Stolen Secret

by Piper Dow

  Matt had stopped trembling, though he remained tense, pressed up against Kelly's side. She hoped he was studying their captors as she had been, even if he didn't know there were two other people in the van with them. Kelly was sure that both Maria and the driver were Shades. She wondered if they were connected with the Shades that had abducted Samantha's roommate, Jill. They had to be. What were the chances there would be multiple groups of Shades abducting homeless people in the state? Because, although Jill hadn't been homeless, David had said most of the others they had rescued that night had been. She glanced down at her soaked jeans and boots. She could probably pass for homeless right now.

  She turned her head slightly, keeping the cat in sight, then darted a glance at Matt. He had a couple of days' worth of beard growth going and his clothes were soaked through like hers. Kelly had not been sure, when she'd bought him a coffee the couple of times she had seen him, if he was homeless or not. It wasn't like she could ask something like that, and he didn't have a sign saying "will work for food," or a cup on the ground, but she'd thought he might be. Why else would he be hanging around outside a gas station like he had been? So, had they targeted him?

  The van came to a stop. The driver pulled the keys from the ignition and pocketed them. He hopped out and walked around to the back of the van. The cat tensed, prepared to pounce. Kelly felt Matt tensing and willed him not to do anything stupid.

  The back door rattled, giving them just enough time to stop leaning on it before it opened.

  "Out. Let's be smart about this, huh? My friends are busy, and we don't have time for trouble." The driver stepped back to allow them to see past him. An even bigger cat than the one in the van with them was pacing in the driveway. A three-story building towered behind them, where a dark haired woman stood watching from under a wide portico, arms folded.

  Matt climbed out and reached back to help Kelly. She took his hand and squeezed it, hoping to reassure him. She didn't know why they had been abducted, but she didn't think they were going to be killed. At least, not right away. If they managed to keep their heads.

  The cat behind them jumped out of the van. Between the two cats and the driver, Kelly found herself herded with Matt along the side of the building to a side entrance. She followed the driver up the stone steps, glancing nervously around. Where on earth were they? She couldn't see lights from any other buildings nearby.

  Inside, they went through a short hallway with two arched doorways opposite each other and into a large room. The larger of the cats disappeared into one of the rooms, but Maria kept up a low growl behind them, ensuring that they kept up with the driver. Kelly peeked covertly into the other rooms they passed, trying to gauge what kind of place this was. Leather couches and a wide, low table were visible in front of a large television over a fireplace in a room near the front of the building.

  "Where did she come from?"

  The woman from under the portico strode into the room, addressing the driver. Her eyes swept over Kelly's bedraggled appearance dismissively. When her gaze lingered on Matt, Kelly thought she saw satisfaction in the slight curve to her lips before she returned her attention to the driver.

  "They were together. We didn't have time to wait around, I told you we needed to be back before Roger starts the next round. We'll make it work."

  "Good." A slow smile spread across her face. "This will fill the beds. I'm taking tomorrow off."

  The driver waved her away. "Yeah, Kenzi, you've got it coming. I'll be late tonight."

  "Yup, I know the drill." She turned sharply, her dark ponytail flying over her shoulder. There was a bounce to her step as she headed back the way she had come. "Hmm. Carl?" She paused at the arched doorway to the living room. "I think I'm going out. I might be late, too." She flashed him a dazzling smile before disappearing into the other room.

  The driver shook his head, pressing his lips together. He jabbed a button on the wall next to a large paneled door. An elevator? There was another, smaller door a short distance away on the same wall. Kelly took in the rest of the room. High ceilings, tiled floors, and elegant paneling on the walls. An office building? But no, not with that living room. This didn't strike her as anyone's home, either, though, unless it was a second home of an incredibly wealthy person.

  A chime sounded and Carl pulled the door open. Inside was a space that could hold Kelly's dining room table with chairs on either side. Carl stood back, holding the door, and motioned for Kelly and Matt to go inside. Kelly glanced at Matt and stilled. He had been afraid in the van, but there was a desperate look on his face now. She reached out for his hand again and squeezed. His eyes flew to her face. He seemed shocked to see her standing there.

  "Let's go, we don't have all day, here." At the sound of a new voice, Kelly whirled around.

  This man was older. His face was lined, with a close cropped beard and mustache with the reddish hue Kelly had learned to associate with blond men. He wore a black t-shirt with the same black cargo-style pants Carl had on. Kelly wondered if it was a uniform.

  "Yeah, Mike, I know," Carl said. "You," he tugged Kelly's arm, "and you, get in. Let's go." He shoved Matt's shoulder, but Matt was shaking his head, refusing to budge.

  "I don't know what you're deal is, but I'm not—"

  Kelly turned in time to see Mike's hand come down on Matt's head, the pistol he held making a sickening sound as it connected. She shrunk against the back wall of the elevator as Maria sprang through the door, snarling. Carl and Mike each grabbed a couple of Matt's limbs and dragged him into the elevator, then Carl closed the door and hit the button for the third floor.

  Chapter twenty-five

  Kelly closed her eyes, willing her stomach to stop its roiling. She tried to pray, but her brain could only shout incoherently for God to help her. She forced herself to focus on her breaths, slowing her inhales and exhales. She had been convinced in the van that the Shades were not going to kill them, but now she recognized that there was a lot they could do to hurt them without getting to that point.

  The elevator hitched to a stop and Kelly opened her eyes. The cat stood guard in front of her while the men grabbed Matt's body again. The door opened and a third man stood waiting. He moved back to allow everyone to exit the elevator, his brow furrowing when he saw Kelly. The cat circled Kelly, forcing her out of the elevator.

  "What happened?" He turned to Carl, his words clipped. "We just had this conversation. Our research is only as good as our methods, remember? We have protocols to follow!"

  "Yeah, well, they're both here now. Open the cage."

  Cursing, the man walked ahead of them, pulling his keys from his pocket and unlocking a cage door.

  Kelly's head swiveled as she tried to take in as much of the room as she could. It must be the attic floor of the house, as the edges of the ceilings on the sides of the room sloped toward the walls. It looked like it might have been one big, empty space at one time, but now there were three floor to ceiling kennel cages along one wall. One end of the room was filled with tables covered with lab equipment—Kelly recognized microscopes and test tubes, though there was plenty of equipment she couldn't identify.

  "In here!" Carl barked his directive at her. She turned from her perusal of the far end of the room to realize he wanted her to get into one of the cages. Matt's body was already laying on the floor inside.

  Her legs were filled with lead. Kelly's gaze darted back to the elevator, but the door had already slid closed. Fear clouded her thinking—if they locked her in a cage, there was no getting out—but look what they did to Matt when he refused to obey. She managed one step forward, then another.

  "Move it!" Mike grabbed her roughly and shoved her into the cage.

  Kelly stumbled over Matt's legs and landed on her knees next to his body. She heard the cage clang shut behind her. Scrambling away from the sides of the cage, she got her back against the solid wall of the house. The men had already walked away, approaching the last cage at the end of the room. They murmu
red together, but she couldn't hear, and didn't try.

  Kelly curled into the smallest ball she could, wrapping her arms tightly around her drawn up legs. She dropped her forehead to her knees. Tears leaked from under her lashes. What was she going to do? What were they going to do to her? The events of the night replayed in her mind in rapid speed. She panted, struggling to draw breath. She couldn't afford to panic.

  The men returned from the end of the room, ignoring Kelly. She waited until she was sure they had passed before lifting her head. Matt lay still on the floor. Was he dead? Oh, God, don't let him be dead.

  Kelly crept forward and touched his neck. It was still warm. She felt for his artery, trying to find his pulse. Where the heck was it? There, just under his jaw, was that a pulse? She blew a sigh of relief.

  She glanced around the cage. There was a deep metal shelf attached to one wall a couple of feet off the ground with a blanket folded at the end. She supposed that was meant to be a bed. She grabbed the blanket and eased it under Matt's head, wiping his wet hair from his forehead.

  "Hey!"

  Kelly's head jerked up at the urgent whisper. A wiry looking man in the cage next to the one she was in crouched next to the fence separating them. He kept his voice low, his eyes jumping from her to the men at the other end of the room and back again. "Here, let's see if we can get this blanket through. You want to get him dry and warm." He had twisted his thin blanket and was working one corner through a space between the bars of the wall separating them.

  Kelly waited until it was far enough through the fencing that she could grab it without being close enough to touch before reaching for the blanket. The man's unkempt hair stood up from his head in bushy clumps. His lined and grizzled face told her he was well along in age, and his sunken cheeks above his scruffy beard suggested he was missing most of his teeth. There were bruises up and down his forearms. He noticed her scrutiny. "You should have paid more attention out there." He gestured with his chin toward the window on the opposite wall. "I won't hurt you, but I can't say the same for them." His eyes returned to the far end of the room.

  Kelly tugged and twisted until the blanket passed through the wall. She spread it out over Matt's still form.

  The man moved back to the corner of his cage and Kelly noticed he was favoring one leg. She glanced through his cage into the last one in the row, the one the men had gone to look into. There was some kind of animal in that one. Kelly could see its fur covered form on the bed, but she couldn't tell what kind of animal it was.

  "His name used to be Fred," the wiry man murmured. "The stuff you're going to see in here, you're going to wish you paid more attention out there."

  Kelly swallowed. "What do you mean? Is that a dog?"

  The man grunted, glancing at the other end of the room again. "Ain't nothing what it seems in here."

  A groan from Matt captured her attention. She smoothed the hair off his face again. "Hey, wake up, Matt!" she whispered. "C'mon, wake up." She wasn't sure why, but she couldn't help thinking that the longer he stayed out, the more risk there was they had caused brain injury. Had she read that somewhere? She slapped his cheek lightly. "Matt, you really, really need to wake up!"

  She watched closely as his eyes moved behind his eyelids, then his eyelids fluttered momentarily before opening. He lay motionless for a moment before his gaze focused on Kelly, then traveled around the cage. He sat up in a rush, pushing Kelly away from him and trying to get to his feet. He wobbled, holding his head, and fell to his knees.

  Kelly scrambled away to give him some breathing room. His eyes darted wildly around the cage. Kelly heard a high pitched whining, and was surprised to realize it was coming from Matt.

  "Hey, hey, calm down," she found herself whispering. She reached out her hand, afraid to touch him but wanting to offer comfort.

  His head whipped around at her words and he threw up his hands, almost as though warding off a blow. Kelly shrank back against the wall again.

  "I'm not going to hurt you!"

  He squeezed his eyes shut and grabbed the sides of his head, sinking onto the floor. Kelly watched as he curled into himself, his whole body trembling. Was he having a seizure? Was this a reaction from being hit in the head?

  She watched him warily, too nervous to reach out to him in case she set him off again. All she knew about him was his name. He was homeless, but why? Was he mentally ill? Was he an addict? She thought about the first time she'd seen him, watching the people pumping gas into their cars. He hadn't looked like an addict, but what did she know? She was pretty sure addicts didn't all have the same "look." And here she was, locked in a cage with him.

  Chapter twenty-six

  Matt woke with a start. He lay where he was for a moment, trying to orient himself. The floor was hard underneath him, but it was warm. He ached, and his head throbbed. He cracked his eyes open just enough to peek through his lashes. It was dark, but there was low level light dispelling the darkness, like from an alarm clock. He closed his eyes again, trying to think.

  Where was he? He struggled to separate his waking world from his nightmare. In his nightmare, Lisa told him to hide. He knew it was a nightmare, because he remembered now that Lisa was gone. But the light—he didn't have an alarm clock in his camp. And he thought it was winter, but he was warm.

  He opened his eyes a little more than before. Even the faint glow from the electronics made his head hurt, and he thought he might be sick. As the thought came to him, his stomach churned and hurled. He barely had time to roll onto his side before he was gasping and choking on mouthfuls of bile.

  "Here, it's okay, you'll be okay," he heard a woman's voice murmur and felt a cloth wipe his face.

  "My head." He barely recognized his voice, cracked and croaky sounding.

  "I know. Try to stay calm. Can you move? Try to move over here, okay?" She was tugging him away from the pool of vomit. He tried to help her, but he couldn't make his body do what he wanted it to. "It's okay, that's enough, I guess."

  THE POUNDING BEHIND his eyes pierced Matt's head. He groaned and used one arm to block the light that penetrated his closed eyelids. What had happened to him? He couldn't remember his head ever hurting this bad.

  "Matt?" The voice was familiar, but he couldn't place it. His brain was sluggish, refusing to chug into action.

  "Matt, are you awake?" She was talking soft, but he could tell she was worried. "Matt?"

  "Mmm." He tried to answer her. His mouth felt thick and stuck together, like he'd been sleeping with his mouth open all night. He licked his lips and tried again. "What happened?"

  He heard rustling and felt her move next to his side. "Matt? I know your head hurts. I've tried to get them to get you some medicine, but," she sighed. "Do you remember anything? Do you remember the van? The big cat?"

  Images floated into Matt's mind. Rainy night. The blonde girl, soaking wet. A man with a gun. He tensed, his stomach clenching.

  "Breath, Matt. Nice and slow. Take it easy, okay? Please?" He heard her take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. "C'mon, Matt. Like this, do it with me, okay?"

  He tried to slow his panting, blowing out shakily.

  "That's it, take it slow. One of the guys hit you over the head. I think you might have a concussion—you were throwing up during the night."

  He licked his lips and tried again. "Where are we?"

  He felt her shift next to him. "I don't know."

  A chime from the other end of the room made him aware of other noises. He tried to open his eyes, blinking and wincing at the stabbing pains from the light. He was laying on the floor. The blonde was sitting next to him, one leg drawn up with her arms wrapped around her knee. Her attention was on the other end of the room.

  "They're bringing breakfast. It ain't the Ritz, but they don't skimp on the food here."

  Matt moved his head gingerly, trying to find the speaker behind him. A disheveled man sat on a metal bunk on the other side of a wall of bars. A fence? Matt's gaze traveled aro
und and he felt his stomach flutter again. He was in a cage. Like one of the dog kennels Tony had out back, except this one was made of metal bars instead of chain link. His eyes darted wildly. Was he here, Tony? His breath was coming in pants again, his pulse beating a staccato rhythm in his temples.

  "Matt?" Her blue eyes were filled with concern, her blond hair hanging on either side of her face as she leaned over him. "Matt, you have to breathe. C'mon, nice and slow again." He focused on her face—the blue eyes, the smudges of make-up under her lashes, the bruise spreading on one cheek. Her lips, pursed and blowing air, showing him how. He nodded shakily, drawing in an quivery breath.

  "Here, eat up!" He heard metal clink against metal, the sound harsh and ragged in his ears. Something was pushed across the floor and the metal clanged again.

  "Did you bring him medicine? I told you, he needs something for his head."

  "And I told you, Roger will be in at eight, and he'll take a look at him and decide what he needs then." The man's voice faded as he walked away.

  Matt closed his eyes against the too-bright room. "Oh, Matt, please, don't fall back asleep! Here, do you think you could drink some of this?" He heard the distress in her voice and forced his eyes open again. She held a cup of juice in her hand.

  He didn't want it, but the look in her eyes made him try. He struggled up onto one elbow and took the cup from her. He brought it to his lips, but there was something wrong. He frowned, pulling the cup away to look at it more closely. He had to blink a few times to bring the cup into focus. It looked okay, from what he could tell. He brought it to his mouth again, but couldn't do it.

  Matt had enough experience with tasting things that had gone past their expiration dates. For some things, that date was a suggestion. For other items, ignoring that date was a surefire way to, at best, a night filled with agony. He'd learned to follow his instincts when it came to food. He put the cup down.