We’ve been abducted.”

  “Abducted?” The woman who stands beside the man, gasps. “By who?”

  “Please,” I clutch Lynne tighter, “you’ve got to help us. Someone is chasing us.”

  “Come in.” The woman pushes her husband aside, even though he shoots her a frown, and grabs my arm, pulling me in with Lynne. Maxwell follows shortly behind.

  “But Agnes,” the man protests.

  “Jim.” The woman shoots her husband a look.

  Inside the house, it is warm, but it has a stale air to it like all old houses have. No lights are on except for the kitchen light and the light above the stairs.

  “Do you have a phone that I may borrow?” Maxwell asks when Jim grouchily shuts the door behind him.

  “Yes, there is a rotary phone in the hallway,” Agnes replies, guiding me to the living room, where she flips on a few lights, casting a warm glow around the room.

  “Thank you.” Maxwell disappears down the hall with Jim lingering close by to keep an eye on him.

  “Please sit,” Agnes says as she seats herself into an old wooden rocker.

  “Thank you.” I sit down on a floral patterned couch and fix Lynne on my lap.

  “Is there anything I can do for you, dear?” Agnes asks with concern. “Can I get you something to drink? Eat?”

  “Water would be nice,” I say as Lynne curls into me. She isn’t crying anymore but is now doing this sloppy whimpering thing.

  “Of course.” Agnes stands up and disappears into the kitchen for a minute then returns with three glasses of water. She places them on the coffee table in front of me.

  “Thank you.” I reach forward and give Lynne a glass before taking a glass for myself. I drink almost all of it before I place it back on the table.

  “The police will be here soon,” Maxwell says, entering the room. He seats himself next to me.

  “That water is for you, dear,” Agnes says to Maxwell, motioning for the glass of water on the coffee table. Her chair gives off soft squeaking noises as she rocks.

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Maxwell grabs the glass and downs the water in what seems like three gulps before placing it back on the table.

  “Well, I think we should introduce ourselves.” I feel slightly rude for intruding on this couple’s night. “I’m Sara Hansen, and this is my sister, Lynne.” I bounce Lynne on my knee as she carefully sips her water.

  “And I’m Maxwell Grodin,” Maxwell says.

  “Oh!” Agnes exclaims, her papery hands fluttering up towards her face in shock. “I saw you three on the news.”

  “Really?”

  Agnes nods. “Where did you guys come from?”

  “From across the field,” I reply, taking Lynne’s glass and setting it next to mine.

  “From the abandoned warehouse?” A confused frown forms on Agnes’s aging face.

  “Abandoned?” That doesn’t make any sense. There had been people there.

  Agnes nods. “That warehouse has been abandoned for at least five years now.”

  “But that’s where we came from,” I say mostly to myself. Then I say to Agnes, “So you don’t remember anyone being there?”

  “No.” She shakes her head.

  I sigh, suddenly feeling tired. I don’t want to think any more about the warehouse that is not completely abandoned, the Salmon Room, or that we look like crap. I just want my mom and dad to be here, to feel their arms wrapped around me in their familiar hug. Leaning my head back, I close my eyes and doze into sleep.

  Lights and sirens wake me up a few minutes later. Then I hear pounding at the door and voices.

  “Is there a Miss Sara and Lynne Hansen here with a Mr. Grodin?” a deep voice asks when Jim opens the door.

  “Sara?! Lynne?!”

  I perk up when I realize I know that voice. Hopping off the couch with Lynne in my arms, I leave Maxwell behind, dash to the front door past an officer, who I accidently knock shoulders with, and see my mom, who already has tears in her eyes.

  “Mom! Dad!” I run down the porch stairs to where she is huddled next to Dad.

  “Sara! Thank God you are alright!” She starts crying as they fling their arms around me and Lynne. “We’re so sorry. So, so sorry.” Their arms tighten around us.

  “I’m going to kill the ones who did this to you two,” Dad says with tears brimming in his eyes.

  “Did–did they hurt you?” Mom asks through sobs.

  “No, Mom.” Uncontrollable tears roll down my cheeks.

  “Mommy!” Lynne flings her little arms around Mom’s neck as she moves out of my arms.

  “Baby!” She takes Lynne from me and squeezes her tight. She buries her runny nose between Lynne’s shoulder and jawline.

  “Miss Hansen?”

  With Dad’s hands resting on my shoulders, I turn around and see a police officer coming near.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Captain Chaster,” the officer greets, seriously. “I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” I swipe my runny nose and teary eyes then follow Captain Chaster away from my parents.

  “Can you tell me where you and Mr. Grodin came from?” he asks.

  “Over there,” I reply, pointing across the corn field to the shadow of the warehouse.

  “There?” he asks, seeing where I was pointing.

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s head out, men!” Captain Chaster bellows, turning away from me to start for the abandoned warehouse.

  “Wait!” I suddenly remember the piece of paper that I have tucked in my bra. I pull it out as Captain Chaster turns to me with an eyebrow raised. “Here.” I hand him the story page.

  “What’s this?” Captain Chaster asks, taking the paper from me.

  “It’s a piece of paper I found,” I reply. “It’s . . . It’s a story.”

  “A story?” He starts to read some of it.

  “It’s a story of us,” I say. “Maxwell and I . . . we think whoever abducted us kidnapped us to write about us.”

  “You think this is an inspiration abduction?” He glances away from the piece of paper to look at us.

  “I think so.”

  “Can you tell me where you found this so we can see if there are any more clues there?”

  “Of course.” I quickly tell him the directions on where I found the piece of paper.

  “Thank you, Miss Hansen.” He nods at me before heading to his car. “Let’s go!”

  “Do you want me to come?” a female officer asks, walking over to him.

  “No. I need you to stay here and talk to Miss Hansen and Mr. Grodin. See if you can get more information that will help us catch these guys.”

  “Yes, sir.” The female officer turns and heads towards me. “Hello, I’m Officer Jenkins. May I ask you a few questions about the abduction?”

  “Yeah.” I follow her into the house and back into the living room where I see Maxwell still sitting on the couch. Moving around the coffee table, I sit down beside him.

  “Okay.” Officer Jenkins sits on the rocker where Agnes had been just a few minutes ago and pulls out a pad and pen. “Where did you two come from?”

  “From across the field,” Maxwell replies.

  Officer Jenkins writes this down. “Did you see your abductor?”

  “No, but we know it’s a woman,” I say. “And she has two men for accomplices.”

  “Could you put a description with the two men?” the officer asks.

  “Well, we know that one of the men has dark hair, white shirt, and blue jeans. He was strong build
. Near forty?” I turn to Maxwell to see if I covered it all.

  He shakes his head, indicating that there is nothing else to say.

  “Do you remember the other two?” Officer Jenkins asks, looking from between Maxell and me.

  “No. It was too dark to see.” I press my lips together nervously as I turn back towards the officer.

  “Okay.” Officer Jenkins nods as she finishes scribbling on her notepad. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

  After fifteen minutes of trying to remember any identification, any memories, the trapping of the one man we remembered being called Connor, and explaining the disappearance of mystery girl, Willow, Officer Jenkins clicks her pen and stands up. “Thank you for your information. If there is anything else you can remember; please tell it to one of the officers.”

  “Of course.” I cross my arms over my chest.

  “Well, I’m going to take this information to the other officers and see what they think,” Officer Jenkins says. She gives us a curt nod before disappearing out of the room.

  “Sara?” Mom enters the room, tears still slipping down her face, with Lynne in her arms. She’s wearing her silky black pajamas with her navy-blue spring jacket on over. When she sees me, she smiles. “Oh, there you are.” She places Lynne on the floor and ignores her outstretched hands that she holds up to be held again.

  Maxwell and I both stand up at her presence.

  “Mom,” I say, moving closer to Maxwell, “this is Maxwell Grodin. He was with us through the whole thing. He’s the one who took care of us and got us out.”

  “Really?” I can hear the tears in my mom’s voice as she looks at Maxwell thankfully.

  “Hello, Mrs. Hansen,” Maxwell greets, holding out his hand.

  “Thank you!” Mom rushes over to him, ignoring his hand, and wraps her tiny arms around him in a big bear hug. “Thank you so much for keeping my babies safe!”

  “It was no problem,” Maxwell says, awkwardly wrapping his arms lightly around my mom.

  Pulling away, Mom grabs his hands and squeezes them.

  “Mom.” An embarrassed blush dashes across my face.

  “What?” She drops Maxwell’s hands and brushes away a few tears that have fallen on her cheeks. “I’m just showing my gratitude.”