by J. L. Perry
Wade pulls out his gun and points it at the old man’s face. “Get out of the fucking car,” he screams.
The colour drains from the old man’s face. He doesn’t move for a moment, perhaps contemplating his next move. Will he do as he’s asked, or will he try and make a run for it? I can tell the exact moment he decides to give up his vehicle, and my heart sinks. After opening the driver’s side door, he holds his hands in the air. Wade doesn’t even give him the chance to get out on his own, grabbing hold of his arm and dragging him out instead. He’s so cruel.
“Get in,” he says to me.
I just stand there, unable to move.
“Now,” he screams.
I flinch before stepping forward. His tone is enough to tell me he’s about to blow.
“Wait,” the old man says, reaching for my arm. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Like I have a choice. I appreciate what he’s trying to do, but for his own well-being he needs to stay out of it. Ignoring his plea, I take another step towards the car. When he tightens his grip in an attempt to stop me, Wade loses his patience, turns and hits the old man in the side of the head with his gun. I gasp when he collapses to the ground. Tears fill my eyes when I see blood run down his forehead. This is exactly what I was afraid of.
He leans in the car, popping the boot before pulling me around to the rear of the vehicle, ordering me to get in.
“Please,” I cry. I hate confined spaces.
“Get in!” he yells, shoving me in the back. His movements seem more frantic now. He probably knows if he sticks around here any longer, he’s bound to get caught.
I stand there frozen, even when he raises his gun. I still can’t bring myself to climb inside. My stepmother locked me under the stairs once, I hyperventilated and eventual passed out. Neither of us told my father, but she never did that again.
“You can get in dead or alive—your choice,” he snaps, shoving his gun into my side. He may be bluffing, but I can never tell with him, so I begrudgingly do as he says.
Within seconds of closing the boot, he’s skidding out of the driveway and taking off down the street. He doesn’t seem to get far before slamming on the brakes. The frenetic driving and sudden stop throws me around like a ragdoll. I hear the car still idling and another car door open and then slam shut before we start moving again. I presume he stopped to get something out of the other car.
My breathing becomes laboured as my situation hits me hard. I close my eyes and try to picture Ryan, my happy place. Having a panic attack now won’t help. When we get far enough away from Paterson and the people I love, I’ll try my best to get free of him. I don’t know how, but at the first opportunity, I’ll make my move. If I have any sort of a chance, I need to pull myself together and remain calm.
I use the tip of my thumb to roll the ring on my finger. Ryan bought it for me for Christmas, it’s my most precious possession. Small hearts encircle the band, and a tiny pink gemstone sits in the centre of each heart. He called it a promise ring when he gave it to me.
“A promise ring?” I had asked. I wasn’t sure what that even meant.
“A promise of a future, and my vow to you that I’ll wait as long as it takes. I’d wait forever for you, Morgan.” He then cupped my face in his hands and kissed me—a long, drawn-out kiss—right in front of his mother.
Those words, and the sentiment surrounding his gift mean everything to me. It’s a shame that day will probably never come now.
Despite the dire circumstances I now find myself in, I’m smiling as I replay that morning in my head. It was by far the happiest moment of my life—a day I’ll never forget. If this is truly the end for me, I’m grateful I got to spend my last few months here in Paterson with the Mitchells. Most importantly I got to experience how true love feels.
“What a joke,” I say to Macca on our drive back to Paterson.
“Our justice system is a fucking joke at times,” he replies, annoyed. “We catch them, and the courts just give them a slap on the wrist and send them on their way.”
It’s not always the case, but we see this kind of thing happening way more than we would like. Some judges are too soft. They are all about rehabilitation and second chances. Most criminals re-offend anyway. It’s very disheartening.
“Do you mind dropping me off at the café?” I say as we approach town. “I’ll grab a quick bite to eat then head back to the station.”
“You just ate.”
“Since when has it been a crime to be hungry?” I chuckle.
“It’s not food you’re hungry for,” he says with a laugh. “You’ve really fallen hard for this one, haven’t you?”
I shrug, even though I know he’s right. “I think she’s the one, Sarge,” I admit, turning my head to look out the window.
“You think?”
“I know,” I say, making eye contact with him. “Nobody has ever made me feel the way she does. Not even close. It’s crazy how much she means to me.”
“In that case I suggest you hold onto her.”
He goes quiet, and I know he’s thinking about his late wife. She passed away five years ago, and I don’t think he’ll ever get over the loss. They never had any children of their own; it was just the two of them.
“I’ll walk back to the station when I’m done,” I say when he pulls up outside the café.
“Float, more like it,” he scoffs like a smug prick. I can tell he enjoys riling me up about my feelings for Morgan.
“Piss off!”
I hear him laugh as I exit the car, but I choose to ignore him.
“See you later lover boy.”
Even though I’m smiling, I shake my head as he pulls away from the kerb.
The moment I enter the café, my eyes scan the room looking for my girl. She’s been on my mind all day, and I’ve missed her.
It’s almost 2 p.m., so the busy lunch period is winding down, but poor Sally looks stressed as she scurries around collecting the dirty dishes from the tables.
“Ryan,” she says with a sigh as I approach her. “What the hell happened to Morgan today? She’s supposed to be working.”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“I’ve been trying to call her all day.”
“When I left her this morning, she was going to get ready for work.”
Alarm bells rings in my head. This is unlike her. If she couldn’t make it for some reason, I’m sure she would’ve called Sally to let her know.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, and frantically dial her number. When it goes straight to message bank, my anxiety heightens.
I try again, this time leaving a voice message. “Morgan, call me as soon as you get this.”
I dial my mother’s number next, and she doesn’t answer either. It’s unusual for her to miss a call, since most of her B&B bookings come through her mobile. Punching in the landline number, I impatiently wait for her to pick up. The moment the answering machine kicks in, I’m out the door in a flash. My gut tells me something is wrong.
I sprint like my life depends on it, down the main street towards my mother’s place. Some of the locals stop and stare as I pass. A few of them even ask if everything is okay, but I don’t answer.
My lungs are burning as I bolt up the steep hill out of town that leads to the B&B. My mind is swimming with all kinds of crazy shit.
The phone rings in my pocket, and only then do I halt. I feel a sense of relief as I slide my hands into my pants pocket to retrieve it. The moment I see Macca’s number though, my heart sinks.
I’m gasping for air as I accept the call. “I can’t talk right now,” I manage to get out.
“He’s out,” is all he says, and I immediately start running again. My phone is still in my hand, but no longer to my ear, so I can’t hear anything else he’s saying.
“I need back up at my mums,” I scream out, letting him know where I’m heading.
I cut through the neighbour’s yard, jumping the side fence that sepa
rates the two properties.
Sliding my phone into my pocket, I crouch down and make my way across the front of the property, before climbing the stairs two at a time.
As I reach for my gun, I assess my surroundings. My initial thought is to barge in there, but I need to be smart here. The two most important people in my life need me to keep my shit together. There’s too much at stake if I fuck this up.
I’m filled with dread, I have no idea what I’m going to find inside.
Sucking air into my lungs, I carefully reach for the handle of the front door. Adrenaline courses through my body, making my heart pound against my chest.
I creep into the foyer of the B&B. I only take a few steps in before I hear the first noise. Stilling, I listen carefully. They’re muffled cries, and they’re definitely female.
My arms are outstretched as I hold my gun, ready to fire if needed. My eyes are everywhere as I take a few more steps. The moment I get site of the long hallway I freeze.
“Mum!” My worst fears are confirmed the second my eyes land on her. She’s bound to a chair that’s laying on its side. I quickly scan my surroundings before rushing over. “Mum, are you okay?” Which is a stupid question.
Seeing her like this really fucks with my head. When I notice the gag on her mouth, and the tears streaming down her face, I use all my strength to lift the chair upright.
She whimpers when I reach for the duct tape placed across her mouth. I try to be gentle while removing it as quickly as possible. I need to know what the fuck happened here, and where the hell is Morgan?
“He took her,” she blurts out the moment her lips are free. “He took her, Ryan,” she cries.
“Where?”
“I don’t know. He was so ….” Her words drift off.
“He was so what, Mum?” I snap. I understand she’s traumatised right now, and I feel bad for snapping at her, but I need to know what happened.
“Brutal.”
“Fuck,” I say, getting to my feet. “Fuck!” Clutching my head in my hands, I try to process what has happened.
“It’s been hours,” she cries, bowing her head and sobbing. Jesus Christ!
The moment I hear heavy footsteps coming up the path, I reach for my gun. Spinning, I hold it out in front me as I face the door.
I drop my arms the moment I see Macca.
“He’s got her,” I scream.
“I know,” he says. “A fax came in about his release while we were in court. He assaulted and stole Ted Campbell’s car at gunpoint earlier today. He had Morgan with him.”
“Fuck. How long ago?”
“About five hours ago,” he says with a sigh.
Five fucking hours? He could’ve done anything to her in that time. My legs threaten to give way underneath me as Macca reaches for my arm to steady me.
“You need to keep it together, son, for Morgan’s sake.” He’s right. “An alert has already gone out for Wade, Morgan, and the stolen car,” he adds.
With five hours already passed, they could be anywhere. The dread I was feeling earlier comes back tenfold. “I can’t lose her, Sarge.”
“I know, son. We’ll find her.” He tries his best to sound optimistic, but he knows as well as I do, her situation is dire. Will we find her? Will she be alive?
“Shit. Mum,” I say, turning to face her. In my panic for answers I forgot to free her from her restraints.
Heading into the kitchen, I grab a pair of scissors from the drawer and release Mum from the chair.
I pace back and forth as Macca makes a few more calls. It’s been almost half an hour since I found out Morgan had been taken, and with each passing second, my concern deepens. I feel utterly helpless just standing here, while the love of my life is out there somewhere enduring god-knows-what at the hands of that monster. I want to fucking kill him.
Although my primary concern right now is Morgan, my heart still hurts for my mother. There’s so much anguish on her face.
When the paramedic is finished checking her, I walk over and crouch down beside her. “I don’t want to leave you, Mum” I say, reaching for her hand. “But Morgan ….”
“I know, sweetheart,” she replies, tears filling her haunted eyes. I hate that she had to go through all this. Although her injuries on the outside appear superficial, it’s the trauma of everything she endured today that worries me the most. “Morgan needs you. That’s more important right now.”
The worry remains etched on her face as I lean forward and kiss her cheek.
“Will you go to hospital with her?” I ask, turning my attention to Macca.
“I need to be here. The detectives will be arriving shortly.”
“I don’t want her to be alone,” I say.
“What about one of her friends?”
“Yvonne,” I tell him. She’s been living next door for as long as we’ve been here. Over time, her and Mum have become close friends. Yvonne lives alone, and Mum has often cared for her over the years when she’s been unwell. I’m sure she’d be happy to return the favour.
Macca doesn’t waste any time and heads next door to ask the neighbour if she’ll accompany my mother in the ambulance. I want to be the one to do that, but she’s in safe hands. Morgan—that’s an entirely different story.
“I’ll come to the hospital as soon as I can,” I say to my mother as the paramedics prepare to wheel her out of the house.
“Please keep me updated with any news,” she replies. “And stay safe, sweetheart.”
I lean forward and kiss her on the cheek again. “I love you, Mum.”
“I love you too, Ryan.” Tears fill her eyes again. “I hope you find her soon.”
“I won’t rest until I do.”
Macca and I stand on the front porch, watching the ambulance pull away. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing,” I tell him. “I’m going out of my mind.”
“At this stage, we don’t even know where to start looking. Who knows what direction they’re travelling, or if they’re even on the move.”
I’m driving around like a mindless fool while Macca handles things at the other end for me.
We got word that the stolen vehicle they’re travelling in fuelled up at a petrol station in Goulburn before driving away without paying. That’s four hours away from here, but I head in that direction nevertheless. The closer I can get to her, the better I’ll feel.
Macca organised a press release. In situations like this, any help from the public can be vital. We’re hoping to get some reports of sightings soon. The longer she’s in the hands of that fucking psychopath, the more critical her situation becomes.
It seems like an eternity passes before I finally get the call I’ve been waiting for. “We have a visual,” Macca screams down the phone. “Our boys are hot on his tail as we speak. They’re thirty minutes south of Canberra.”
“Thank God,” I breathe a sigh of relief as I pull the car over to the side of the road. “Is Morgan in the car? Is she okay?”
“At this stage we don’t know. They haven’t been able to get close enough to see. He’s not giving up, so they’re talking about laying down road spikes.”
“Sarge, you know how badly that can end. What if the car loses control and crashes?”
“They know there’s possibly a hostage in the vehicle.”
“Possibly? He has her. We’ve already confirmed that!”
I hear him release a long, drawn out breath. “We need to face the prospect that she may no longer be with him.”
“Fuck, don’t say that.”
“I’m hoping I’m wrong, son,” he says, “but you need to prepare yourself.”
“Is there something you’re not telling me?” I ask.
He lets out another sigh. “The footage from the petrol station showed no sign of a passenger. That doesn’t mean she wasn’t lying down in the vehicle, but ….” His words drift off, and my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach.
“Where are they?” I ask, trying to push all that s
hit out of my mind. She has to be okay. There’s no other option for me right now.
“Near Williamsdale, on the Monaro Highway.”
“Fuck, that’s a good two hours from me.”
“Hopefully this ends quickly.”
“I’m going to continue heading in that direction.”
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” he asks. “I wish I was there with you.”
“Someone has to handle things from that end, and I can’t just sit around and do nothing,” I say.
“I understand that.”
“Just keep me updated.”
“Will do.”
“I need to know everything that’s going on, Sarge, good or bad. I can handle it.” Deep inside I know those words are all lies. I won’t handle it if something bad happens to her.
I pull up outside Canberra Hospital. My heart still feels like it’s in my throat.
Leaning my head on the steering wheel, I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself. She’s going to need me at my best after everything she’s been through.
The police chase lasted an excruciating twenty-five minutes, which felt more like six fucking hours to me. I’m just thankful she lived through it.
I don’t waste any time, exiting the car and jogging towards the emergency department. There’s a small part of me that’s worried about the mental state she’s in after such an ordeal. She may not even want to see me. But I need to see her, I just have to, even just for a minute.
“I’d like to see Morgan Abraham,” I tell the nurse manning the desk in ER. “She was brought in a few hours ago.”
“Are you family?”
“No, I’m her boyfriend, but I’m the only person she has.” Technically, she has her father and two stepsisters, but I doubt they’d take the time to come and see her, or even care.
The nurse types something into the keyboard, as my foot bounces impatiently. Morgan is only metres away, somewhere on the other side of that glass. So close, yet so far.
“She’s in bed 20,” the nurse finally replies. “I’ll buzz you in through the double doors on the right.”