by J. P. Grider
Wringing my hands together because I’m so nervous, I realize I can’t sit still. I get up and start screaming. Someone has to be out there who will hear me. My scream echoes, but I alone here it. Not knowing much about icehouses, I’m sure if they were built solid enough to keep ice cold…they’d effectively keep sounds from escaping. That means no matter how loud I strain my voice, it’ll be in vain.
Resigned to save my voice since it won’t do any good to scream, I sit back against the wall, close my eyes, and pray for sleep. But it’s impossible, I’m too wound up. Repositioning myself to somehow get comfortable, my hand lands upon something small and cool. A black iPod Shuffle…one of those small square things. White ear buds are attached to it. After inspecting them for cleanliness, I put them in my ears and press play.
The first two songs are two of my favorites from Ed Sheeran. I let out a sigh and silently thank Storm for at least leaving me with some music to keep me calm.
**
When the playlist starts all over, I figure several hours have passed. I don’t know if that means it’s another day or if it is still the same day, but I’m really worried about my parents. How are they handling this? They are not going to understand all this empath danger stuff. God…I don’t even understand it, and I’ve had a little more time to adjust to the idea. I feel my eyes begin to water, but I hold back the tears. Now they just feel as if they’re stuck in my throat.
Footsteps creak above me, getting louder as they approach the door at the top of the steps. Storm is coming back. Though I’m not sure what to believe, I can’t wait to see him. The footfall on the steps is much heavier than Storm’s. Crawling up the wall with my back, I sidestep the wall to get further away. Those feet do not belong to Storm.
“Looking for your boyfriend?” the masked man asks. “Or should I say…your boyfriend’s brother?”
I can see his smirk through the mouth hole on his mask.
“Your little friend got caught.”
Oh my goodness. Storm.
“Yup. Shame on him trying to pull one over on the old Gaffer.” The man laughs. “Yup.” He nods his head. “Let me tell ya’…your other little boy toy better come up with that elixir…otherwise the old man is going to be concocting a new one with you alls blood.” He guffaws again.
Those tears that were caught in my throat are forcing themselves out from my eyes. My bottom lip hurts from the intensity at which I’m biting it. Storm is dead. Ethan’ll be next. Oh my god. I drop down to the floor against the far wall. Sinking my head in my hands I cry and cry and cry. My parents will never see me again.
“I got instructions to leave you some water and a roll. Make it last. It’ll be a while before I come back.” The big bad wolf turns and walks up the stairs, laughing all the way up…before the door locks shut.
So many thoughts are running through my mind right now. Aside from my poor mom and dad, I can’t help but feel bad that I doubted Storm. I know he’s gruff on the outside, but his insides are all mush. I should have known he was only helping us. Clutching my heart, I sob all over again. The cement wall is unforgiving when I drop my head back in a crying fit. Stars circle my head in a cartoonish manner before I fall to the floor…not unconscious but dizzy. My tears continue to drop to the floor, and curling up into the fetal position, I pray for someone to save me…from my pain.
I don’t want to be an empath anymore – it hurts too much. Whether I’m hurting for someone else or hurting because these stupid empaths are in danger…I just don’t want to hurt anymore. Besides…what good comes out of it? I can heal people, but then I’m out of commission for like days. Ethan says I’m going to die anyway. So really…what good does being an empath do me? I’m not a selfish, narcissistic human being, but how much torture and pain can one person endure? Praying that God takes my abilities away is the last thing I remember before falling into a deep, pitying sleep.
**
An unfamiliar anxiety jolts me awake. Like a snake coiling its limbless length around and around my gut, this strong sense of imminent danger is new to me. This is not my anxiety. Someone is near. Closing my eyes to concentrate, I take a deep breath in and hold it – allowing the outsider’s emotions to take residence inside me. Not so I can take their impending doom away but to try to gather whose emotions they are. He’s afraid – more so than I am. If my feelings are correct, Ethan is nearby.
Running for the stairs, I fall up the first step…my body is tight from lack of movement. I pick myself up and take one step at a time. I bang on the door at the top. Banging. Banging. Banging. “Ethan,” I yell as loud as I can. “Ethan...Ethan…Help…Help.” I take a deep breath and bang harder – so hard I know there will be a bruise on the outside of my hands later. “Ethan….Help me…Ethan…It’s me…It’s Honor.”
I yell and bang like that for I don’t know how long, but suddenly I hear muffled voices. “Ethan…I’m down here…Ethan…Help…I’m here.” I keep banging until I hear the clang of a latch being open. I push hard on the door. “Oh, Ethan.” I fall into his arms and cry.
“Oh my god, Honor. Are you hurt? Oh my god, oh my god, baby…I was so,” he’s breathing heavy and can’t finish.
“I’m all right, Ethan…I’m just…so…scared. They killed Storm…”
He holds me at arm’s length. “What?”
“They killed Storm. Someone with a mask…he said they caught him…they knew he was helping us.”
Ethan closes his eyes and sighs, pulling me back to his chest. “I’m just so glad they didn’t hurt you.”
Out of the corner of my eye I see a figure, so I turn. “Oh, Hunter…”
“Hey. You good?” Ethan’s younger brother asks.
“Yeah.” Turning my attention back to Ethan, Hunter walks away. “How’d you find me?” I cry, looking into Ethan’s violet eyes.
“I was actually looking for the elixir. I had no idea you’d be anywhere near here.”
“Where’s here?”
“The school. The one in the picture.”
Standing back from Ethan, I look around. I’m inside some small building. I walk to the door that leads outside and there it is. To my right stands an old stone building – the old Monroe school. “I had no idea,” I muse.
“Give me a hug, babe. Don’t let me let you go ever again.” Ethan pulls me so tight, he feels like that snake that held my gut. It’s not a good feeling…and I don’t understand why.
“Babe,” I mumble into his neck.
“Yeah,” he says above my head.
“You’re scared.”
He chuckles. “Uh, yeah.”
“Fill me in.” I pull away again. “Tell me what’s happening.”
“Not here, Honor. Let me get you home. I’ll come back later to look for the stuff. Your parents are so worried.”
“No,” I demand. “I mean, yes, I wanna go home, but we need to end this thing. We need to go to the police…something. I can’t live afraid the rest of my life.”
“Honor. We’re not going to the police. I’ve explained why. Either they’ll think we’re crazy or they’ll keep us, report us, and do whatever testing they want on us. No. We can’t trust the cops. Your parents know what’s going on. Let me bring you to them. They’ll take you to some hotel somewhere and hide you while we find this stuff…and hand it over.”
“What?” I’m stunned. “You want to hand the elixir to that Gaffer? He’ll use it for evil.”
“Better that than him killing you. No, I can’t take the chance, Honor.”
“But how do you know he won’t want to kill us anyway. We can dump the elixir…if it even exists…and be gone with it forever.”
“Oh, Honor. I just don’t know. But we gotta get you outta here. If they hid you here, they’ll be back. Please let’s get the heck home. I’ll come back on my own.” He wraps his one arm around my waist and bends to put his other arm behind my knees. Ethan carries me away.
“Oh geez, Eeth. Please. Put me down.”
“N
ope. I want a guarantee I’m getting you outta here.”
“Ethan. Put her down.” Hunter comes back from around the corner in a frenzy. “Send her back down.”
“No…” I beg.
“Yes, hurry. Now. One of his men is coming. Now, Honor. Go back,” Hunter demands.
Ethan, still carrying me, walks me back down the dank and dreary icehouse.
“No, Ethan. Please. You don’t know what it’s like down there.”
Ethan takes off his coat. “Here. Take this. I’ll be back when they’re gone. Don’t let them know we were here.”
He gives me a quick kiss on the lips, and just like that…he’s gone. The lock latches, and I’m alone again.
Disappointment spurts through my body like venom…destroying all hope. They’ll hurt Ethan…like they did Storm. There is no way they didn’t see Ethan leaving the icehouse. Impending doom slithers across the floor and up the walls, and it’s getting stronger with every stubborn breath I take. Closing my eyes, I think…for the first time in my life, I wish I were already dead. What’s to come seems far worse.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Footsteps approach above me again, but I keep my eyes closed. Any energy I had had to fight is lost. The snake inside me tightens its grip, causing an intense nausea to overcome me. If I’d eaten anything in the last few days, I’m sure it would be splattered across the floor any minute. Two sets of feet stomp down the stairs, but my eyes are still shut, so I can’t see who they belong to. If it were Ethan, I’m sure he’d have let me know already.
My heart beat races, defying my resolve to keep calm and not care, but with that and my stomach’s contents reaching my throat, calm is something I will not be achieving this night.
“Get over there.” I hear a familiar but unsettling man’s voice say before I hear a thump and a moan. “Don’t go anywhere near her. You stay there on that side and she stays on her side.”
Curiosity has gotten the best of me, so I open my eyes. “Storm?”
“You,” the now familiar masked man says. “You stay where you are, y’here?”
Holding duct tape and rope in his hands, he strides over to me. Paralysis sets in, and I am now unable to move even if I wanted to. The man slaps the duct tape over my mouth then proceeds to tie my wrists together and then my ankles. I am now tied up in the same position as Storm is across the room.
“Now because your boyfriend here acted as a spy on your account…he gets to end his short life down here in the dark…with you…Now be good. I’ll be right upstairs on the other side of that door. My instructions are not to leave the premises…since the boy can’t be trusted.” The man laughs that evil laugh he has and leaves us alone.
Storm bangs the back of his head against the wall and leaves it there, his gaze to the ceiling as he realizes he’s been defeated. He sits across the room, but still, his frustration seeps into me. His hackles are up though… so I know he’s not finished fighting.
I rest my head against the wall and close my eyes again, trying to let go of any emotions I have…including Storm’s. It is not reassuring to be both scared and angry. Forcing air slowly into my lungs through my nose, I let it out even more gradually – collecting myself more and more with each breath. As my deep breathing continues subconsciously, I contemplate recent events with a bit more objectivity than before. Storm is not dead. This is good. That means Ethan is most likely okay…otherwise he’d be down here as well. Even if they have caught him, I’m almost positive he is likewise not dead – they need Ethan more than they need Storm. So again, this is good. Ethan has explained the situation to my parents…so even if they are worried, they at least know why I’ve been abducted. And if Ethan hasn’t been caught, he had to have told them where I am and that I am unharmed. Again…good. I’m sure my parents are enjoying some relief about that. The situation may not be ideal…but to get through the rest of this, I have to believe that we will come out alive.
Sometime during my abstracted reasoning, I hear a shuffling sound from across the room. Upon opening my eyes, I see Storm scooting over to me. Looking at him with wide eyes, I silently ask him what the heck he is doing sliding across the floor on his butt.
His eyes narrow, and I believe he is telling me to shut up.
I raise one sarcastic eyebrow in response.
His head shakes a couple times, and with his own raised eyebrows, I’m sure he’s saying, “I told you to shut up.”
I mumble a “humph” beneath the duct tape and turn my head up and to the right, replying with my own, “You cannot talk to me like that.”
Storm manages to make it over to me using only his glutes – which is very impressive to watch, I’ll have you know. He slides next to me and nudges me with his upper elbow.
I’m hoping my scowl tells him I’m still upset, but when I look at him he’s trying to tell me something. Mumbling arrested words, he motions towards his upper leg.
“What?!” I exclaim, but it comes out as a high-pitched hum. What the heck is he asking of me? I’m not that kind of girl.
A smirk sneaks out from behind the duct taped mouth while his dimple dances in amusement. I catch a sparkle in his eye, but just as quickly, it’s gone. He motions with his elbow this time towards his front pocket.
Oh. Oh.
He taps his elbow a couple more times on his front pocket while he mumbles some frustrated request.
There must be something in his pocket I need to get. I look up at him with questioning eyes. No matter what is in his pocket, it’s still going to be awkward reaching for it.
He rolls those intense violet eyes and shakes his head. Then a sigh vibrates from his throat, and he tilts his head in agitation.
I look at him with questioning eyes, but I soon do as requested. With a tumultuous hand, I skim the edge of his jeans pocket. My face burns so hot, I’m sure I’m giving myself a sunburn. Storm lifts his right hip off the floor, loosening the material so the pocket won’t be so tight. My eyes instinctively close, but I quick open them. God forbid I find something I’m not supposed to. Pressing my fingers deeper into his pocket, I still don’t feel anything. Storm groans a deep, guttural groan and shifts his legs. Both of us have become extremely uncomfortable, but when I look up at him, he nods as if I should continue. I inhale through my nose and don’t let it out, digging deeper into his pocket as I hold my breath.
Finally, I feel something.
I slide the hard metal instrument up the inside of his pocket and curl it under my fingers. I pull it out, uncurl my hand and hold it out to him. It’s one of those Swiss army knife things. Looking up at him for answers, I find his eyes closed and his face flush. My heart does one of those flippy things and I get all tingly inside. I let out the breath I forgot I was holding.
When his eyes open, he juts out his chin and holds up his wrists. I’m supposed to cut the rope. Okay. I can do this. Again, my hand shakes, but I flip up the knife and start cutting through the rope. Luckily it’s not that thick and it doesn’t take me too long to break through it.
Storm wriggles his wrists around a few times then gently takes the duct tape off my mouth. His duct tape comes off next, and he proceeds to undo the ropes around my wrists and ankles and then his own.
He takes in a deep breath and drapes his arm around my shoulder. “Thanks,” he barely breathes out.
Turning to look at him, I notice his face is still red and his eyes are that deep plum I saw the other day. I lean my head against his shoulder and let out my own sigh of relief.
A few silent moments go by before I hear, “Don’t get too comfortable, sweetie. We got work to do.”
“Work?”
“You wanna stay down here forever?”
“We’re gonna break out?” I ask in amazement.
With that amused grin on his face, he replies, “As much as I’d love to stay down here with ya, princess…I’d like to be with you on my own terms.”
We let that statement hang in the air while we regard each other silently.
Unable to tear my gaze from his, I stand there entranced by the soul behind those eyes. It calls out to me. I want to reach inside him…envelop myself within him. With my breathing growing more rapidly, I try to force myself to look away.
Fortunately, he breaks the trance first. Walking away from me, Storm says, “C’mon, let’s see if this knife’ll work on the door.”
I follow him up the stairs and sit on the top step while he saws on one of the hinges. And I consider intently my feelings for Storm…and for Ethan.
**
An hour later and Storm is getting frustrated. The small knife is not cutting through the old rusted hinge. Giving up and sitting down next to me, Storm looks at me with tight lips and a heavy breath. I know better than to open my mouth right now…Storm’s anger is brewing, and I am not about to let it boil over. We have enough things to worry about.
I lay my hand on top of his leg and try to erase some of that anger.
“You don’t have to do that, angel. I won’t bite,” he says without smiling.
“I know,” I whisper.
“I’m sorry I messed things up,” he confesses. “I really thought I was doing the right thing.” He looks down at his lap and shakes his head. “I wanted to do something right for a change.”
A tear strolls down Storm’s dimpled cheek…I wipe it away with my thumb…smiling while I do so.
“He should have never come looking for you,” Storm says softly.
“But I’m glad he did,” I respond, not really sure why I’m glad…whether it’s because I’ve met Ethan…or Storm.
Storm tilts his head. “Yeah. I’m sure you are.” Another tear drops from his eye and I know he thinks I’m talking about being happy to have met Ethan. I don’t correct him.
A set of footsteps screams above us. I look to Storm for instruction. He drops his head in defeat and pulls me close in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he cries.