Survivor

by J. F. Gonzalez

  The detectives who had been questioning her traded glances with each other and said nothing.

  She had been a nervous wreck throughout the whole ordeal, and after a while they eased off on the questioning. They had vague descriptions of suspects and a description of the van, and that went out over the bulletin. They tried questioning her more in the days that followed, but every time they did Lisa could offer them nothing new. Besides, every time they took her down that line of questioning, she would start crying, becoming hysterical. It was obvious to the detectives working the case that she had been emotionally traumatized by her abduction, and she was, only it wasn't the way they thought.

  Her parents, who had flown out to Orange County from Iowa, had broken down and wept at the news that she had been found. Brad's parents had been equally happy-his mother had displayed her relief the same way both of Lisa's parents had. His dad took it the way he usually took good news; all the weight of stress and worry that he had been carrying seemed to ease off his shoulders, and he wandered around the hospital while Lisa was being examined, looking tired, then relieved, then happy for Brad, then worried again. "1 just hope she's going to be all right," he said when Brad asked how he was. Father and son traded smiles; Dad's looking a little bit more worn for the wear after being awake for the past two days.

  During the past two weeks, she had been brooding and silent. She went back to work after a week, but managed only one full day of work before asking for a onemonth leave of absence. She was still traumatized by the incident, and she needed time to get herself together. Her boss, George Brooks, had been absent from the office on a business trip when she returned, so the request had gone to one of the other partners. The leave was granted and she spent her days in front of the television, watching talk show after talk show, her mind always elsewhere. Her nerves were always twisting and turning in on themselves, her mind weighing heavily on what she had done to save herself and her and Brad's unborn baby.

  Brad was looking at her from across the living room. "Are you sure you don't want me to call that therapist Detective Morse recommended? I can make an appointment for the both of us."

  Lisa stared blankly at the television. "1 don't know," she said morosely. "Let me think about it."

  Brad regarded her silently. In the days that had fol lowed the nightmare, Brad had been overwhelmed with joy at having her back. He was also overwhelmed with joy at the news of her pregnancy. He had been so happy that he'd gone bustling around the house rearranging things, making plans to turn the spare bedroom into a nursery, talking to her about starting up a college fund. Lisa hadn't told Brad yet about the money she had taken out of their savings account and her IRA; she had intercepted both pieces of mail from the bank verifying the transactions, and she supposed she would have to tell him something eventually. After all, he would notice. She just wasn't sure when she should tell him about what really happened. She had to make sure that if she did he would abide by her wishes and not tell anybody. He would have to agree that they go away, that they pack up and leave and start a new life somewhere far away.

  Become new people, with new identities. They could do it.

  "Are you sure you don't want to talk to me?" Brad asked, scooting closer to her on the sofa. His features were soft and open. "You look like you have a lot on your mind you want to talk about."_

  She looked up at him and forced a smile. "I'm fine… really, I'm fine. It's just..-."

  "It's still on your mind? Isn't it?"

  Lisa nodded, mouth set in a bloodless grimace. Her stomach rolled in her belly and the nausea returned. Morning sickness, she thought, as the next wave hit her deep, making her cringe. It's just morning sickness that's making me feel so bad, that's all, just-

  If it was morning sickness, she had been having it since the day Brad picked her up at USC Medical Center. If it was morning sickness, it hit her strongest whenever she thought about what she had done to save herself and their unborn baby.

  The guilt was weighing down heavily on her more and more as the days went by.

  And with it came the pain in her abdomen.

  The only reason she was alive today was that her abductors had found another to take her place. To spare her life, and the life of the unborn baby growing in her womb, she had offered Alicia and her baby girl Mandy as ritual sacrifices. The image that stayed in her mind the most was the look on Alicia's face when Lisa had surprised her near the entrance of the same restaurant she and Brad had met her. That look of surprise as Alicia recognized her, the look of hope flooding her features as she swallowed the story Animal told her-that he was a friend of Lisa and Brad's, and that the three of them had done some thinking and decided to put Alicia and her baby up in a motel until she could get on her feet. All she needed to do was follow them this way-Brad was waiting in the car-and then the look of utter surprise as they got to the van and Tim popped out from behind the door as Animal ushered Alicia inside, clamping the chloroform-drenched rag over her mouth and nose, pushing her inside the van, Lisa grabbing the handle of the baby's car seat before it could crash to the ground. For a brief instant, she glimpsed the expression on Alicia's face and her eyes seemed to light on Lisa's, terrorstricken and asking Why?

  It was that look she had to ignore as she'd fought Animal for her life outside the van.

  That look on Alicia's face was on Lisa's mind constantly now. It chased her into the night, keeping her from sleep.

  "Are you sure you don't want to talk about anything?" Brad asked again.

  Lisa shook her head, fighting back the tears. She wanted so much to tell him everything, but she was afraid.

  If you tell anybody-and / mean anybody-/ will fucking find you, and you and your family are going to wind up as playthings for Animal in a film. You got that?

  1 just wanted to save my baby…

  Lisa felt the tears coming. "No. " she said, her voice trembling. "No.. "

  The look in Alicia's eyes before the chloroform rendered her unconscious. Why?

  The screaming of Alicia's infant daughter, Mandy, growing dim as Lisa ran away from the van… the thought of that baby crying as Tim drove away, the sound of that baby's cries still lingering in her haunted mind.

  Lisa began to cry, deep sobs that burst from her gut. She doubled over from the force of them. She had only wanted to save her own baby. She had only wanted to save the wonderful life she was building with Brad. She had only wanted to give her own unborn baby-tea baby she and Brad had sacrificed so much for and had gone through hell to conceive-a chance at life. 'chinking about this, thinking about the fact that she had so easily turned Tim and his murderous group onto an innocent woman and her infant daughter, all to appease the faceless group of perverts who paid big money to satisfy their sadistic urges, was more devastating to her than she had ever expected.

  "Lisa" Brad's voice was filled with concern. He knelt down beside her, touching her knee gently. "Hey, it's okay, honey. You're safe now. Everything's going to be all right!

  Lisa shook her head, the tears flowing more freely now. The sobs were coming from deep within her, pouring from the depths of her soul. "No, it's not." She felt an other sudden pain in her abdomen, this one more penetrating, and she began to cry harder. It was a cry of loss. "No, it's not going to be all right. It's never going to be all right"

  Lisa Miller was beginning to bleed.

  After they returned home from the hospital to deal with the miscarriage shortly after midnight, Lisa Miller told her husband what really happened.

  Everything.

  Part Two

  DOWN WITH THE SICKNESS

  Nineteen

  "Please don't say anything!" Lisa was crying. She had been crying for the past thirty minutes as she spun the narrative out.

  Brad hadn't been able to sit still through Lisa's sudden confession. He had paced the floor of the master bedroom where Lisa was lying in bed, feeling his shock, fear, and anger grow as the story went from its harrowing beginnings to its desperate conc
lusion.

  "Please don't hate me!" Lisa cried. She buried her face in her hands, bawling.

  "Honey," Brad said. He went to her bedside and tried to take her in his arms as she sat hunched over. "I could never hate you."

  "I killed them!" she cried.

  "Lisa," Brad began. He didn't know what to say. He was at a loss for words.

  killed them!" Lisa said. She pounded the mattress with her fist over and over. "I killed them and our child is dead and it's my fault!"

  "It is not your fault!" Feeling a sudden burst of anger at the man who had been responsible for the near murder of his wife, Brad gripped Lisa's shoulders. "Look at me!"

  Lisa raised her tear-streaked face to his. She had been crying for days, and her face was red and damp. Brad looked into her eyes, gripping her upper arms firmly. "You did not kill them. They killed them, not you. You tried to save Alicia and Mandy. Okay?"

  "But I failed!" She broke down sobbing. She collapsed into his arms. "I failed and they died because of me, and I still couldn't… still couldn't save our baby!"

  "I know," Brad said, holding her, just wanting to protect her and love her. "I know, honey. But the important thing is that you saved yourself. You got yourself out of there. That's all that matters now."

  They remained that way for a while. Lisa sobbed and Brad held her, stroking her hair. He told her he loved her. He told her he was glad that she was safe and sound and in his arms.

  In time, Lisa's sobs trickled down. She wiped her upper lip with the back of her hand. Despite the long day, Brad didn't feel the least bit tired. Their day had started at seven A.M., and it was now well past two A.M. He had taken Lisa to the hospital shortly after three P.M. and she had been discharged at eleven-thirty. The doctor had instructed them that Lisa needed three days of bed rest, and had prescribed a mild sedative to help her sleep. Lisa had taken one but had been unable to sleep. All she had been able to do was cry.

  "I feel so bad," Lisa said. She looked up at Brad. Her eyes were red. "Do you understand how I feel? I feel so… so violated."

  Brad nodded. "I understand."

  Lisa leaned into his embrace again. "I feel worse than a rape victim," she said, her voice muffled slightly through his shirt. "Even though they didn't… didn't do anything to me…"

  "I know," Brad said, holding her.

  And I'm so scared," Lisa said. "And I feel so guilty. 'chat's… that's one of the reasons why 1 had to tell you. It was just… just eating me up inside."

  Brad held her, just listening. As much as he wanted to help her, he knew that what she was feeling would have to be sorted out by her.

  "I just don't want you to hate me for what I did " she said, her voice a low whisper. "Please don't hate me."

  "1 don't hate you," Brad said. He kissed the top of her head. "I would have done the same thing.'

  "You would've?" A sharp intake of breath, as if she were surprised.

  "Yes." A sharp pang of guilt and shame stabbed him in the gut; would he have done the same thing? Nbuld he have done something so… so harsh? So cruel?

  She sniffled. "So you don't think I'm a monster?"

  "No. If anybody's a monster, it's those men.* Brad felt his anger return. And with it came fear.

  "I had to get it off my chest," she said. "But I also don't want you to… to say anything. I don't want them to come after us."

  *They won't"

  "Please don't say anything," Lisa said. She looked up at him again, her face pleading.

  "Everything will be okay." Brad kissed her. "You need to get some sleep" He glanced at the dock. It had been more than four hours since she had taken a sedative, so it would be safe for her to have another. In fact, she could take two of them, the doctor had said. "Why don't I get you your pills and some water so you can sleep." "

  Lisa leaned back against the pillows. For the first time since they arrived home from the hospital, she looked tired. "I could use maybe one pill. All of a sudden, I feel so tired."

  "Talking probably helped," he said. He caressed her hand. "I'll be right back."

  He went into the master bathroom and drew a cup of water for her and got her a pill. He returned and handed the pill to her. She drank it down with a swallow of water. He replaced the glass on the bureau. He drew the covers up over her and turned off the bedside lamp. "Try to get some sleep," he said. "I'll be in a little later."

  "You don't hate me?"

  "I don't hate you."

  Lisa let out another small cry. "I'm so sorry."

  Brad kissed her and held her close. "It's okay," he whispered.

  Lisa cried for a little bit, then quieted down. The last thing she said before she drifted off to sleep was "Please don't say anything. Please don't. "

  Brad knelt beside her and held her hand, watching as she descended into a deep sleep. When he was sure she was sleeping soundly, he exited the master bedroom and went into the living room to call William Grecko.

  William Grecko answered the phone on the third ring. "'Lo." His voice was groggy.

  "Billy, it's Brad."

  "Brad" William's voice perked up. "What's up? Christ, it's… it's after two in the morning. Is everything okay?"

  "I need to talk," Brad said, resisting the urge to blurt everything out to Bill now "Can you come over?"

  "I… yeah, I guess I can. What… what's going on?"

  "Please, just come over. I need to talk, Billy, I really need help. You're the only person I can trust."

  "Is it Lisa? Is she all right?"

  "We lost the baby"

  There was silence for a brief moment. "Oh, Brad." Billy's tone was sad. "I'm so sorry." -

  "Ibere's more to it than that. I can't talk about it on the phone because I think I'm going to lose my mind if I do. Please come over."

  "I'll be there in thirty minutes"

  When he hung up, Brad went into the kitchen and found a bottle of Jim Beam and two glasses. He poured the whiskey into both glasses, then brought them to the living room. He turned a lamp on in the living room and sat down to wait for William Grecko to arrive.

  And while he waited, he drank.

  And thought.

  William Grecko arrived thirty minutes later, right on schedule.

  Brad ushered him inside. "Want a drink?"

  William had thrown on a pair of blue jeans and a white polo shirt. His hair was uncombed. His eyes were red, his features still puffy from being woken out of a sound sleep. "Um, yeah," he said, licking his lips. "1 guess I could. Urn, you know I'm trying to quit, Brad…"

  "Have a drink," Brad said, handing Billy the glass he had poured for the lawyer.

  Billy took the glass. He looked nervous. "Really, Brad, um… I know I'm a fuckup, but I really am trying to quit. I'm an alcoholic, for God's sakes"

  "We both know that six months from now you'll be back to drinking again," Brad said, pouring himself another glass. "One drink isn't going to hurt you. Besides, you're going to need it after hearing what I have to tell you'

  William hesitated, then took the glass.

  "I have something to tell you," Brad said, walking into the living room. He sat down in his favorite easy chair and motioned for William to sit down. "It's something Lisa told me this evening, when we got home from the hospital. It… it has something to do with some of the… inconsistencies of her story"

  "Yes?" William leaned forward, looking both curious and afraid of the look on Brad's face. A week ago, the detectives handling the case had mentioned to Brad that there were some inconsistencies in Lisa's story that had them concerned. Brad had responded angrily, telling the cops that Lisa had been fucking kidnapped goddamnit! She was the fucking victim! Billy had been present during the brief meeting and had calmed Brad down. Later, the lawyer had met with the detectives and told Brad what had them concerned. "They think her story doesn't add up," he'd told Brad. "They say it's highly unlikely that they would have let her live. That they would have killed her."

  Brad had responded angrily and th
e detective on the case, a guy named Paul Orr, had backed off, saying he'd be in contact again the following week. Now that Brad had had time to think about Lisa's story and what she'd told the police originally, he could see the holes in her official statement on the crime. "Lisa told me everything," he began. "It… it's very similar to what she told the original officers, but…"

  He told William. And as Brad spun the story out he could see the color drain from Bill's face. The lawyer set the glass down, his mouth agape as Brad told him what her original kidnapper's purpose was. "Oh my God," he said.

  '"There's more." Brad quickly told the lawyer about Debbie Martinez, the arrival of Animal, and the cinematographer, Al. He told Billy about the long night Lisa had spent with Debbie, wondering if she was going to be next. When Brad got to the part about Lisa's desperate plea for her life and her bringing up the homeless woman they had run into on the first day of their trip, Billy's hand went up to his mouth. His eyes were wide with terror. "Oh my God, please don't tell me what I think she… she…"

  "She told them she'd lead them to this woman and her baby," Brad said. His voice sounded dead. He felt dead. He drained the rest of his drink. "She said they could have this woman and her baby in exchange for her own life. And she offered them money. All the money in our savings account.'

  And… and they went for it?" William's face was damp with sweat.

  *Yes. They took her in their van and she got the money. Then she… led them to.. "

  "Oh fuck," Billy said. He hadn't taken another sip since Brad had begun, but now he drained the entire contents of the glass. "Where's the rest of that bottle?'

  Brad got up to retrieve the bottle. When he brought it back, William took it and refilled his glass. Billy's hand shook as he poured the whiskey. He looked like he had just seen a horrible car accident. "Jesus Christ, Brad," William said, drinking down half of the glass's contents. "Jesus fucking Christ!"