“Hi Amy!” someone chirped from behind her.
Her heart rate accelerated to three times its normal speed. She whirled to face the speaker with adrenaline roaring through her veins. Chris leapt back with a comically shocked expression. “God!” Amy gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” Her cheeks burned. At least she hadn’t pulled the gun on him.
Chris giggled. “I startled you first. Why you freaked?”
“No reason.” She dismissed her weird behavior with an unconvincing shrug. “Do you know where Susan’s hiding?”
“She left. Your brother picked her up.”
A chill ran down her spine. “My brother is in BC.”
“He must be back.”
The chill spread over her shoulders and down her arms. The noisy playground faded until all she heard was her own pounding heart. “What did he look like?” She hardly dared to breathe.
Chris furrowed his brow. “Um, I didn’t really see. Don’t you know what your brother looks like?” Her phone began to ring. She pulled it from her purse and stared at the blocked number. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”
She accepted the call with mounting dread.
“Step away from the kid,” a male voice commanded.
Goose bumps pricked her skin. “Who is this?”
“Do as I tell you, or something unfortunate will happen to your sister,” the cold voice drawled. She recognized Johnson’s thick Southern accent.
She backed away from Chris with her eyes stretched wide and her heart in her throat. “Amy? What’s wrong?”
“Go out onto the street and turn left,” Johnson ordered. She obeyed, her blood roaring in her ears. She was being crushed between anger and panic, the warring emotions making it hard to breathe. “Listen carefully.” Johnson spoke in slow, precise sentences, his drawling tone assaulting her ears. “Stay on the phone. Avoid talking to anyone. Don’t draw attention to yourself in any way, shape, or form. If you do, we will know. Wave goodbye to the kid. Do it now!”
“Okay.” Her voice trembled with choking rage. She waved to Chris and forced a sickly smile.
“Walk to the corner.” His acidic tone burned her skin.
“All right,” she answered through clenched teeth. “I’m here.”
He cackled. “I know, good girl. Cross the street and head north along Twenty-second Avenue. Don’t forget my rules.”
“Wait.” The word came out in a barely audible rasp. She took a breath to steady her voice. “How do I know you have Susan?”
“So that’s her name. She wouldn’t say.”
“Amy! What’s happening?” Susan’s words were shrill with panic.
Amy’s heart twisted at the terror in her sister’s voice. “Sue, it’s okay. I’m coming to find you.”
“Shut up, Amy.” Johnson had the phone again. “That enough proof for you?”
She clutched the phone to her ear in a clenched, trembling fist. “Don’t you dare hurt her.”
“You’re awfully demanding for someone in your position,” he crooned sweetly.
“I’ll do whatever you want. Just let her go.” Her words vibrated with molten fury even as hot tears of shame pricked her eyes. Susan was scared and alone because of her.
“No way.” He chuckled, relishing in her powerlessness. “Not until you arrive. We warned you, Amy.”
“Where are you?” She strode in the direction he had indicated earlier.
“You must think we’re pretty stupid.” The sharp edge had returned to his voice. “We’re gonna take this one step at a time.”
She followed their directions block by block and walked for what felt like forever. Her eyes blurred with tears of rage, but she refused to make a sound. She trudged down abandoned, trash-littered alleyways, passed shabby houses with darkened windows. She left the possibility of help further and further behind with every painful moment that passed and every instruction she was forced to follow. She hated herself more with every single step she took.
“You better hurry, Amy. We’re getting bored.” There was laughter in the background.
Her stomach clenched. What were they doing to Susan? She quickened her pace and struggled on. She had to reach her little sister. The instinct to protect her ran deeper than her bones. It coursed through her veins with every breath and every beat of her aching heart.
Her silent sobs became too much to bear. She collapsed against a chain-link fence and quietly fell apart in the mud. The rain mixed with the tears pouring down her face as suffocating despair dragged her down. She had to get help. But like always, she was alone.
“On your feet,” Johnson said in a voice colder than ice.
Susan needed her. She pushed up from the mud and battled on.
“Stop crying, Evans. People will notice,” a different voice snapped. This one held more authority. Alex. His businesslike tone was far more chilling than Johnson’s glee.
Amy choked down a sob and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “How much farther? Where’s my sister?”
“Five driveways down at the end of the road.”
Amy squinted down the street through the sheets of pouring rain. The muddy road sloped steeply toward the edge of a marshy swamp. Rickety shacks dotted the slope in no particular order, many leaning to one side or turned at odd angles. They looked like toy houses a child had thrown around in an angry tantrum.
She squelched through the mud, counting the dirt paths Alex had generously termed driveways. Her heart plummeted at her first sight of Assassin’s Honor’s hideout. The desolate structure squatted at the end of the shabby street, a good two hundred feet from the nearest dwelling. No one would hear them when they screamed. Trash littered the overgrown lawn, graffiti decorated the tiny front window, and the four-foot-wide porch sported a lopsided sign that read Keep Out.
“I see it,” she said. “Now what?”
The line went dead. She jolted as if electrocuted and plunged toward the shack through the swiftly darkening evening. A sixth sense urged her to hurry. She had to get to Susan, and she had to get there now. She tore through overgrown bushes that threatened to rip out her hair. She splashed through lakelike puddles and nearly slipped in the mud. She smashed her way through a flimsy wooden gate and shrieked her defiance to the night.
The door flew open the moment she reached the porch. “Glad you decided to join us.” Alex sneered. “Took you long enough.”
Twenty-two
ZACK HACKED AT his partially dissected frog with more force than strictly necessary. If Charles wouldn’t help Amy, it was her versus Assassin’s Honor. The thought made his stomach churn. He had to help her. He needed to escape detention. He racked his brains for an excuse and accidentally decapitated his frog. His lab partner pulled their mangled dissection to the other side of the table to rescue it from Zack’s erratic stabbing.
He ditched his friends at lunch to pay Principal Cook a visit. She greeted him with an amused smile. “Mr. Donnellson? You’re here early. Looking forward to your third detention of the week?”
“Not exactly.” He dropped into the straight-backed chair across from her. “I have to pick my brother up after school because my parents are away. I tried to explain this to Mr. Fields, but he semihates me and wouldn’t listen.”
She steepled her slender fingers. “You’re the only one able to pick him up?”
“Yeah,” Zack lied with an easy smile. Chris could easily chill at a friend’s house, but his principal didn’t need to know that.
“And it’s pure coincidence that it’s Friday?” She arched a brow.
He gazed earnestly into her aquamarine eyes. “It is! I have to make sure my little bro makes it home okay.”
“All right, Zack.” She spread her hands, a faint twinkle in her eye. “You may complete your detention next Tuesday, since you already have one booked for Monday. Does that comply with your schedule?”
“Yes.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks for being so accommoda
ting.”
“You’re welcome.” She graciously inclined her head. “But try putting forth more effort in class, okay? You’d avoid detention and possibly prevent certain homeroom teachers from how did you put it? Semihating you?”
Zack flashed her a grin. Teachers had been telling him to put forth more effort since the fifth grade. Thanking his lucky stars females of all ages found him charming, he sauntered from her office with a spring in his step. He was going to catch Amy as she left school and escort her home like the hero that he was.
He was one hundred percent confident until seconds after the last bell. He strode purposefully out of class and froze in the middle of the hall. Where was he going? Where would Amy be right now? Unease fluttered in his stomach. What class did she have last period? Why hadn’t he thought to ask her? His apprehension grew as he wandered the school without finding her anywhere.
“What’s up?” Ken joined him in the nearly empty parking lot.
His heart leapt. Ken’s locker was next to hers. “Have you seen Amy?”
“Yeah. She left ten minutes ago. Hey!” Ken shouted after him as Zack charged for his car. “You’re losing it, man! She’s just a girl!”
An eternity, or ninety seconds later, he squealed to a halt in front of Parsons Elementary. The grounds were crawling with clamoring little kids and their stressed-out parents.
“Bro!” Chris leapt into Zack’s Lexus before it reached a complete stop. “It’s the weekend!” he whooped, thrusting a fist into the air.
Zack raked his gaze over the grounds, worry spiraling within him like an expanding Slinky of doom. “Chris, where are Amy and Sue?”
Chris shrugged one shoulder. “They left.”
Zack’s eyes bulged. “I can never get you to shut up, and now you give me two words? They left? When? Where did they go?”
“Susan got picked up by her brother. Then Amy came looking for her. I guess she didn’t know her brother was going to get Sue because she didn’t know where she was.”
“Wait. Slow down. Start from the beginning.” He zoomed away from the school with a screech of tires.
“You’re relentless.” Chris rolled his eyes. “Susan got picked up by her brother.”
Zack reflexively slammed on the brakes. The driver of a gray pickup laid on his horn and swerved to avoid rear-ending them.
“Look out!” Chris paled.
Zack pressed the gas. They flew forward with a gut-wrenching jolt. “Their brother is in Vancouver. How would he pick up Susan?” Thick bands of anxiety knotted tightly in his chest.
“I have no idea.” Chris gripped his armrest. “Stop speeding or you’ll get us killed.”
“What did Amy say when you saw her?” he asked, trepidation lacing his tone.
“Not much. She asked me where Sue was, got a weird phone call, and ran off.”
“That makes no sense. You sure that’s all she said?”
Chris thought for a minute. “I don’t think she knew the person who called her.”
A chill ran down his spine. His thoughts raced faster than his speeding car. “Chris, I need you to remember exactly what happened.”
“I told you three times already.”
“Please, this is majorly important.” His words vibrated with desperate urgency. “You have to help me.”
Chris heaved a long sigh and started from the beginning. “Me and Sue were hanging out on the swings, just waiting for you and Amy. You were both late. You’re always late.” He paused to scowl at Zack. “A teacher came over and told Sue her brother had come to pick her up. She got super excited and ran off to meet him. Amy showed up a few minutes later, and—”
“Wait. What did Amy’s brother look like?”
“I’m not sure. His car was on the other side of the playground.”
“Anything else?” Zack asked as they neared their street.
Chris slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so. Amy just seemed confused when I told her their brother had showed up.”
“Okay, thanks bro. I’m going to be out for a while. Sit tight at home and make sure you lock the doors.”
Chris twined his fingers together, a nervous flicker in his sky blue eyes. “Where are you going?”
“To find Amy and Sue. There’s something weird going on.”
“What do you mean, weird?” he asked as they pulled into their garage.
Zack furrowed his brow, considering what to tell the younger boy. “Their brother lives in Vancouver, and the girls didn’t expect him home.”
Chris smiled and slid from the car. “Maybe he surprised them.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Zack pursed his lips in a doubtful frown. He reversed out of their garage and backed toward the street.
Chris chased after his car, motioning for Zack to roll down his window. “Dude! I remembered something. Susan’s brother had a scar on his face.” He traced a finger down his right cheek.
That cute nine-year-old kid had hopped into a car with Nathan Johnson’s gang? Zack broke half a dozen traffic laws as he tore through his neighborhood. His pulse pounded in his ears, his thoughts whirling like a tornado. Had Assassin’s Honor kidnapped Susan to bait Amy? Had Amy learned of their plan and tried to stop them on her own?
He took a deep, calming breath. Amy knew what was going on. He had to call her. She had given him her number when he had driven her to school the other day. Did he still have it? He whipped out his iPhone and ordered Siri to call Amy. Siri informed him in her detached way that he had no one in his contacts with that name. He slammed a fist into his padded dashboard. The one time he had forgotten to save a girl’s number.
It started to rain. The drops pinged against his roof and cloaked the world in thick, uncertain mist. He parked in an empty lot behind a high-end furniture store, dumped out the contents of the glove box, and sifted through a multitude of fast-food wrappers, Chris’s comics, and Ken’s lost homework. Amy’s number was nowhere to be found. He punched the dashboard again, and a light bulb flicked on in his mind. He had called Amy without realizing it was her to ask her to babysit Chris. He skimmed his recent calls and selected her number on a rush of elated relief. It rang a few times and went to voicemail. He stabbed the end icon with a frustrated groan.
Zack covered his face with his hands and squeezed his forehead in an effort to think. What if he contacted Amy’s brother and proved he was still in Vancouver? He’d have enough shady info to bring their case to the police. They’d put out an Amber Alert and find the girls.
He plucked the phone book his mom made him cart around from the pile of debris once contained within the glove box. He called Amy’s house, told her mom he was an old friend of Justin’s, and asked for his new number. She dictated it to him after a quick, slurred chat.
Zack held his breath and dialed Justin’s number with mounting dread. He longed to be wrong about everything and for Susan to be safe.
Someone answered on the second ring. “Hello?”
Zack froze. What was he supposed to say? “Uh, hey. Is this Justin Evans?”
“You betcha,” a cheerful voice replied. “Can I help you?”
“I think. I hope so. I’m a friend of Amy’s, and she’s in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” His tone instantly grew serious.
“I’m not sure. I think …” How was he supposed to tell this guy that his nine-year-old sister had been kidnapped?
“If my sister is in trouble, I need to know about it right now.” Justin had gone from serious to glacial in five seconds flat.
Zack winced. Hadn’t Amy said something about this guy being a cop? “Someone scooped Susan after school, pretending to be you. I’m pretty sure she was kidnapped, and that Amy took the bait.”
“I’m on my way.”
“What? But you’re in Vancouver, right? You’re coming all the way here?”
“Yes. I’ll make the next flight if I hurry. I know someone who can help. She’s the absolute best in her field.”
“But how—”
“Bring me up to speed when I arrive. Don’t call Amy’s phone. Don’t involve anyone else. We don’t want them to know that we know something’s up. Meet me at the airport at ten p.m.”
“You want me to wait for six hours?”
“I know.” Justin sighed, irritation pricking his words. “But you won’t be able to convince the police of foul play until I arrive. There’s a chance you could make the situation worse. Meet me at the airport.” He hung up.
Zack clenched his jaw and tossed his phone onto the passenger seat. It bounced and fell to the floor. Cold realization doused him like a bucket of ice water. Justin had warned him not to call Amy. Zack already had.
Twenty-three
THE PUTRID STENCH of rotting garbage assaulted Amy’s nostrils as Alex dragged her through the shack’s front door. The living room was dimly lit with matted carpeting the color of mud and paneling that had gone out of style in the midseventies. Johnson and Ash were lounging in a pair of overstuffed, ripped armchairs. Susan lay tied up on the floor next to an insanely buff, dark-haired guy Amy had never seen before.
Amy rushed to her sister and fell to her knees on the dirty shag carpet. Was brown its natural color, or was it that disgustingly filthy? She took Susan’s small hand and squeezed it between both of hers. Her sister’s skin was clammy and cold. “You okay?” Amy whispered. Susan nodded. Amy stood and faced Assassin’s Honor with one hand on her hip. “I’m here. Let her go.”
“It ain’t gonna be that simple,” Johnson sneered. He stared at her and Susan as if assessing their weak points. “Cardelle, Jenkins, you take Amy here and show her some Assassin’s Honor hospitality. Ash and I will deal with the little one.”
The guy sitting on the floor with Susan, the one called Jenkins, blanched at his leader’s words. “Ash, I’ll switch with you.”
Amy clenched her teeth against a burst of white-hot rage. Jenkins preferred to torture a nine-year-old? What sick bastard liked torturing a child? Hatred simmered in her soul.
Blood Moon's Fury: A Young Adult Fantasy Thriller (Curse of the Blood Moon Book 1) Page 14