by Devon Ashley
I shook my head and sat up – extremely gently. I had to find Megan. I snatched the bottle of painkillers he passed me, swallowing several dry. “Tell me. Were you able to get something off it?”
He huffed. “Not me, but I’ve met a bunch of hackers online through the years. One of them is into this security shit like we are, except he’s got the real computer skills to back it up. I don’t want to get too technical because I’d suck at explaining it anyway, but he’s come across a similar GPS locater before. I gave him the frequency your tracker was set to, then I opened it up and found a serial number. Took him a few hours, but he found out who manufactured this particular model.” Carlos was giggling now. Absolutely fucking giddy. “Then the fucker hacked into the software program that receives the transmittal your ass was giving off.”
He slapped the back of my shoulder. I cringed, the vibration felt all the way down to my cut. “We were right, man.” He pointed to the tracker on his desk, now split into two pieces and clapped his hands once. “You’ve got a week’s worth of memory on this bitch.”
My mouth dropped. With disbelief, I cried, “You’re fucking kidding me. You know where Megan is?”
Carlos’ smile got even bigger. “You my friend, have been on the move for the better part of a day, but before that, your signal never moved once.” He turned excitedly to the computer screen behind him, already showing a satellite image of green trees, parts of a dark brown roof visible through the patches. Just eyeballing the actual outline, I could picture the layout in my eyes, my mind focusing on the northwest end, where Megan was most likely this very moment.
“That’s it. Where is this?”
He zoomed out, showing a forest east of Seattle, a little bit north of Highway 2. “Little more than two hours from here.”
Shit. And only like an hour from our house. That asshole set up shop right under our noses!
With directions and coordinates in my pocket, I slipped my sneakers back on. They’d convinced me to stay long enough to get some actual food in me – which made my stomach feel so saturated I wanted to throw up – but now I was ready to go after Megan.
“You got a gun here I can use?” Ours were missing. Wasn’t sure if that was the police’s doing or his, but I gathered the latter. What fun it would be to shoot me with my own gun if it had gone down that way.
Carlos let loose an annoyed sigh while Miguel watched him unlatch it from beneath the top of his desk, where his legs slid in to work. He laid the Glock on the table between us, his hands still holding it down. Seriously looking into my eyes, he said, “Man, don’t do this. Call the police. That guy is fucking loco.”
“Two hours. Please. That’s all I’m asking for. Give me a head start so I have the chance to put a bullet in that goddamn head of his.” And if he caught me, I wanted to be inside that house with Megan when the police showed up. “If I fail, the cavalry’s right behind me.”
He muttered something in Spanish that I couldn’t pick up on, but I got the gist of his disappointment nonetheless.
I had given him the precinct number that handled our case before. I wasn’t sure which precinct took the lead in our current missing persons’ case, but I wasn’t going to take the time to figure it out. Someone there would be able to direct him to the person in charge of our file.
“Carlos, I hate to ask, but I need one more thing. I need to trade cars with you for the night.”
With a new set of keys in my hands, I thanked him for the gun and disposable phone, for which they sold up front, and headed out through the showroom. The store had closed two hours ago so it was empty and the lights were dimmed. Walking past the display cases, a selection of stun guns caught my attention, particularly the smallest one, which would easily fit in the palm of my hand. I scooped up the display model and flicked the switch. There was a hint of sound coming off of it, but not much. I turned it off and pocketed it, figuring it might be a decent last stand if the gun was taken from me. And it hardly even showed in my pocket. You’d have to really focus in to determine there was a slight bulge taking shape there.
I hid the gun in my jeans as I headed to the car. Sunday evening was a snooze here. Most of the lot was empty of cars, the walkways completely bare, one or two lights on each store to keep them a little lit through the night. It only took half an hour to get to Highway 2. Another half hour and I was passing the exit that would’ve taken me home. I shook my head in disbelief. I couldn’t believe that asshole was this close to us the whole time. What was that saying? Keep your enemies closer? Hell if he didn’t do it. As vigilant as we always were at scanning our environment, afraid he’d get the jump on us, we never would’ve figured he was practically our damn neighbor.
My borrowed car had GPS, but I didn’t dare use it for some reason. I guess I wanted to stay off the radar as much as possible. No telling what twisted means this guy had at his disposal. Maybe simply looking up his address sent up a red flag and binged him. I had to go slow once I turned off the highway. I knew his lane was roughly about five miles up, but these weren’t traditional roads. They were merely dirt and gravel and small breaks in the forest you could miss very easily. But his was easy to spot, because a gate closed off his lane. I parked on the road and went to examine it. It was a simple catch and release, so I swung it open and drove through, getting out to close it again behind me. It was a good mile of private road to his house, and I found a break in the trees halfway up to pull off in. Obviously, I couldn’t just pull right up to the house.
I tucked my phone in my back pocket, left the keys above the sun visor and left the car unlocked. With the Glock in my hand, I made my way to the house, sticking to the trees along the lane. But once I got there, I saw something unsettling. The garage door was open, two cars pulled inside. Did he always keep that open? Or did he know I was here?
I cursed inside my head. I hadn’t been entirely certain how I was going to get inside his house, but this was too easy. It felt too much like a trap. As much as it pained me, the best thing I could do was go back to the car, call Carlos and wait for the police.
I quietly moved backwards, watching the exterior house lights getting smaller in the distance until I couldn’t see them anymore. Two minutes later I was at the break where I hid my car. As I reached for the door handle, I heard a click behind me and froze.
One…two…three…
How long until he blew my head off?
“Carefully, put the gun on top of the car.” I swore out loud and did what he said. “Now put your hands on the back of your head and walk towards me.”
I released a reluctant sigh. At least he hadn’t just shot me in the head and been done with it. I turned around and walked towards him, stopping in the middle of the lane. With the gun aimed at me the whole way, even when he moved to retrieve the one I left behind, irritation smothered his face.
“How did you know?” I asked. “I had the tracker dug out of my leg.”
“I know. But did you really think I’d let you go home and not keep track of what you were doing for a while? I told the man who took you there to return the tracer to both of your cars. And for good measure, he followed along for a while.”
“For a while?” I asked cautiously. I had a bad feeling about that.
“He had to hang back and take care of the two men at the security store. Sorry. Hope they weren’t good friends.”
Remorse filled my insides, making me ache all across my chest. I didn’t know them. At all. But they opened their door and helped me regardless. “You killed them?” I whispered, still disbelieving his words.
“I didn’t do jack shit. You involved them. You got them killed. At least now Natalie can’t hold it over my head that I didn’t offer you a reprieve. It’s not my fault you didn’t stay gone.”
He waved his gun toward the house. “Move.”
I began making my way up the lane, expecting at any moment for him to put a bullet in my back. But the closer we got, the less my heart panicked, realizing he wasn’t g
oing to shoot me just yet. I hung my head the moment I realized that Carlos and Miguel wouldn’t have been able to defend themselves without their gun, and they were probably killed long before they had the chance to call the police for me. I closed my eyes and sighed, stumbling along blindly for a moment. Carlos was right. I should’ve just called the police straight away. But my damn arrogance and pride got in the way. Now I was right back at square one again, except this time Zander had an incredibly itchy trigger finger.
I couldn’t help but think he hadn’t acknowledged the guy who actually hacked into the system and gave me this address. Was he safe, or did Zander send someone to take care of him, too? I was afraid to ask in case it hadn’t occurred to him yet.
“How did you know I was here?” I asked curiously. “I traded out my car.”
“Very smart of you, but still not enough to get the jump on me. My gate may look simple, but there’s a trigger that notifies me every time it’s opened.”
Fuck.
Once we reached the glow of the exterior house lights, he ordered me to stop. “Lift your shirt and spin.” I did, realizing he was checking me for weapons. I fought the urge to see if the stun gun in my pocket was obvious or not. “Now roll your jeans up a bit.” I did that as well, proving I hadn’t strapped anything to my legs either. Then I returned my hands to my head and he motioned me to enter the garage. Once he bypassed the door, he said, “To the dining room, sunshine.”
Why did he come back alone? I never intended on him doing that, or even coming with the police. I just wanted him to have Carlos and Miguel try to track me down and hand over the information. Not fucking come here by himself!
My cheeks were moist from tears. I hadn’t really stopped crying since Zander slapped the shit out of me this morning. Said he had a man listening in at the security store and Nick was having his tracker cut out. But that wasn’t the real issue. Carlos knew a guy who was able to hack into the software and trace backwards on Nick’s GPS tracker. Nick and those guys knew where we were and Zander had to go on damage control. He cuffed me to the floor on the rug so I wouldn’t have any slack and threatened to deal with me later. Twenty minutes ago he came back and brought me down to the dining room, where he used real metal handcuffs to attach me to a chain I never even saw before beneath the table. I couldn’t go farther than five feet in any direction from the center out and I’d have to crawl under the table just to get to another side. So I just backed myself to the far wall and curled into the chair opposite where Zander normally sat.
Nick was the first one through the door, his hands behind his head, grief and sorrow reflecting off his face as his eyes met mine. Zander made him sit at the opposite end of the table, but he didn’t handcuff him down like me. He only had to keep his palms on the table at all times.
I swept the tears from my face. Silently, I mouthed I’m so sorry. I never should’ve put it in his head that he might be able to find me. He wouldn’t be here now if I hadn’t. And he looked so defeated. He was supposed to run free, be the one person to get away from this nightmare. And now he was back. At the mercy of a psychopath who wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him.
I was a fool to think my plan would work. The house always wins. Now we were right back where we started, except this time Zander was pissed as hell.
Neither of us dared to even clear our throats as Zander paced back and forth between us, his glare mostly focusing on Nick. After several passes, he finally stopped and leaned over the back of a chair between us.
“Where’s your phone?”
Nick’s head dipped, slowly swaying right then left, like he was trying to figure it out himself. “In my front left pocket.”
Zander stepped closer to Nick, placing the gun on the side of his head. “Pull it out and hand it to me.
“Slowly,” he urged, just as Nick’s hand disappeared beneath the table. Ten seconds later it was in Zander’s possession and Nick’s hands were back on the table, his saddened eyes boring into mine. Now he was the one silently mouthing apologies.
“Do you know how easy it is to hear inside someone’s home or place of business? Even just sitting in your car? My man heard everything that was said between the three of you, so of course he had to take care of them.” Zander stepped farther back as his thumb repeatedly pressed and swiped across the screen. Finding nothing useful, or in this case, worthy of putting a hole in him just yet, he laid it on the table and smashed it several times with the butt of his gun. “No. Loose. Ends. This is a fucking house of cards. One slip and it all comes crashing down.”
It dawned on me then what damage control meant to Zander. He’d eliminate anyone who jeopardized his idea of sanctuary. My stomach twisted and my intestines knotted as I thought about Carlos and Miguel. Innocent bystanders who were only trying to help. The world needed more people like them and I just caused both their deaths.
To Nick, he said boldly, “I really want to blow your fucking head off right now.”
My heart pounded against my chest, my lungs suddenly trying to burst through my ribs with painful repetition. My voice finally found the courage to cry out when the barrel of the gun made contact with Nick’s chest. Their eyes locked onto one another, Zander ordered, “Give me one good reason not to.”
My breath caught. Dumbfounded, Nick barely put cohesive syllables together, none of which actually created a real word. Zander pressed the gun harder. My chest was burning from lack of oxygen, my body so still it refused to let even one component fulfill its responsibility. Zander just stared at him, and for the first time ever, Nick actually looked frightened.
My poor heart was about to quit on me. I seriously think my hyperventilating lungs were bringing in too much oxygen now, because I was getting light-headed and nauseous. “Nothing? So you’re looking for permanent residency in my backyard then, because you sure gave up your freedom pretty damn quickly.”
“No!” I cried out, my feet stumbling to life, awkwardly lifting me up. No more death!
But it wasn’t me he continued pointing the gun at. “Sit. The fuck. Down.”
“Please,” I begged, “don’t...”
“I dare you to finish that sentence,” he replied cruelly, slowly creeping towards me, anger beginning to boil over his features. I was locked in place. I knew I should sit, but my legs just didn’t get the message, and with all the shaking, I couldn’t believe they managed to hold their ground.
I swallowed hard when his hand slid over my shoulder. But he didn’t shove me down like I thought he would. His hand continued to slither up my neck until he grasped my jaw in a death grip. I could sense Nick squirm across the table. Zander’s gun aimed straight for him, but the words he quietly said in my ear was for me alone. “You, Natalie, have played all your cards. There will be no more negotiations. No more choices. From here on out you do as I say. Fail me even once…” His fingers dug even deeper, pressing deep into my bone, making my tears shoot out like a damn fountain. “Right now, he’s got a one way ticket to Friggs’ house stamped on his ass.”
He released me and I collapsed to the chair in tears. Even through the viscous liquid, I saw Nick bury his head in his hands, but I doubt he heard any of that, or even understood it if he did. Why the hell didn’t he run? Why the hell couldn’t he stay gone? I’d given up so much to free him. And now…he might lose it all if Zander decided to send him instead of me.
The gun blasted beside me. It happened so quickly I couldn’t even scream in time.
The bullet ripped through the air, smashing into the table within inches beside me. Eyes wide, I shoved my chair back, skidding at least three feet, the chair toppling over with me still in it. Megan’s scream was muffled halfway through.
Aghast, I was heaving on the floor, images of my mother and father and Megan flashing before my eyes, looking up at the small hole in the table. Then towards Megan, whose chest was racing as fiercely, his hand cupped over her mouth. He pushed the gun against her temple, making her squeeze her eyes shut.
“That was your very last warning. Next time it’s a direct shot to your head.”
It took a few seconds, but my head moved up and down, quivering instead of nodding.
He unclamped Megan from her handcuffs. “Alright, everyone up,” Zander ordered, motioning his gun for us to rise. I led the way with Megan on my heels. He followed farther back, smart enough to be weary of the both of us lucid and free. But I sensed that shot to the table was exactly for the purpose of keeping us in line right now.
A few feet shy of the room I was expected to enter, I felt two hands slam against my backside.
“Why the hell did you come back?” Megan screamed. I turned, only to be assaulted more as she beat her hands against my chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You were free! Do you have any idea what I had to give up for you?!”
My back flat against the wall, I let her keep throwing herself at me. So did the asshole with the gun, who hung back watching us like a bad episode of Jerry Springer.
“Why the hell would I want to be free if you’re locked away the rest of your life?!” I yelled back. “Did you really think I’d just let this go and move on with a new life without you?! Who the fuck do you take me for?”
Her assault finally relented, but only so her arms could wave up and down like she was a four year old throwing a hissy fit. “When are you going to realize you CAN’T SAVE ME?!”
“When are you going to realize I CAN’T NOT TRY?!” I turned to the asshole with the gun and yelled, “Put a goddamn bullet in my head, because I will never just let you lock her away like this! I’ll never stop coming for her.”
Megan looked frantically between the two of us. Zander shrugged his face like yeah, okay, consider it done and Megan screamed, “WHAT? NO!!!”
“Enough,” he said calmly. He waved his gun again. “Megan. Go wait in our room.”
Every muscle in her body seemed to slacken. Her face fell, her shoulders slumped, her legs wobbled slightly. “Zander,” she said softly in a pleading tone, “Please, don’t.”