Taken ec-13

by Robert Crais

  Kwan punched the door a final time, and stalked back to his place against the wall. He locked eyes with Jack only once, then dropped to the floor.

  They were scared because their treatment by the guards had changed. Medina had been using the pliers on more and more of them. If money wasn’t sent, the calm and reasonable Rojas turned harsh during subsequent calls. He threatened terrible things, and some of the men and women returned in tears, reporting that Rojas or Medina had twisted their fingers or used the shock prod while they were on the phone, so their families would hear them cry out.

  Jack wondered what the guards had done to the paunchy man to make him scream so loudly. Everyone in the room was waiting to find out, but when the door finally opened, Rojas came in and made a short speech. One of the young Korean women translated for the Koreans.

  “You will all be happy to know Mr. Chun is on his way home. His family was generous today. You should tell your families to be the same. They have transferred the money we needed, and now Mr. Chun is on his way to their loving arms. If your families cooperate as well, you will soon be home, too. If not, then not.”

  Rojas remained until the girl finished translating, then left. The people in the room buzzed with this news, but Jack noticed Kwan was smirking.

  Jack said, “That’s good news. One of us got out.”

  Kwan snorted, and settled against his wall.

  “No family. The people he call no pay.”

  “Rojas lied?”

  “No pay.”

  Jack felt a chill as he realized what Kwan was saying, and felt for the knife again. He kissed Krista’s head, and whispered into her hair.

  “We’re going to do this, Krissy, okay? We’ll just go, is all, just do it.”

  She nodded, her face still in his shoulder.

  They sought a chance to escape every day, but either the utility room door would be locked when the guards were away, or too many guards were around when the door was unlocked. There was always something wrong, but they would try again soon. Miguel was going to show up in a few minutes to bring Krista and the other cook to the kitchen. Every time Kris was in the kitchen, she was closer to the door. Jack believed it was only a matter of time before their chance to escape would come.

  Jack kissed her soft hair again.

  “I want you to promise something.”

  “What?”

  “We gotta get out of here, right? Someone has to get out, even if it’s just one of us.”

  “We’re both going.”

  “I know, yeah, we’re both going, but listen, okay? If you get a chance when I’m not around, go. Get out of here, and go. And if we get into the garage together, but the guards come before we get out, I want you to keep going, okay?”

  She sat up.

  “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

  “I’m saying don’t wait for me. If you can get out, go, and I’ll hold them off.”

  She stared at him, and finally nodded.

  “Is she going to find us?”

  “Yeah, she’s going to find us, but we’re not going to wait. If you get the chance, go.”

  The door opened again, ending their conversation, and Miguel told her to get her ass into the kitchen.

  Two minutes after she left, Rojas returned, and pointed at Jack.

  “Come here, piss cleaner. Since we gotta wait for your mommy to get back from her trip, you gotta earn your keep. I have a job for you.”

  “You want me to empty the bucket?”

  “Leave it. I got something else.”

  Jack locked eyes with Kwan for a moment, then followed Rojas to the bathroom. A can of Comet, a spray bottle of Mr. Clean disinfectant, and a plastic scrub brush were waiting for him on a pile of threadbare cloth towels.

  “Clean the tub. Use this stuff, but don’t throw away the towels. We’re gonna wash’m. Bring the towels to the kitchen when you’re finished, and give’m to Miguel. You understand what I’m telling you?”

  “Yeah. I understand.”

  “When’s your mommy coming back?”

  “I don’t know. Ten days, maybe. I’ve lost track of time.”

  “You better hope she don’t spend all her money.”

  Rojas explained to the hall guard what Jack was going to do, then left. The hall guard leaned against the wall, already bored.

  Jack wondered what Rojas meant by his crack, then stepped over the cleaning supplies to check out the tub. The smell of feces and urine was strong throughout the house, but here it was even stronger.

  A thin red splatter streaked the tile wall like paint flicked from a brush. Pale red smears colored the tub’s beige enamel, and pink foam thinned by yellow liquid pooled thinly around the drain. A single island of black hair floated near the drain, held together by something the color of liver, while three long smears of something brown and loose smudged the bottom of the tub. Jack didn’t understand what he was seeing at first, then he did, and knew Mr. Chun had died here. They had killed him, right here in the tub, while his screams shook through the walls. They had cut his throat or stabbed him, and he had bled to death in the tub. He had died here. He was murdered here.

  They’re killing us.

  They are killing us.

  Jack’s hands shook, and the shaking spread to his chest. His entire body trembled, like a reed in strong wind.

  Jack glanced at the guard, who was watching with sleepy, lizard eyes.

  Jack picked up the Mr. Clean, and sprayed the disinfectant into his hand. He smelled it, and drew the strong smell deep, trying to blot out the awful stink trapped in the little bathroom. He pumped the sprayer to fog the tub and the walls and the air, and breathed deep so the chemicals scoured his nose. He wiped everything down with the towels. He sprinkled the Comet like blue snow, and wet it with more Mr. Clean, and sopped up the blood and piss and Mr. Clean to make the towels awful and foul. He wanted them soaked with death, and so disgusting Miguel would refuse to touch them and order Jack to load them into the washer.

  In the utility room.

  With the door to the garage.

  Jack rubbed and wiped until the tub was clean, then scooped up the bloody, piss-soaked, shit-stained towels, and turned to the guard.

  “It’s clean. Samuel said I should bring the towels to Miguel.”

  The guard, who had heard Samuel Rojas say that very thing, shrugged toward the kitchen, and let Jack pass.

  Jack said, “Gracias.”

  He carried the last remains of Mr. Chun in his arms like an overfed baby. Each step brought him closer to the kitchen, and Miguel and Kris, but he felt dizzy and separate from his body.

  THEY ARE KILLING US.

  He suddenly understood the crack Rojas made when he said Jack better hope his mother hadn’t spent all her money. They had killed Mr. Chun because his family couldn’t or wouldn’t pay. This is how all of them would die. One by one, the money would stop, and they would bleed to death in the tub.

  Jack and Krista had to leave. Today. Now. Immediately. So Jack had to make it happen. He was frantic for a plan, but if he returned to their room for the knife, the guard might not let him out. He wanted to tell Kwan, and enlist Kwan as an ally, but Kwan was in the room, which led to the same problem. Once Jack returned to the room, he might not be able to get out again while Krista was in the kitchen.

  Jack let a few towels fall, buying himself time to think. He had to do this now, alone, without the knife. Okay, fine. Suck it up, and get it done. Think!

  Miguel had a key if the door to the garage was locked. Miguel was bigger and tougher, but he was also lazy and stupid, and turned his back to Jack all the time. A heavy frying pan might make a good weapon, or the big cans of tomatoes Krista put in the soup. Those cans had to weigh a couple of pounds.

  Jack could get Miguel into the utility room easy enough by pretending something was wrong with the washer. If Jack could grab the pan or one of the big cans, he only needed to get behind Miguel for a second. He would do whatever he needed to do
to open the door.

  Jack was so scared his eyes watered. He blinked hard, and gathered the sopping towels in his arms, and continued toward the kitchen.

  Miguel usually parked his fat ass in a folding chair at the mouth of the kitchen in the entry. This is where he slept, only now the chair was empty.

  Jack hoped this meant Miguel was in the utility room or in the garage, which would be the best of all possible worlds, so he quickened his pace.

  His heart pounded and his pulse rushed in his ears as he crossed the entry into the kitchen, gearing up for the battle to come-

  But Miguel wasn’t in the kitchen, and nothing was as Jack expected.

  Medina stood over Krissy, and Krissy was on the floor. Her hands were up to protect herself. Blood smeared on her face.

  Jack’s world shrank to fuzzy red tunnels filled with roaring static. He saw Krista down with Medina above her, then Medina saw Jack, and his lips peeled away to show the horrible jagged teeth.

  Jack floated through falling blood-stained towels as he charged forward without doubt or hesitation.

  26

  Marisol was in the kitchen when Krista arrived with Miguel. The skinny guard Krista called the Praying Mantis was slouched against the counter, but he slinked into the living room as soon as Miguel arrived.

  Miguel toed a cardboard box filled with canned goods and plastic bags on the floor by the fridge.

  “Beans and rice. Make the red kidneys. Got two five-pound bags in there. I got bay leaves and chili peppers. See in there? That’ll make’m good.”

  Marisol looked in the box, but Krista didn’t care. She took their largest pot from the stove to the sink, and turned on the tap to fill it.

  Marisol brought the bags of beans and rice to the counter, then got their second pot and utensils, and waited her turn at the tap. One big pot for the beans, the other to cook the rice.

  Miguel went into the entry, plopped into his chair, and unfolded a car magazine.

  Krista glanced at him to make sure he wasn’t watching. Krista wasn’t tall, but she looked down at her small friend as she whispered.

  “I didn’t think he could read.”

  “He can’t. He sees only the pictures.”

  They shared a brief smile, then concentrated on filling the pots. Krista liked Marisol. She was a tiny girl from Ecuador, with cousins who lived in Anaheim. She had traveled almost two months up through the length of Mexico to reach the United States. Her dream was to work as a maid for a rich lady in Beverly Hills, and walk the lady’s white poodles every day.

  Marisol nudged her.

  “How you doing on your side?”

  Marisol lived in the other room with the other group of prisoners, many of whom were from Central America. Krista checked on Miguel again before she answered.

  “Not so good. They’re hurting people.”

  “Our side, too. If they don’t get the money, they make people cry. This girl from Chile-”

  Marisol glanced at Miguel, and lowered her voice even more.

  “The one with the teeth touched her down there. Her mama was on the phone, and he did these things with his fingers. He told her mama what he was doing.”

  Krista didn’t speak again until they had carried the first pot to the stove, and were filling the second pot. The beans had to be washed, so she dumped the beans into the pot and raked her fingers through the water to wash them.

  The information Marisol shared made Krista’s hair prickle, and she flashed on the pliers and the way Medina had looked at her, and wanted to scream. Instead, she tried to offer something encouraging.

  “A man on our side went home today. They made him scream. We all heard him, but his family must have paid. They sent him home.”

  Marisol’s eyes widened to saucers.

  “They let him go?”

  “A few minutes ago. He’s on his way now.”

  Marisol slowly shook her head.

  “No, Krista. No. They don’t let us go.”

  “He’s gone. Rojas told us.”

  Marisol faced her, and the girl’s voice was urgent.

  “They don’t let us go. They just keep taking the money. There is never enough money. If our families don’t find us, we must escape. Do you not know this?”

  Krista was wondering how to respond when the door in the utility room opened. Miguel immediately jumped to his feet as Medina came in from the garage. His hands and forearms were smeared with something greasy, and his shirt was blotchy and stained.

  Miguel simpered like a Chihuahua.

  “You need me to do anything?”

  Medina ignored him, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He looked Marisol up and down, then raked his gaze over Krista. He peeled out of his shirt like a snake sheds a skin, and dropped it to the floor.

  He stared at Krista, but spoke to Marisol.

  “Wash this. Make the water hot, and use bleach.”

  Marisol scurried to pick up the shirt, and took it into the utility room.

  Krista heard faint voices, a car door, and an engine starting in the garage. Then the garage door rattled as it lifted.

  Miguel tried again, like a simpering fool.

  “I guess everything’s okay, then, huh? You want me to take care of anything?”

  Krista turned back to the pot because she hated the weight of Medina’s eyes. His body was broad and hairless. He rippled with muscles, but he was not young and wasn’t clean. Loose skin stretched and folded in pale ways she found obscene.

  Medina finally gave Miguel an order.

  “Check the garage. Make sure Orlato didn’t drop something on the floor. Use the bleach.”

  Miguel hurried past Marisol into the garage.

  Krista stared into the pot as it filled, and felt Medina approach. She felt his body heat. He stopped directly behind her.

  “Move.”

  He used his body to nudge her aside, then rinsed his hands and forearms under the running water, depositing his filth into the beans.

  “Gimme the soap.”

  He squeezed a blue ribbon up and down his forearms and over his hands, and worked up a thick lather. He rinsed the suds into the beans, shut the tap, and faced her. Water dripped from his arms onto the floor.

  “Dry me.”

  She glanced up for Marisol or the Mantis or Miguel, but they were alone.

  “Dry me. You don’t see I’m wet?”

  He came closer, so she moved farther away, but still couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “You should be nice to me, girl.”

  She stepped away, but he grabbed her by the neck so fast she fell into him, and looked up to see his jagged teeth. She slapped at him, and tried to twist free, but he laughed. Then he stopped laughing, and punched her hard in the face.

  Krista fell without knowing it. She bounced off the counter, hit the floor, and looked up at him through a sparkling haze. He seemed very tall, with long legs and longer arms, and his voice echoed from far away.

  “It’s gonna be good, little puta.”

  He reached from the ceiling with a rubber arm, Krista threw up her hands to ward him off, and Jack came out of nowhere. He flew over her and slammed into Medina like a mongrel dog.

  Jack’s impact knocked Medina backward. They spun through the kitchen, wrapped together, all arms and legs. Jack made grunting sounds, and found her eyes briefly as he spiraled past.

  “Garage.”

  Krista struggled to her feet, but did not run for the garage. She grabbed the pot from the stove and swung at Medina, but the Mantis rushed in, and lifted her off her feet. Then Miguel and the other guards poured in, and crowded the kitchen to watch.

  Medina wrestled Jack to the floor and punched him over and over, his fist rising and falling like a piston.

  Krista fought to break away, but the Mantis held tight.

  “Stop it! You’re killing him-!”

  She pleaded, and tried to help, but the beating went on.

  “Stop!”

  Then the garage do
or opened, and the man with the ponytail entered.

  Miguel and the Mantis immediately pulled Medina to his feet. He fought them until he saw the new man, then immediately stopped struggling.

  Krista pleaded.

  “He’s hurt! He needs help! Look at him, please!”

  Jack was belly down on the floor. Blood trickled from both ears down the sides of his face.

  “He needs a doctor! Can’t you see? Please!”

  The new man gazed at Jack, then frowned at Medina.

  “You are costing me money.”

  “Discipline problem. You have to keep them in line.”

  The tall man looked at each guard in turn, then considered Krista. His expression was so thoughtful she felt encouraged he would help, but then he turned to Medina.

  “The dead are worth nothing. Do you see? Get rid of him before the others see him, and clean up this mess.”

  Krista didn’t realize what the tall man’s order meant until he and Rojas started away. Jack was hurt, they had no doctor, so they were going to kill him and get rid of his body.

  Krista blurted out the one thing she prayed would save his life.

  “He’s rich! They are rich! This is how his mother is away so long!”

  The tall man glanced at Rojas, who offered what he knew.

  “This is the one whose mother is in China. There is no one to call until she returns.”

  Krista kept pushing.

  “She takes these trips always. My mama says they have much money. If he dies, you will get nothing.”

  The tall man thought for a moment, then nodded at Medina.

  “We shall see. Do what you can for him.”

  The tall man and Rojas disappeared down the hall as Miguel and another guard bent over Jack. The Mantis took Krista’s arm, but Medina leaned close with his jack-o’-lantern face.

  “As soon as he’s gone, you will make the first call. You gonna call Mama. I’m gonna make you scream real good.”

  He leered even wider, then told the Mantis to take her to her room.