Grayson (This is Our Life Book 1)

by Adams, F. G.

  “Let’s change and get our asses going,” Savannah puffs. She’s not exactly thrilled to run ten miles in the heat, but hey, it’s our thang.

  I’ve got my tankini sports bra and running shorts on and I’m ready to tackle the heat. Savannah is mumbling about her shift being so long. She’s not in a good frame of mind. She’s been distracted lately, and I’m really concerned about her. I know it has something to do with a guy she’s been seeing, but she won’t say a damn thing to me. We get our survival packs aka souped-up fanny packs, loop them around our waists, and head out.

  The sun is beginning its journey, setting in the distance. There’s no breeze and the heat is stifling as we start. We circle TMC and pass several soldiers lingering about, their gazes traveling our path. Our rhythm is synced as we pound the pavement. We are almost to the end of the street when a white van pulls up to the curb in front of us. We make to go around, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. I’m almost to the passenger door when an arm grabs my waist and yanks me backwards. I start to scream when a hand clasps over my mouth. There is something on the cloth that is slammed over my mouth and nose. I can’t breathe as darkness descends. My last thought is of Grayson.

  I’m groggy as my mind begins to clear. I try to move my right arm and can’t. What the hell? I try to open my eyes, but am not able to. My mind’s alert now as I remember everything. From what I can discern, both my arms and legs are strapped to a chair. My neck is aching, and I know instantly I’ve been in this position too long. My eyes are covered, so I focus on using my other senses. That’s when I hear feminine sniffling and whimpers. I try not to make a noise alerting the person. Where am I?

  “Thank god you’re finally awake. We’re in a shit load of trouble, Ella bug.”

  What in the world? Savannah? I shake my head, trying to communicate with her, but I can’t, there’s something stuck in my mouth and all I can get out is a muffled “help me” which of course is nothing but garbled noises.

  “I know you don’t understand, but the people that took us are bad, Ella, really bad.” She’s whispering the last part, and I know something horrible is about to take place.

  “Whatever happens, don’t give up. Remember what we were taught in training. We are survivors and we’ll get out of here one way or the other. We just have to survive. That’s it, sugar. Got it? I’m with ya, no matter what…” Savannah is interrupted when we hear the sound of a door opening and closing.

  A familiar voice comments, “Has our special guest decided to join us yet?”

  “Keep your fuckin’ hands away from her, you pig!” Savannah threatens.

  That’s when I feel someone squeeze my breast hard. It hurts, and I try again to scream. As quickly as it started, it ends.

  “We are saving you for later, little one,” the deep voice promises. “As for your friend, the boys have sampled her already and want more.”

  Oh god, no! Not my Vanna. Why is this happening to us? I hear a struggle and Savannah’s piercing cry echoing down the hall as the door slams shut.

  My mind’s having problems comprehending the situation we are in. Weren’t we just running a while ago? Laughing and joking about bad hair days and dreading running in the heat? How did we get here? The presence I’ve been feeling had subsided over the past few weeks; not sure if that’s because of Grayson or what, but I let my guard down. Now Savannah is paying the price. Before long, Savannah’s screams go silent. Oh please, God, let her be alright. Please save us.

  The next time the door opens, I only hear the scuffing of boots, a thump from something hitting the floor, and then the door closing again. I wish I could see what’s going on. The darkness is beginning to drive me crazy.

  As if someone could read my mind, the bindings around my eyes are unraveling. I blink, trying to focus. I’m seeing spots. The room is dimly lit, and there are shadows cast by the lantern in the far corner. The door slams, and I jump, forgetting someone was in the room with me. I look around and notice whoever it was has left. My heart is pounding with terror when my eyes land on the most heinous sight.

  Savannah, my precious friend, has been beaten so badly I can barely make out her face. She’s lying on the floor, naked. There are so many cuts and bruises, I’m not sure if she’s still breathing. Oh god! I moan between sobbing and thrashing my body back and forth, trying to reach her.

  I begin rocking the chair from side to side. It’s not attached to the floor and moves easily once I get it tilting. I’ve got to reach her. I throw all my weight on the next rock, and the chair gives. I’m crashing onto my side to the unforgiving concrete slab below. The air is knocked from my body temporarily. I had forgotten about the gag, and it takes longer for air to fill my lungs.

  When I’m finally able to catch my breath, I crawl from one side of the room to where they placed her. I inch closer to her and notice her chest is moving up and down. Thank god! She’s alive. My arms and legs bleed as I continue to slowly move toward Savannah. The little bit of clothing I was wearing to jog in does nothing to protect me from the rough bumps and edges of the concrete flooring. I’m getting closer to her.

  I’m not sure how much time passes before I tire and stop to rest for a moment. She’s about two feet from my face. She’s still breathing, but she hasn’t made a sound or moved. I study her, trying to wear my nurse’s hat to come up with a viable diagnosis. Her lips are split and swollen. Someone has used a knife to cut from her clavicle to her pubic bone and then parallel along her chest, giving the effect of a giant cross. There is blood seeping from the long, jagged wound. It doesn’t look deep, but I know it has to be painful. There are other smaller knife wounds on her arms and legs. My biggest concern is the internal injuries she’s probably sustained.

  I need to help fix her injuries, but I can’t touch her. I feel so helpless. I’m not sure how long we lie side by side, not touching. But I keep my eyes on her chest, watching her breathe. As long as she’s breathing, we still have a chance.

  Ella’s gone. Someone took my Bluebird. Styx had been watching Ella from a distance as a van pulled up and took both Ella and Savannah. He tried to get to them, but the culprits had perfected the abduction. In and out within seconds. They were definitely professionals. Security had slacked the past few weeks, thinking the threat had subsided.

  “What’ve we learned?”

  I stare at the table in front of me. My team is assembled and searching every nook and cranny for a link to finding the girls. It’s been two days since they were abducted. Forty-eight hours and no contact from their captors. I know the longer we don’t hear anything, the bleaker it is for them and their future.

  “The license plate on the van was stolen. Another dead end,” Styx fumes as he stands and prowls the length of the table. “The van was dumped about forty miles due south. They must have switched vehicles.”

  “There was blood on the floor in the rear,” Doc chimes in. “Not much, I’m guessing from a deep scratch. We’re running it now in the database to see if we get a DNA match.”

  Beauty shifts in his chair, “I’ve spoken to my snitches and nobody’s talkin’. Not sure if they’re scared or what.”

  “I’ve got an algorithm running now on satellite feed for that area and time of day of abduction. If it caught any of it, we will know in the next thirty,” Radar mumbles and continues typing on his laptop.

  “Whoever it was knew their schedule. Means they’ve been watching them for a while now,” Johnny mentions.

  A cell phone goes off, and everyone looks at Beauty as he holds his hand up for silence. “Davis speaking,” Beauty answers, and I motion for him to put the phone on speaker.

  When he does, my world tilts when I hear her voice. “They want a meeting with Captain Grayson Blackwood. If anyone else comes…” Ella’s voice breaks as she starts sobbing, “They’ll finish what they started and...and kill us both.”

  She’s cut off from saying anything else, and a disguised voice continues, “Further directions will be deliver
ed to you soon. Don’t keep us waiting, Captain.”

  Then the line goes dead and I’m left feeling more desperate than any other moment in my life.

  I’m not sure how long we’ve been here. It seems like forever. Savannah still hasn’t woken up and no one has come back in our room. I’m aching all over. Hunger and thirst have kicked in, and I want to cry, but there are no tears left. I know Grayson is looking for me. He’s had Pete and Johnny trailing me for weeks. We just have to hold on until they find us. I know if anyone can, it will be Grayson.

  The lock on the door is moved, and the knob turns as it slowly opens. A young native boy enters the room with his eyes downcast, carrying a pitcher of water. He places it in front of me and slowly begins to remove my gag. I have cotton mouth and desperately want water. My throat aches as I try to talk, but the boy shakes his head no, silently pleading with his eyes for me to remain quiet. He lifts my head slowly and pours a small amount of liquid into my parched mouth. I choke as the cool water slides down my throat and down the sides of my cheeks. We repeat this once more, and then he stands and walks out the door.

  “Wait. Please don’t leave,” I beg as the door shuts and the lock is bolted into place again. I want to cry, but I know it won’t change anything.

  “Vanna. Vanna. Please wake up. Please talk to me,” I plead, but she doesn’t respond. She just lies there, occasionally moaning when she tries to move. It’s heart-wrenching, watching my best friend suffer this way.

  Sometime later, the door is opened and a man wearing a turban covering his face, in order for me not to see his face I would guess, walks in. He motions behind him, and two men similarly dressed but without their faces covered walk in and make their way toward me.

  “Stay away,” I scream. “Don’t touch me.” I try to move, but I’m still bound to the chair.

  “Hush now, little one. We need you to give someone a message for us,” says the larger, disguised man. My chair is set right, and a card is shoved in front of my face. “You will read this now,” he commands.

  I don’t resist and read into a recorder what it says. The tears I thought were dried up start again. I’m petrified as I whisper their demands. I understand their meaning immediately. They want Grayson, and if he doesn’t come, it will be bad. They’re going to kill us both.

  The two men exit the room, while the one who causes my skin to crawl remains. I’m not stupid. I watch him from my peripheral vision as he moves around the room. He’s large, bulky in stature. He has piercing eyes. I can’t help but feel as if I know him. I’m just too tired, hurt, and scared to figure out how. It isn’t long before he squats in front of me and his finger trails from my knee toward my upper thigh. I squirm, but can’t evade his touch.

  “You’re very beautiful. I wonder if you taste as sweet as you look.” He leans toward my ear and whispers, “He won’t be able to save you. I’ll make sure of that, little one. You’ll be my new pet. I don’t think I’d get bored with you for a long while.”

  I remain silent, because I know his type. They antagonize you until you snap and then pounce. They want provocation. They thrive on it. He slowly turns and heads for the door, but before he’s gone, he leaves with one more promise, “Your friend will die slowly while you watch, tied up, unable to help. This will ensure your obedience in the future.” And then he’s gone.

  I’m left wondering how we are ever going to get out of this mess, praying that Grayson finds us soon. Savannah’s life is hanging in the balance. She needs medical care and if I’m to believe the dark voice, she’s not going to get it unless we’re found or we escape. I glance around the windowless room and know the latter won’t happen unless I can get myself released from the bindings holding me.

  I’m leaving the compound building we’ve used as our central hub the past few days when Michael approaches me. He’s been hot on my tail for the past few weeks, but I’ve been able to avoid him. After the mess hall incident, I’ve wanted to put my fist through his face. He’s had what’s mine, and I’m not good with that one bit. I’m not worried he could hurt me. I can hold my own, but I don’t want to see that look on my girl’s face again, so whatever I have to do, I’m gonna do it.

  “Captain Blackwood!” he yells.

  Fuck no! Not gonna deal with him now. I turn and head in the opposite direction, ignoring his shouts. As fate has so cruelly done to me many times in my life, I only make it to the corner before he catches my arm, stopping my forward progress and yanking me to face him.

  “Get your damn hands off me now, Lieutenant, or we’re gonna have a problem regardless of my best intentions,” I calmly relay with a promise of retribution.

  He shoves me back and sneers, “Need to talk to you, Captain, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  I continue to stare at him, wondering what the hell my Bluebird ever saw in him. He’s the complete opposite of me and obviously doesn’t know when to take a hint.

  “Not today, Doctor. I’m late for a briefing with the General,” I try once again to evade him and start hedging closer to escaping the fiasco that’s about to transpire. When his next comment sends me over the edge.

  “Just thought you might want my intel regarding the girls, sir,” he drawls so casually you would think he was discussing the weather.

  I stop in my tracks. My face masks the fury I’m about to unleash. With fire in my eyes, I grab his shirt and pull him forward. He’s startled by my actions. I’ve gained the upper hand needed to slam his chest with my fists as I bring his face closer to mine.

  “What the fuck did you say? If you know something and haven’t told me out of jealousy, I will kill you, motherfucker,” I promise.

  He tries to back away, but my hold is firm and I’m not budging until he answers. His body language emits confrontation. He wants a piece of me, and I’m waiting for his next move when he looks down to where my hands are holding him and takes a hold of my wrists, applying a subtle pressure that causes my fingers to slip away from his shirt.

  “She’s mine too. I care more about her than you will ever know,” he wearily states and releases a sigh of pent-up frustration. “Look, we can settle our dispute later. Right now, she’s out there and I need her safe. That’s your job, Captain. You need to bring her back.”

  I’ve calmed some, realizing the sincerity coming from him about the situation and knowing now isn’t the time. Finding Ella is, and I need to focus on her whereabouts, not worry about the past I have no control over.

  “It’s been a long two days with little sleep. Chasing leads that go nowhere...” That’s all he’s getting from me during our temporary truce. I don’t apologize to anyone.

  He shrugs, “My shift ended right before the girls left for their run. I took the back exit and saw your second get into a white van. Might not mean anything, but I heard about the vehicle used to take the girls description earlier and thought every little bit could help.” He salutes me and without another word, turns and walks away.

  Without a moment to spare, I run back to the compound, looking for Beauty. My mind is running every possible scenario as to why he would be involved. How could someone I’ve known for years do something like this, and what are his motives? As I enter the conference room, everyone is still sitting around but him.

  “Where’s Beauty?”

  “Said he was following up on a lead and left right after you did,” Johnny replies.

  “No way!” This can’t be happening. All eyes turn and focus on me. “Radar, pull up Beauty’s phone tracker. I wanna know where he is.”

  “Sure thing, boss man.” Radar continues typing, “Hmmm something’s off. That’s not...what the hell? His tracker says he’s sitting in this conference room.”

  Everyone looks at where Beauty had been sitting earlier as I walk to the seat. Sure enough, his chip is attached to it by a piece of gum. I’m not sure if he thought we would find it and just left it as a precaution or what.

  “Fuck!”

  “Hold on, boss. The sa
tellite feed is ready for viewing,” Radar states, and we watch as the video shows two men exit the side of the white van as the girls are running down the road, both wearing turbans that cover their faces.

  “Freeze it,” I command, coming around the table to the screen. “Go back just a little...stop. Magnify right here.” I point to the man with his arms around Ella. His arm is across her waist, and the evidence that arm displays is irrefutable.

  “What do you see, boys?”

  “Holy Shit!” Styx exclaims, jumping up.

  “Damn. That’s his tattoo, isn’t it?” Johnny says.

  “Yeah, that’s his tattoo, and the scar right above it takes all doubt out of my mind,” I state. “We’ve found our sleeper, boys.” You could hear a pin drop as the ramifications of what I’ve said permeate the room.

  “Now what?” Johnny asks, eyeing me closely.

  “He has no reason to believe we know it’s him. We wait until he comes back, and then we make our move,” I calmly reply.

  I know the plan seems simple, but two lives depend upon us not making waves. Beauty’s not acting alone in this, and until the girls are with us, we can’t act impulsively.

  “Radar, if he asks, we couldn’t get the satellite feed. Too grainy or something. Animal, I want you shadowing him when he leaves. Make sure you keep your tracker on, so we know where you are at all times.”

  “What about me?” Styx asks, barely containing his rage.

  “You’re with me,” I note. “We’re going to the meeting once it’s arranged.”

  With the plan set, all we can do now is wait.

  Time has no meaning in the dark prison we’ve been left to suffer in. My thoughts drift to Grayson and the happiness we’ve found. We’ve only just found each other again, and to have it end so soon because of the nightmare we’re caught in torments my soul. The future I had always dreamed of is right at my fingertips, only to be cut short by the actions of insane men. Soldiers fighting their holy war against the world in the name of Mohammed.