by Josi Kilpack
She pulled the hem of the sweatshirt down and avoided looking at him. “It’s really nice,” she said again.
He was quiet for several seconds, and she shifted from one foot to another. “We’re leaving,” he then said. “Check-out is at noon.”
He went on to explain what would happen to her if she tried anything. “I know you think you’ve got a plan,” he said. “I can see it in your eyes.” She felt herself shiver. He’d been a step ahead of her the whole time, but it had only been today that her head felt clear enough for her to really think. “You can’t thwart destiny, Jessie. We’re meant to be together.” He went quiet until she looked up at him again. Then he smiled.
She just nodded. “Can I wash my face?” she said. “I don’t want to break out or anything.”
He fairly beamed that she was speaking to him. “Oh yes, yes, certainly. I’ll get the washcloth wet for you.” He still didn’t trust her to use the sink. He grabbed a washcloth from the rack, got it wet, rubbed it with soap, and handed it to her.
“Thank you,” she said as she took it.
“You’re welcome, Jessie,” he said, reaching out and running his hand over her hair and down her back. It made her want to throw up, but she didn’t pull away.
She scrubbed at her face, slow and deliberate, careful not to get the soap near her eyes. Her contacts were the kind she could wear day and night for almost a month, but she’d already been wearing them for three weeks when she’d left home. If something happened to them, she’d be unable to see very well. After almost a full minute of watching her every movement, he got another washcloth wet and handed it to her. She washed off the soap slowly, and he turned back to the room. She watched his back in the mirror and quickly pulled the medallion out of her pocket. He didn’t notice. She held it tightly in her left hand as she finished rinsing her face. Then she bundled the washrag around the pendant and dropped them both on the counter. He finished zipping the large duffel bag that held all his clothes and supplies.
“You’d better drink something. It will make things easier for you.”
She felt a tremor roll up her spine. What did he mean it would make things easier for her? “Okay,” she said, as if defeated. He smiled again, and his big fat face relaxed. She could tell he thought he was winning.
They left the cabin for the first time in a week, and she looked around quickly without being too obvious. All she could see were trees, brush, old snow and the dirt road. He had a hand clamped on her arm as he led her to the car, opened the back door, and pushed her inside. When he got in the front seat, she pretended to take a big drink from the water bottle he handed her. His face relaxed, and she felt reassured in her choice to play the game this way. She replaced the lid, but didn’t tighten it all the way before placing it on the seat and gently knocking it over. She glanced at it only long enough to see the drips of water disappearing into the seat cushion. He glanced at her continually in the rearview mirror. She tried not to notice and looked out the window. A few minutes later, with the water now seeping into her pants, she picked up the bottle and watched his eyes in the mirror measure that it wasn’t full. She feigned another drink, then dropped it to the seat again. He relaxed even more as she lay against the door, closed her eyes, and waited for whatever came next.
75
I’m so hungry,” Keith said, throwing himself dramatically on the couch as if to imitate a starving man.
“You can eat, Keith,” Kate reminded him. “We told you this morning that we don’t expect you to fast all day.”
“I know,” he grumbled, but he made no move toward the kitchen. It was almost two o’clock. Kate couldn’t believe he’d made it this long. Sharla, who had always had a difficult time fasting, had chosen to eat around noon. Half an hour later she broke down and cried, sure that her eating was going to ruin everything. They’d had a long discussion about fasting, about faith—and they’d prayed again.
The phone rang, and as always, the household held its breath. Brad came out of the study where he’d been online again. He picked up the phone on the second ring. Kate was glad he’d taken the role of spokesperson. Though she was doing better, she was still completely frazzled and couldn’t handle talking to people. “You’re kidding,” Brad said into the phone. “Yes, we’re here—come over.”
Kate hurried toward him. He hung up the phone and turned to look at his wife.
“What?” she asked.
“They found Jess’s medallion.”
“What?” Kate said, feeling her face blanch. “Where?”
“It was in a pile of towels left in a cabin outside of Columbia Falls, Montana. The maid cleaned the room this morning and found it. The manager remembered hearing something about a missing girl with a silver religious token. She called the police.”
Kate staggered back until she caught herself on the counter. Her mind was a blur of thoughts.
Brad smiled, though his chin quivered. “We’re so close,” he said.
Kate nodded, speechless. Jess was alive—she had to be. She’d somehow managed to drop the medallion as a clue. It had her name on the back. Brad reached for Kate, and they clung to one another as the first good news washed over them.
By the time Agent Gardner showed up at the front door, they had their overnight bags ready to go, and half their family gathered in the living room. Agent Gardner handed over a large piece of paper with two photographs side by side. Kate and Brad stared at the enlarged picture of the medallion, front and back.
Love you
Jess
**
Dad
&
Mom
“That’s it,” Kate breathed, remembering how excited she’d been to give it, and how much Jess had seemed to appreciate the personalization. Now it was part of bringing her home. Kate had done something right!
Brad handed the picture to Kate, then hoisted a bag onto his shoulder. In addition to their own items, they’d packed clean clothes for Jess—pajamas and a few of her other things.
“Uh, what’s this?” Agent Gardner asked.
“We talked about it. We’re going up there. We want to see the cabin.”
“I don’t know that it’s such a good idea,” the detective said. “We don’t know what we’re going to find and—”
“They’re on their way to Canada,” Brad said. “You know they are. If they find her, we’ll be there.”
“Uh—”
“Are you really going to try to stop us?” Kate asked.
The detective looked between the two of them and finally shook his head. “No, I’m not.”
“Good,” Brad said. “Where is this cabin?”
76
Jess was dreaming. She knew it, and she hoped she’d never wake up. In her dream she wasn’t alone anymore. She was surrounded by people—hundreds of them. And she knew every face, every voice. It was as if every person she’d ever met were gathered together. She didn’t know what the occasion was, but she was so glad to be there. After six days she would give anything to be with any one of them. There were teachers, cousins, friends, kids from school—everyone.
And yet, would they even want her now? He said they wouldn’t—he, the man who called himself Colt, though she never thought of him that way. Even after all this time, it was hard to admit that Colt and Emily were really this monster. As strange as it sounded, she missed her friends.
A bump in the road shook the car, jolting her from sleep. The dream shut off like a switch, and she whimpered inside. She needed those faces—even if it was only in her mind. She didn’t open her eyes, hoping he would think she was still asleep. Besides, if she opened her eyes, she’d see his reflection in the rearview mirror—watching her, smiling at her. She belonged to him, he said. He owned her.
The seat was soaked from her water bottle, which was still dripping into the cushions. She’d left it on the seat so he’d be able to see it, so he wouldn’t get suspicious. A few minutes later she felt the car drifting to the right, and she opened
her eyes, thinking that because he was turning he wouldn’t be looking into the mirror so intently. She glanced at the rearview mirror. He wasn’t looking at her. She quickly shut her eyes again—but not before she saw something . . . just for an instant.
The negative of it was imprinted on her eyelids, and she nearly forgot to breathe. It couldn’t be, she said to herself. But it had been her face she saw, hadn’t it? Or was she just seeing things? She waited until he made another turn, and she opened her eyes again—chiding herself as she did so. What did she expect? To see the same paper again? It had been miles ago.
But it was there. On a tree this time. She wanted to study it, but instead she snapped her eyes shut. Her heart began to pound. The paper had her picture on it, the one from Spring Fling, with the word KIDNAPPED written in big bold letters. They knew! They were looking for her.
She wanted to cry, but instead she forced herself to remember that dream, the one with all the people—everyone she’d ever known. She wanted to transport herself there so badly she could hardly stand it.
Another turn. She opened her eyes again. No posters. But there was a sign that read, “Waterton Crossing, 1 mile.” Had he seen the posters?
She felt the car slow and pull off the road. They drove for a couple more minutes on road much rougher than the highway before coming to a stop.
This is it, a voice said in her mind.
This is what? she asked back. Why were they stopping?
She kept her body limp, as if she’d really drunk the water, and she nearly fell on the ground when he opened the door she was leaning against. He caught her, but she felt sure he noticed her muscles were tense—very undrugged-like. It was colder here than it had been outside the cabin, and she worried that he’d notice her pants were soaked. But she didn’t let the fear talk her out of this. Faith, she told herself, parroting at least a hundred Sunday School lessons in her mind, not fear.
“You’re waking up?” he said. “That’s too bad, Jessie. The trunk would have been a lot more comfortable if you weren’t.” She didn’t react to his words as he put his arms under her armpits and started dragging her out of the car. She waited until only her legs were in the car; then she bent her knees and, using the seat as leverage, pushed as hard as she could. Both of them flew backward. He landed on the ground with a grunt, cushioning her fall, and she didn’t waste a moment in trying to get away. They weren’t on the highway anymore, and there was nothing but trees and patches of snow surrounding this side road. But she didn’t care. All that mattered was getting away. She’d figure out later where she was, and if she ended up lost and dying in the mountains, that was better than this anyway.
But she didn’t move fast enough. His hand latched onto her ankle and sent her face first into the gravelly road. She screamed and kicked for all she was worth. He was strong, and she felt his other hand grab farther up her leg as she clawed at the loose gravel, struggling to find anything to give her an edge. Her hand closed around a handful of dirt and rocks. She twisted and threw it into his face. It was enough. His grip loosened, and with a couple of swift kicks, she was free from his grasp. She scrambled to her feet and ran headlong into the trees that lined the roadside, crashing through a pile of crusted, crystallized snow. The ice particles got underneath her pant leg, but she didn’t care. Her wet pants were already soaking up the cold. She kept running.
“Jessie!” she heard him scream, and she looked over her shoulder enough to see him coming after her. She made a sharp right, avoiding another pile of snow. She couldn’t see very far ahead, and she felt branches slash at her face, but she kept going. He was fat. He was old. Surely she could outrun him.
“Jessie!” he sounded farther away.
She pulled off the red hoodie sweatshirt as she ran and threw it to the side so that the color wouldn’t make her easy to spot in the trees. The cold air hit her hard now that she had only her T-shirt on, but she didn’t let it faze her. She pumped her arms as hard as she could, did her best to ignore the coldness around her, and wished she’d taken Britney’s advice to lose a few pounds. “Please help me, please help me, please . . .”
“Jessie!” He called again, closer this time. Her breath caught in her throat, and she made another sharp turn. Keep moving, the voice said again. Don’t stop.
“Jessie!”
77
Brad hung up the cell phone and glanced at Kate in the passenger seat. “They’ve informed the borders to be on the lookout. They’re pretty sure he’s heading for the Waterton crossing in Glacier National Park. It’s only been open since May first, it’s pretty remote, and the park isn’t very busy this time of year.”
“That’s good,” Kate said. “Did they recover anything else from the room?”
Brad shook his head. “Not that they would tell me. They were there the whole time—a few miles from the main resort. He paid in cash.”
Kate nodded, refusing to think of what that cabin might have been for Jess. “She’s got to be okay,” she whispered.
Brad reached over and took Kate’s hand. What could he say? They drove in silence for another twenty miles, until they passed a road sign that welcomed them to Idaho Falls. Had they been driving for only three hours?
“We missed the five o’clock prayer,” Kate pointed out.
Brad glanced at the dashboard and frowned.
“I’ll say it,” Kate offered. Brad nodded. They were seven minutes late, but hundreds of other people had been on time.
“Our Father in Heaven, we come to Thee again this day, the sixteenth birthday of our daughter Jessica, and ask that Thou wilt guide her footsteps, lead her to safety, and bring her home to us. We pray that she might know our love for her, forgive us our failings, and have faith in Thee during her times of trial. We pray for . . .”
78
There was no more air to breathe. Jess was barely moving, but kept going for fear that he was right behind her. Instead of running straight, she turned left and ran that way for awhile, then turned left again. Before she knew it, she was completely lost. She didn’t know where she’d been or what direction she was heading, but she didn’t care. Lost was good.
With racking breaths, she dropped to her knees, placed her palms on the wet, cold ground, and let her head fall forward. Her throat was so dry she couldn’t swallow anymore. Her tongue felt huge in her mouth. She worried she would choke if she tilted her head back. There was a patch of crusted snow not far to her left, and she stumbled over, digging through the dirty top layer before grabbing a handful and shoving it into her mouth. Her thoughts were swimming as she let the snow melt enough for her to swallow, but not so much that she didn’t realize the miracle that had just happened. She’d gotten away, and she had found water. “Thank you,” she said between gasps for air and swallows of melted snow. “Now, help someone find me.”
She waited until she could get air; then she got very still and listened. Was he following her? Was she near the road? Was there any other human in this forest?
The sun was going down, and the sky was gray. Though it was mid-May and spring at home, this place—wherever it was—still seemed trapped in wintertime except for a few patches here and there of new grass and some trees with tiny leaves popping out on their branches. What were the chances that someone would find her? Had she escaped only to die in the mountains? It was so cold, and all she could hear was the rustling of wind through the old leaves still stuck to the dead-looking trees. She would freeze to death if she didn’t find shelter. Survive! she told herself. Do whatever it takes to survive.
She bowed her head and prayed for guidance. She’d never prayed like she had the last twenty-four hours—once she’d gotten that drug out of her system. Prayer was truly all she had. After seeing the posters, she wondered if her family was praying too. The connection was powerful, and she prayed even harder.
When she finished, she felt no miraculous guidance, but she got up and kept moving. If she could find her way back to the road, maybe a car would drive by
. She didn’t even know what direction she was heading or which direction would be her best choice, but she wrapped her arms around herself and kept walking. She found a rock with moss on one side—north. But what good did north do her if she didn’t know where she was?
When she encountered a trail of some kind, her heart nearly leapt. A trail had to lead somewhere. She looked to the left and to the right, unable to tell which was the better choice. “Choose the right,” she told herself, knowing it was silly but needing some kind of help. She went right and walked as fast as she dared, her eyes darting back and forth in fear that he’d melt out of the trees at any moment. The sun continued to go down, and she got colder. All too soon it was dark, and she’d lost feeling in her toes and face. Survive! she said again. Just keep moving.