The Seventh Taking: A Mountain Mystery

by BJ Bourg

  “There’s no way out,” Mable said.

  I turned to face her. “What’s wrong with Charlie? Will he be okay?”

  Jillian, who had been missing the longest and should, by my estimation, be twenty-three years old, looked up from where she tended to Charlie. “He’ll be fine. He must’ve been given a large dose. He’ll start feeling better within a day or so.”

  “Large dose of what?” I asked.

  Jillian shrugged. “Chloroform, most likely. The stuff’s easy enough to make and everyone who comes in here says the mysterious white napkin that was cupped over their face smelled sweet.”

  “That happened to me, too.” I didn’t say anything about the bush because I didn’t want to sound crazy.

  I stared from one girl to the other. They all looked to be well fed and, for missing people, seemed in good spirits—except for Joy. It seemed the other girls had long ago accepted the fact they would be stuck down here for the rest of their lives. Joy had not.

  I pursed my lips. “I’ve got to get out of here. They’ll be looking for us, and if we’re underground, they’ll never find us.”

  “I know,” Jillian called from her cell. “That’s why he keeps us down here, so no one will ever find us.”

  “What about Brett? Was he brought here?”

  Joy frowned. “That kid who transferred from Arkansas?”

  I nodded.

  “We haven’t seen him.” Joy said. “What’s he doing out here?”

  “He came with me and Charlie.” They hadn’t seen Brett, which meant he was probably dead. My blood ran cold. This wasn’t a drill. This was the real deal. Charlie and I were trapped underground with four girls who were presumed dead. The finality and hopelessness of the situation settled like a bomb at the bottom of my stomach and exploded. I rushed to the bathroom. I tore back the curtain and dropped to my knees in front of a wooden bucket to vomit what little food I’d recently eaten. It was darker in the bathroom and I couldn’t tell if I got any on the floor. I wiped my mouth on the front of my shirt and slowly stood.

  “It happened to all of us,” Mable said from outside the curtain.

  I nodded and made my way back to the bars of our cell with Joy by my side. She grabbed my hand and squeezed tight. I had a million questions for her and the other girls, but didn’t know where to start. I suddenly remembered the boys who’d gone missing and Katherine Turner. “What about Woody Lawson, Dave Burke, and Katherine Turner?” I looked through the bars. “Are they in another cell?”

  Jillian shook her head. “They’re gone.”

  “They escaped?” I asked. “How?”

  Jillian shook her head slowly. “They’re dead.”

  I frowned. “What happened to them?”

  Charlie started moaning, turned to his side and heaved. Jillian grabbed a bucket while Jennifer guided Charlie’s head toward it. He vomited for several seconds. I began to shake and gripped the bars harder to conceal my nervousness. “Will he be okay?”

  Joy rubbed my shoulder. “He’ll be fine. Jillian knows what she’s doing. She told them how to take care of me.”

  When Charlie stopped vomiting and was lying comfortably on his back, I turned and walked to the sofa. It felt good to sit on something other than a hard rock. Joy jumped on the sofa to my left, Mable to my right.

  “It’s tradition,” Mable said. “You have to tell us everything.”

  Puzzled, I rotated my gaze from Joy to Mable, who sat like an eager buzzard waiting for me to die, and then back to Joy. “What is she talking about?”

  “We’ve been cut off from the world for a long time,” Mable said.

  “Some of us longer than others,” Jillian called from the other cell.

  “So,” Mable continued, “the new person has to tell us what’s been going on since we left.”

  Joy rolled her eyes. “They did it to me, too. I felt like I was being interrogated.”

  “Um, I…I don’t know where to start.” My thoughts raced. I had to find a way out of this place.

  “Start by telling us about you,” Jillian said. She sat facing our cell while she rubbed Charlie’s forehead with a wet rag. “It helps to break the ice.”

  “That’s really not necessary.” Mable shot her thumb at Joy. “She already told us everything about you.”

  I glanced sideways at Joy. “What’d you tell them? That I was a fool and an ass?”

  “No, I told them how great of a guy you are and how lucky I was to be your girlfriend.”

  That stung. I would’ve felt better had she trashed me.

  Mable slapped the floor in front of her. “What’s been happening out there? Any more terrorist attacks in the US? Killer hurricanes or tornadoes? What’s the big news of the day?”

  “This should be good.” Joy folded her arms across her chest. “I can’t wait to hear what you think is important in the world.”

  “Didn’t you update them already?” I asked.

  Joy nodded. “I gave them the important stuff. I’d love to hear things from your point of view.”

  “Um…a year ago Manny Pacquiao was robbed of his championship belts. It was one of the most—”

  “Who’s Manny Pac-cow?” Jennifer asked.

  “Is he the guy who won American Idol?” Mable asked.

  “American Idol…what? No.” I scowled at their ignorance of the subject. “He’s only the best boxer who ever lived.”

  “Boring,” Jennifer said. “Tell us something else.”

  “The Saints won the Super Bowl a little over three years—”

  “Dave already told us that,” Mable said. “Tell us something we care about. Any good movies coming out? New bands? Cool line of clothes or shoes? Stuff like that.”

  I scratched my head and tried to focus my thoughts on what news they might be interested in. “Part two of The Hunger Games is coming out next year. All the girls liked the first one.”

  “Did you say Hunger Games?” Jillian asked.

  “Yeah,” I said absently. “It’s about—”

  “We know what it’s about. It was the last book Katherine read before she was kidnapped. She told us all about it.” Jillian was leaning against the bars of her cell. “So, they made the books into some movies, eh? That’s wonderful. Who plays Katniss?”

  “Um, who’s Katniss?” I asked.

  “The main character,” Jillian said. “I thought you knew what it was about?”

  “I never actually saw it,” I admitted. “I heard the girls at school talking about it.”

  “You don’t know who plays her?” Mable asked.

  “I don’t know her name, but I think it’s the blue girl from the last X-Men movie,” I said.

  Mable clapped her hands. “Very good—that’s close enough. But we already know who plays her. Like Joy said, she updated us on the important things.”

  The girls talked among themselves about movies they had seen and books they’d read. I sat back and watched in awe, wondering how they could be so calm in this situation. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were sitting in their living rooms passing the time. Their voices slowly faded to a dull drone as my thoughts raced. Why weren’t they looking for a way out? Why weren’t they planning an escape?

  They didn’t look in a hurry to go anywhere, and that scared the heck out of me. Would that be me in a year from now? Drained of hope? Accepting my plight and resigning myself to living underground for the rest of my life? I’d read somewhere about this Stockholm syndrome thingy and I wondered if they suffered from it—wondered if their kidnapper had somehow connected with them and they were now on his side. If so, they might stifle our attempts at escaping.

  When there was a break in their conversation, I turned to Mable. “Who’s responsible for this? Who kidnapped us?”

  Mable shook her head. “We don’t know.”

  “What’s he look like?” I asked.

  “We don’t know,” Mable said. “We’ve never seen his face.”

  I stared across the w
ay at Jennifer and Jillian. “None of y’all?”

  They all shook their heads. Jillian looked at Jennifer and then back to me. “The only thing we know for sure is that he dresses like a giant bush.”

  “A bush?” I squinted, thinking back. It finally connected. “The thing that attacked me was wearing some kind of leafy suit. It makes sense now.”

  “What does?” Mable asked.

  “The suit allows him to get close to his victims without being detected, and it also helps him disappear.” I nodded, impressed. “It worked like a charm. I walked right beside him when he grabbed me—never even saw him coming. The same thing happened with Brett.”

  Charlie moaned and sat up in his cot. Jillian helped hold him steady. He looked dazed. I turned to Mable. “What happened to Woody, Dave, and Katherine?”

  “Woody died roughly two years ago,” Mable said.

  “How?” I asked.

  “He drowned. It was a bad idea. He’d been saying he thought he could find a way out of here through that little pool of water. He said it had to go somewhere.” Mable shook her head. “We tried to talk him out of it, but it was no use. He faked a seizure when Mr. Bush was bringing our food one day and—”

  “Wait,” I interrupted. “Y’all call this creature Mr. Bush?”

  “Yeah,” Mable said. “Is that a problem?”

  I smiled. “We call him Leaf Creature.”

  Mable smiled back. “Mr. Bush opened the door to check on him. Woody caught him by surprise and pushed him down and made a run for it.” Mable smiled, stared off into the distance. “I swear we could hear him giggle when he hit that water.”

  “He was going to be an Olympic swimmer,” Jennifer said. “He was like a fish in the water.”

  Mable nodded. “He used to stare at that pool of water every day, like a sad little puppy staring at the back door just waiting for his owners to come outside and play with him.”

  “He figured that water was the only way out of here,” Jillian said. “And he was right.”

  I looked around. “What water are y’all talking about?”

  Joy took my hand and led me to the far right of our cell and pointed to the back wall of the cavern, where a small pool of water was positioned.

  I gasped. “Where does it go?”

  “We don’t know,” Mable said.

  “He made it out of here?” I asked.

  “Yeah, but not the way you think,” Mable said.

  “He reappeared five days later,” Jillian said.

  My brows puckered. “Reappeared?”

  “His body floated to the surface five days after he jumped in,” Jillian said. “He was face down and swollen.”

  “And he stunk something awful,” Mable said. “Mr. Bush came down and took his body away that night.”

  I looked at the ceiling of the cavern. There was not even the slightest hint of light from the outside world. “How’d y’all know it was five days? I mean, how do you even keep track of time in here? Myself, I don’t know if I’ve been here one day or three.”

  Joy grabbed my hand again—I was starting to think she was looking for excuses to hold it, and I didn’t mind at all—and led me back to the door of our cell. She pointed toward Jillian’s cell. “Jill, show him.”

  Jillian walked to the curtain at the back of their cell and pulled it back. Above the horse trough that served as a bathtub, small lines had been scratched into the rocky wall of the cave—seven rows of marks. “Mr. Bush feeds us twice every day. The first meal is small and the second one is big, and we make one mark for every big meal we get.” Jillian pointed to the first mark on the first row. “I made that mark the very first day I was brought here.” She turned around, and I thought I saw her eyes glistening. “It seems like a lifetime ago.”

  Jennifer walked over and hugged her.

  Charlie was leaning on one elbow, swaying. “What’s going on here?” His speech was slurred.

  I moved to the bars of my cell. “How you feeling, buddy?”

  He looked up, squinted. “Abe? What’re you doing out of school?”

  “I came looking for you and—”

  Charlie lurched forward and vomited again. Jillian and Jennifer tended to him, and I turned away, not wanting to see my friend in that condition. As I squatted, I shook my head. “I should’ve come alone. I got Brett killed and look at Charlie. This was my cross to bear.”

  “You came out here to find Joy?” Jillian wanted to know.

  “Yeah. Everyone else gave up the search.” I stood and looked down at Joy. “I couldn’t live with myself. I had to come out here and try to find you—to make it right.”

  “You said there was an article about us?” Mable asked.

  I nodded, pointing first at Jillian and then at Jennifer. “According to the police, you’re both dead—killed by your boyfriends.”

  There was a collective gasp from both girls.

  “Are you serious?” Jillian asked.

  I nodded.

  “What about me?” Mable wanted to know.

  I went down the list, reciting everything I could remember from the online article Charlie had saved. When I was done, I asked about Dave and Jennifer.

  “Dave was the last one to get here,” Mable said. “Well, before you guys showed up. He was some kind of ghost hunter.” Mable shook her head. “Anyway, he fell ill. When Mr. Bush came down to feed us, we tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen. I guess he thought Dave was trying to trick him like Woody had. He was having none of it. Dave’s condition got worse and, about a week or so later, he died in his sleep.”

  “Did the bush believe y’all then?” I asked.

  Mable nodded. “He waited a couple of days before taking the body out.”

  “How long ago did Dave die?” I asked.

  “Recently—about three months ago.” Mable frowned, and I thought I saw a tear break free from her left eye and slide down her cheek. “We found Katherine hanging in the bathroom about a week later. She liked Dave and didn’t want to live without him.”

  I tried hard to control the panic creeping up into my throat, choking me. We could all die in this place, and no one would ever know what happened to us—just like Woody, Katherine, Dave, and Brett. My thoughts turned to my mom and dad. They would be out there handing out fliers, wondering what had happened, giving tearful press conferences. After a few weeks, we would be presumed dead, and they would return home. Dad would go back to work. Mom would go back to doing whatever it was she did when Dad was at work. The whole world would continue on, and we would eventually be forgotten by most and become a distant memory to those few who loved us.

  I heard a loud clanking sound down the hallway to the left. Joy grabbed my arm. “That’s him. It’s supper time.”

  I walked to the far left of our cell and craned my neck to see through the bars. There were metal rungs bolted into the rock wall. They formed a ladder that disappeared upward into a hole in the ceiling. Old hinges squeaked from somewhere far above and a beam of light shot down from the hole in the ceiling. Heavy boots thudded against the rungs and echoed ominously through the cavern as our captor made his way down into our prison.

  CHAPTER 17

  I watched with bated breath as one boot came into view and then the next. When he had descended all the way to the floor of the cavern, he turned and looked in my direction. I gulped out loud. He looked like he’d stepped straight out of a horror film. If I’d seen this guy walking around the swamps of Louisiana I would’ve sworn the Swamp Thing was real. His entire body was wrapped in leaves and tree branches, except for his face and his hands. He wore camouflage gloves and his face was wrapped in camouflage burlap with three slits cut into it for his eyes and mouth. He held a bucket in his left hand, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was filled with human body parts.

  He stepped toward my cell, and I instinctively backed away. I was angry at myself for being afraid. Joy and Mable huddled behind me, and Jillian and Jennifer cowered in a corner of their cel
l. Charlie was lying on his cot, moaning, oblivious to what was taking place.

  When the bush reached our cell, he pulled out three flat containers with lids out of the bucket and slid them under a gap in the bars. He then turned to the other cell and slid their food containers under the gap in their bars. He walked back to the rungs in the wall, disappeared upstairs for a few minutes, and returned with six canteens slung over his shoulder. He placed three on each side, then disappeared for good, slamming the hatch door shut with a finality that made me shudder.

  As soon as the hatch was shut, the girls moved to the containers and began pulling the tops off. Before taking a bite of their food, Jillian and Jennifer took a plate to Charlie, helped him sit up, and began feeding him. The smell of freshly cooked meat and gravy filled the cavern and made my stomach growl. Joy handed me a container and a fork, flashing her sweet smile. “I know he’s a bad guy and he’s scary, but he can really cook.”

  “He acts like we’re dogs.” I took the plate and examined the food. It looked like deer meat and gravy over rice and there were beans and a bread roll on the side. “How do we know he hasn’t poisoned the food?”

  “If so, we would’ve been dead years ago,” Jillian called from her cell.

  I nodded, took my seat with Joy and Mable, and tested the food on my plate. It was flavored to perfection, with just the right amount of salt. While I didn’t want to admit it, Joy was right—this mountain creep really could cook. We ate in virtual silence, the only sounds being the chomping of our teeth and the clanking of our forks against the containers. I twisted the top off my canteen and took a cautious sip. Lemonade. I tossed it back and drank nearly half of it in the first gulp. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten this well.

  After supper, I watched Jillian walk to the back of her cell and scratch another mark into the wall. “It’s been almost seven years since I was abducted.”

  No one commented, so I kept my own mouth shut. Mable stood from the table and turned to me. “Slip the containers, canteens, and silverware back through the bars. He’ll be back soon to take them away. If anything’s missing, there’ll be hell to pay.”