Twenty Minutes Late

by Caroline Crane

  “Can’t say I do.” Emerson sounded wistful. “What have you got, man? List your resources.”

  “Truck fuel. Regular.”

  “That could work. What were you thinking, burn the place down? How do you know she’s in there?”

  “She flashed an SOS,” said Ben.

  “Could be a trick.”

  “I don’t think so. I think she’s smarter than they are.”

  “Then how’d she get caught?”

  Ben couldn’t answer that. “We need a bottle. Glass. It has to break.”

  “Gotcha.” Emerson vanished into the night. He had borrowed his father’s car for extra speed and quickly returned with a bottle that once held Beefeater gin. “I poured it out.”

  “Your dad’s not going to like that,” Ben said.

  “He won’t like it if they catch him with booze in the car. He should thank me.”

  Emerson looked up at the next clap of thunder, and rubbed his arms. “Feels like rain. It’ll put out the fahr.”

  “Let’s hope a fire won’t be necessary.” Ben unscrewed his gas cap. “This is for backup only.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  All around her, the trailer went dark. The whole world was dark except for a window next to the washing machine. Outside it, the humid air pulsed with a flashing red light.

  She heard Jake’s “Holy crap!” And then, “Fucking coppers.”

  They must have cut the power.

  “Jake Wyler, your house is surrounded. Put down your weapon where we can see it.”

  That window—it was part of a door. Her mind chugged slowly. A door meant out. Didn’t it? Was it really there? Or a trick? She turned so her hands could reach it, and groped for a knob.

  From the bedroom came sounds of a drawer being pulled out, of someone rummaging. A beam of light darted through the room. “Where is she? You bitch, you let her go!”

  It had to have a knob. Lina had gone out that way with her laundry. Jake’s flashlight found her and blazed in her face.

  She grasped at something, and turned it. The door swung. Cree swung with it.

  Her hands were tied. She couldn’t grab the railing, and tumbled down the steps.

  For a moment she lay dazed in throbbing red light. Then turned her head.

  Jake stood in the doorway, looking down at her.

  He vanished and the door slammed shut. A voice said, “Freeze!” She froze.

  Black shoes climbed the steps, rattled the door. Jake had locked it.

  The shoes came back down. They turned and planted themselves facing the door. She saw a hand but thought nothing of it until gunfire blasted her ear. Her cry was only a moan with her mouth still covered.

  The feet came toward her. She looked up at sea-green eyes. He said, “Hey. Are you hurt?”

  She didn’t know. He shouted something over her head, then reached to pick her up.

  “I know you,” he said. “You wouldn’t be the hostage, would you?”

  She didn’t know that either. He said, “Let’s get you safe,” and started to walk.

  She stumbled. Both her shoes were gone. She grabbed his arm for support.

  Grabbed—his arm?

  Her hands were free! That bolt in the bathroom must have nicked her bonds and the fall just now finished tearing them. She ripped the tape from her mouth and tried to talk. “He’s in there, the ba—”

  The bullhorn drowned her out.

  Thunder drowned the bullhorn.

  She saw Ben. He veered toward her. She was free!

  The bullhorn tried again. “Jake Wyler, you have three minutes. We are counting.”

  Three minutes. She tried to tell them.

  An arc of light streaked across the meadow. It landed with a crash and a whoomf. Ben turned and ran toward the lilac bushes. The officer dropped her arm and he ran, too.

  Someone shouted. It sounded like Emerson Santiago. Here? She must be dreaming. She wasn’t free after all.

  She saw Maddie with a white-haired man, maybe her father. And Phil Reimer. They all watched the fire. A wind blew, pushing it toward the trailer.

  If not dreaming, then she really was free. She could walk home. All the way home in her stocking feet.

  The stockings were torn, hanging in shreds. She looked like a derelict bag lady. Mortified, she pulled off the shreds.

  Now her feet were bare. And pebbles under them. That was real enough.

  There was the bridge still to come. How could she walk on that grillwork?

  She wasn’t thinking. All she had to do was call Grandma. She could borrow Maddie’s phone.

  She edged past a couple that stood holding hands. The woman sobbed. Something about a baby.

  The baby!

  Kip was in there. Flames had reached the side of the trailer and a window was open. The room where Kip was.

  Jake wouldn’t leave him. He was Jake’s cash cow. She could still get herself home.

  But what if Jake did leave him? Kip would be burned alive. What could she do?

  Tell somebody. They were all busy with the fire. Maybe they would put it out. She kept hearing thunder. Why didn’t it rain?

  She was free. She did not want to go back where Jake was. If only she could find the green-eyed policeman.

  She still wasn’t thinking. Whatever Lina gave her, it affected her brain. She stood confused, looking out at Fremont. Where did Maddie go? And Ben. And the officer who picked her up.

  Sirens came shrieking along Fremont. At last, the fire department. Kip was safe.

  But he wasn’t. No one knew. No one would ever know where he was, until too late. Even if she found an officer or a firefighter, how long would it take? She watched the firemen jump from their trucks. Where would they get water? It all took time.

  “Hey look, the fire!” someone shouted. “It’s going in the window!”

  Kip had no time. She started running, never mind the pebbles. She knew Jake had locked the door, but she had to try. Her foot came down on something sharp. She hopped a few steps. No time for pain. Wasn’t there a song about that? She hurried on.

  “Miss!”

  It was the policewoman who had gone with them to the woods that day.

  “Miss, you can’t go in there!”

  Cree hesitated. Any explanation would take too long. She reached the door, dashed up the steps, and saw one of her shoes on the ground. No time for that either.

  The door stuck. If she had a—

  Green-eyes had one. He had shot at the lock. She tugged again. The door flew open, all but knocking her down. Smoke billowed out, a solid wall of smoke. She plunged into it.

  “Miss, get back here!”

  The lights were still off and smoke was everywhere, choking her. She groped her way to the bedroom. At any moment, Jake would grab her.

  She could see her way because the room was on fire. She saw the bed still in place, covering the hole. If they had taken Kip, they wouldn’t bother putting it back. She pushed it aside.

  “Miss!”

  The woman came after her. A light beam cut through the smoke. A man’s voice said, “There she is. Hey lady, you gotta get out of here, now!”

  She had to feel for where the carpet was cut. Her hand brushed something metallic. She knocked it away and found the edge of the cut. It came up easily.

  Next, the slab of wood. She couldn’t begin to get a grip on it.

  Hands grabbed her, trying to pull her to her feet. “She’s out of her mind. Miss, you have to get out. Now! What’s in there?”

  “It’s the—” Her throat gritted. She couldn’t talk. She shook off the hands and remembered what she had pushed away. A screwdriver. That was what Jake used.

  She hadn’t pushed it far, and quickly found it. They tried again to make her stand. She elbowed them aside and inserted the blade.

  The slab came up. She reached into the hole. Felt all around it.

  The hole was empty.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  She found nothing but wi
res and a cold, sweaty pipe. He must be there. She thought she heard a sound. Did she dream the whole thing?

  The smoke made her dizzy. She couldn’t see. Her eyes watered. He had to be there, she knew it.

  They grabbed her with a firmer grip. Again she used her elbows. “He is here, I know he is.” She could barely rasp the words. “He’ll die!”

  They were stronger than she was and there were two of them. They got her to her feet. “You want us all to die?” one of them said. “What are you trying to do?”

  “The baby!” They didn’t know Jake had the baby. They didn’t connect the dots. “Kip Hurlow!” She choked it out.

  One man held her while the other shined his flashlight into the hole. “Nothing there but a bunch of wires. Let’s get out.”

  She couldn’t get out. She knew he had to be there.

  Fire blazed through the room. She coughed. The smoke swirled. Her head swirled. Again she thought she heard Emerson. “I’m telling you, man, he was trying to climb out a window.”

  They carried her toward the door. She tried to call out. “Emerson!” In case he really was there.

  He answered. Very softly. It was pitched too high for Emerson and it came from the floor.

  She went limp. They couldn’t hold a dead weight, and dropped her. Almost immediately they got another grip and tried to drag her.

  Angry voices came from the hall. Lantern beams flickered. She squirmed away and went back to where Kip was, ripping a seam in Grandma’s skirt. She guided herself by the bed, pushing her way through smoke.

  The voices grew louder. She thought she heard Ben. She had never heard him raise his voice.

  She reached the hole. The sound came again, a faint cry.

  He was there. She knew it. She stepped into the hole.

  A heavy boot clumped down next to her, almost on her hand. A fireman’s black slicker brushed her face. “Miss, he’s not there. He climbed out a window and got away.”

  They thought she was looking for Jake?

  She couldn’t talk. Couldn’t explain. She reached deep under the floor and touched something soft. Like fabric.

  A tiny hand. A limp, flaccid hand.

  She was too late. Always too late, but she couldn’t leave him. She grasped the fabric and someone grasped her. She held the fabric tighter. It caught on something, those wires. Good thing they’d cut the power.

  “No!” she coughed as they tried to pull her out. “He’s here!” Her voice was gone. She slithered out of the jacket and left them holding it.

  The heavy boot disappeared and something else took its place.

  Sneakers. Big and blue. She knew them. He crouched beside her and beamed his flashlight where she was reaching.

  He said something. She couldn’t hear him. Everyone shouted and jets of water rained down from the window. Kip would drown. But he was already gone.

  “There’s something in there,” said Ben, beside her.

  “The baby.” She could manage only a hoarse whisper. He was close enough that he heard her. Through the smoke, a humongous pair of yellow shoes appeared. Then Emerson’s knees, as he knelt beside the hole. “I’m telling you, man—”

  “I heard you.” Ben stretched out and reached under the floor. She felt his hands untangling hers. The firemen shouted at them all to get out.

  Ben sat up, carrying something. It was Kip, dressed as she last saw him, in a new blue corduroy suit. He had been alive then, struggling among the wires with tape on his mouth.

  Now he was limp. His head rolled back. Ben supported it but didn’t know how to hold a baby, even one no longer alive. Cree took the body from him as firemen rushed them from the room.

  They were almost out when Cree heard another cry. Very soft.

  She stopped and Emerson crashed into her. She tried to tell them. Her voice was gone. She pointed to the wall.

  “What now?” said the fireman who held her arm. He kept his grip on her. She pointed again and managed a rasping whisper.

  “She’s—in there. He beat her up and left her.”

  Ben, too, spoke in a rasp that was little better than hers. “I heard it, too. Right there.”

  She knew it was Lina.

  They had a thermal imaging camera. It showed a human shape behind the wall. One of them ran his hand over the smooth panel and found a knob. It was a clothes closet with a folding door.

  She caught a glimpse of hanging garments and a figure slumped against them.

  She saw a face veiled in smoke. A thin face, streaked with blood.

  “It can’t be,” she said.

  Chapter Thirty

  She held Kip tightly, unwilling to let him go. She couldn’t believe he was dead. She had failed him again, always too late, and so she snuggled him in Grandma’s jacket, sheltered from the rain. She couldn’t take shelter herself, but had to stay and watch as they brought Jake out on a stretcher.

  Ben stayed with her, his arm around her. He didn’t think she could stand by herself. He was probably right. “Who beat who up?” he croaked as Jake’s bloodied face appeared in the doorway.

  She had a mouthful to say to Jake but she could only whisper. He wouldn’t hear her. What was more, he wouldn’t care.

  She tried to show him the baby’s body. Kip still had tape on his mouth. It made her angry that he should have to wear that into eternity. She tore it off.

  His eyes flew open. He let out a shriek and took a big gulp of air.

  “Kippie!” She hugged him. Nuzzled his face. Felt him grab her hair. Jake had been carried on past and she hadn’t even noticed. That was all he was worth.

  Then Maddie was there, throwing her arms around Cree and Ben together. “Ben, you’re a genius! You found her! Oh Cree, I thought—I don’t know what I thought. Is that the baby? The one that was kidnapped? He was here?”

  Cree closed her eyes, blinded by a flashbulb. Phil Reimer shot questions at her. So did the policewoman who had tried to stop her from going inside.

  “Under the floor,” Cree choked out. Ben found her rain-soaked shoes by the steps. The rain came down hard, washing both Kip and herself.

  Paramedics, noting that all three had smoke poisoning, hurried them into a waiting ambulance. Not, she saw with relief, the one that held Jake on his stretcher.

  Maddie followed, with Phil Reimer, both asking questions. Cree could only shake her head and point to her throat.

  Emerson danced along beside them and leaned into the ambulance. “Did you see that? They got her. I think it’s a her. She was climbing out the window. That’s why I threw it, trying to stop her. Sorry, Ben. Sorry about the fahr,” he told Cree. “They’ll put me in jail for arson.”

  She smiled, patted her throat, and blew him a kiss. If it weren’t for him, Lina might have gotten away. As it was, they were leading her from the woods, an officer holding each arm.

  Paramedics sent Maddie and Emerson out of the way. A woman with a laptop tried to take notes. Only Ben could answer, and not very well. The ambulance doors closed.

  Cree turned to Ben and tried her best. “Are we really here?”

  She still held Kip. She couldn’t let him go even if she wanted to. He clutched her jacket and her hair. Someone said Olive would meet them at the hospital.

  Ben answered her whisper with one of his own. “We’re really here. You’re a survivor, Cree.”

  “Thanks to you. By now, we must own each other completely.”

  That was a stupid thing to say. She wouldn’t be so stupid after she went to college. Who needed Broadway? Nor did Broadway need her. It had been a silly dream that kept her happy for a while. She could do a lot more good specializing in childhood trauma.

  Ben didn’t think she was stupid. He pulled her close and kissed her ear.

  Wow! She had never dreamed an ear could be so sensitive.

  Her eyes must have said it all. He looked into them.

  He pulled her still closer and kissed her mouth.

  He tasted of smoke. They both did, she knew.
Who would have thought smoke could be so delectable?

  the end

  About the Author

  Caroline Crane began her long writing career with six award-winning books for young adults. After that came adult novels of mystery and suspense and one nonfiction book, Murder and Mayhem in the Catskills, for The History Press. Her novels have been translated into several languages, and some were book club selections. One, Summer Girl, became a made-for-TV movie starring Kim Darby and Barry Bostwick.

  These days Caroline writes for both adults and young adults, and also has some plans for middle-grade fiction. She lives in the rural Catskill area, not far from her daughter and family, and shares a home with her dog and cat.

  Website:

  www.carolinecrane.com

  Turn the page for more books

  available from

  Fire and Ice Young Adult Books

  Also Available

  From Fire and Ice YA Books

  Waiting for Dusk

  by Nancy Pennick

  Read a book.

  Fall asleep.

  Meet a boy.

  Is it real or just a dream?

  Katie's everyday life suddenly turns exciting when she travels back in time and meets the boy of her dreams. Thinking of nothing else, willing to leave the real world behind, she's determined to find out if it's all a dream...or not. Returning again and again, Katie almost has her answers until one day her precious book goes missing.

  Also Available

  From Fire and Ice YA Books

  Waiting For Natalie

  by Dan Spanton

  Natalie Bouchard, a high school student from Portland, Maine, becomes convinced that her younger brother didn't drown in an accident years before, but was kidnapped and taken to Colombia. Without telling her parents, she flies to the Colombian capitol city of Bogotá, accompanied by a nineteen year old friend, Caleb Ferguson. A search of city streets and orphanages ends in disappointment. Finally, as her grandfather arrives to take her home, she gets a lead. Her little brother may have been taken by illegal emerald miners to a highly dangerous area north of Bogotá.