Ninja Girl

by Cookie O'Gorman

  “Our way out.”

  When I looked over, she was staring at the light bulb like it would solve all of our problems. The confidence in her eyes gave me hope. If Snow believed we could get out of this, then I knew we could. I might’ve doubted myself, but I could never doubt her.

  “Are you ready?” she asked.

  “Absolutely,” I said—and watched as she walked forward, reached up and put her fingers around the bulb.

  Talking to the camera, she said, “Sorry boys, but we need a little privacy.”

  A twist of her wrist…then complete darkness.

  I heard a crack like glass breaking. “Snow?” I asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said softly. “Be ready.”

  Backing against the wall beside the door, I waited. I couldn’t tell where exactly her voice had come from, but her plan was genius. It’d been right there in front of our faces the whole time. What was the best way to freak them out? What would force them to check on us? If they couldn’t see inside the room, how would they know what was going on? That light bulb was the solution to everything. It had to work.

  A few seconds later, I heard the locks clicking.

  “I move first,” she whispered, barely a sound, but I heard it. She must’ve been standing on the other side of the door.

  As the door creaked open, I held my breath. A fluorescent shaft of light illuminated the room from the outside. The gun was the first thing I saw followed by the arm holding it. The man had both hands on the gun, sharp and steady, as he inched his way forward.

  “Now kids,” he said, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Yeah, right, I thought. Then what’s the gun for?

  “But I will,” he went on. “So, why don’t you just—”

  Snow moved like a flash. One second she was behind the door, the next she was in motion. He tried to turn the gun on her, but the room was too small. Snow caught his arm and made a slashing motion. With a grunt, the man dropped the gun, a small pool of blood spattering the floor.

  That was when I noticed the shard of glass in her hand.

  Must’ve come from the light bulb, I realized as she kicked the man hard, once in the kneecap, once in the balls. He fell to the ground with a groan, and Snow pocketed the gun. We rushed outside, only to be greeted by two other assholes wearing the same head-to-toe black. There were cars everywhere. Apparently, they’d been keeping us in the janitor’s closet of some kind of parking garage. The floor rumbled again as cars passed by overhead.

  The first guy tried to punch me, but I ducked, nailing him the stomach. I came up swinging and used one of the flips Snow’d taught me. It worked like a charm. The guy was on the ground in seconds, rolling around, not knowing what hit him. I was actually pretty proud of myself, and I noticed Snow’s guy was down, too.

  “Let’s go,” I said, grabbing her hand.

  We ran up a flight of stairs, but it was like a freaking maze. Row after row of cars. If we’d had more time, we could’ve probably found the way out. But we hadn’t been running long before we heard footsteps.

  “There were two more,” Snow said, “at the drive-in.”

  A shout went up behind us, and even as we spotted the exit up ahead, I knew it would be too far. Besides, what if they had another gun? I scanned the lot quickly.

  “In here,” I said, and ducked down one of the rows, hopping into the back of an old pickup. Snow followed though she looked unsure. I got the black tarp pulled over us just as the footsteps grew louder. They paused at the end of our row, and I’d never been more terrified.

  “Thought I heard something,” a voice said.

  The idea that they’d catch us again, put us back in that room, it was paralyzing. Snow’s fingers were wrapped around mine in a death grip. Neither one of us breathed until we heard the footsteps move on, rushing past our hiding place. I didn’t realize it until several minutes later, but her other hand was holding the gun.

  “Hey,” I whispered, and she let out a shaky breath. I waited until she looked up. “Let’s go home.”

  She nodded.

  And we ran.

  CHAPTER 21: SNOW

  It was dark when we pulled in front of Ash’s house.

  “Thanks,” he said, holding the taxi door open for me. “I’ll be back to pay the fare.”

  The driver didn’t look happy, but he nodded. “Longer it takes, the more you owe.”

  “That’s cool.”

  Surprise, I thought, stifling a hysterical giggle. We’ve got no money. But that was just the crazy talking. It’d been a hell of night…day…whatever. I had a gun in my hoodie pocket, practically zero food in my stomach, and though I was beyond happy to be out of that parking garage, I was so not looking forward to Omma’s reaction. She was going to kill me. Probably by glaring me to death. Definitely in the first five minutes of walking through the door.

  “You okay?” Ash asked.

  “Yeah.” I checked the clock again before slipping out of the car.

  11:13 p.m. Right on time.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” I said and slammed the door behind me. The heavy gun bounced against my stomach as we walked up the path.

  “I don’t know.” He threw me a grin. “Cheer up, ninja girl. We made it.”

  I smiled back.

  Even if Omma did kill me, at least I wouldn’t die in that concrete room. I shook my head. We’d gotten lucky, Ash and I. First finding a taxi at all, and then, though it took precious minutes to convince him to drive us from downtown Chariot—where the parking garage had been—to Ash’s house, he’d agreed. The driver didn’t have a phone, so we couldn’t call ahead, and we didn’t want to take the time to stop.

  But Ash was right. Time to look at the bright side. We’d escaped—which had been easier than I’d expected—even if the whole thing was piss-your-pants scary. I hadn’t had to use the gun. I’d never fired one in my life, never wanted to. Just the thought made me shudder. But the gunman hadn’t put up much of a fight. I mean, yeah, I’d taken out one of his kneecaps, but he hadn’t tried to hit me. It hadn’t even seemed like he was trying to hurt us.

  Strange.

  “Are you ready for this?” Ash asked as we stopped at the door.

  “Sure,” I said. Omma was going to disown me, but whatever. I deserved it. “Even if I’m not, we have to stop those guys from getting your dad’s money.”

  “Don’t be nervous, Snow.” He lifted a loose brick and picked up a spare key. After inserting it, he turned and took my hand. “Your mom is going to be so happy to see you she’ll forget about anything else.”

  I blinked. “How did you…”

  “You look like you’re going to throw up.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly, “but that doesn’t explain how you knew what I was thinking.”

  Was he a freaking mind reader now?

  “I can’t read minds,” he said. I gaped as he leaned down, kissed the tip of my nose. “But I can read yours.”

  Ash winked and gave me one last smile—then led us inside.

  It was like someone hit the pause button. Mr. Stryker had been pacing around the room. His wife was sitting on the sofa, leg bouncing, cheeks red. It was the first time I’d seen her without makeup, and it looked like she’d been crying for hours. Omma was there, too, dry-eyed, of course, standing beside the fireplace. Everyone froze the second we stepped into the living room.

  “Hey Mom, Dad,” Ash said, shattering the silence with a sledgehammer. “We’re back.”

  No reaction.

  Mr. Stryker didn’t even look like he was breathing.

  I decided to give it a go. “Omma?”

  She blinked.

  “I’m so sorry, Omma,” I said. “I know you’re mad, but—”

  She was on me before I could finish. My usually stern-faced mother had always been strong, but she tugged me to her, wrapped her arms around me, with a fierceness I rarely saw. She was always contained, in control—but right now she was simply my mom.

  “Sn
ow-Soon,” she breathed, my head tucked against her shoulder—which put me in an odd position, considering the top of her head only came up to my chin. “My Snow-Soon. I was so worried about you.”

  “You were?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  My throat closed up as I hugged her back. “I missed you, too.”

  She nodded, and we stood like that for a moment.

  The relief of seeing her, the security I felt in my mother’s arms, made me sag. My body just kind of gave out like I’d been running on empty this whole time but didn’t notice it until then. It was nice to feel safe again.

  “Jesus, Dad, I said I’m alright.”

  I looked over, and Ash was in a similar state. His parents had latched on to him and didn’t look in a hurry to go anywhere. Surprisingly, it was Mr. Stryker who was weeping the hardest. Mrs. Stryker’s silent tears were nothing compared to his sobs. Ash looked at me wide-eyed like he didn’t know what to do. I shrugged.

  “It’s okay,” he said again, patting his dad on the back. “There’s no need for all that.”

  “No need,” Mr. Stryker coughed/hiccupped. “Son, I never thought I’d see you again.”

  “I’m fine, Snow’s fine. We got back before the deadline. It’s all good.”

  “We didn’t know what to think,” Mrs. Stryker explained. She kept touching Ash’s face like she couldn’t believe he was real. “It was devastating. After your father transferred the money and we didn’t hear anything, we thought—”

  “He what?” Ash said.

  She smiled sadly. “He sent the money over two hours ago.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we were afraid for you and Snow. We wanted you back.”

  “But…we made it in time, so you wouldn’t have to pay.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Mr. Stryker said, pulling it together. “The money doesn’t matter. The two of you are safe. They let you go, and that’s all I care about.”

  Ash’s mouth dropped open, but I answered.

  “They didn’t let us go,” I said. All eyes were suddenly on me. “We escaped.”

  Omma stepped back. “What do you mean you escaped?”

  “We had to fight the men. There were five of them, but we fought hard and got lucky.”

  I watched her icy mask slide back into place.

  “These men,” she said. Her gaze was as cool as ever as she examined my cheek. “They did this to you?”

  I nodded.

  “And you made them pay.”

  It wasn’t really a question, but I answered anyway. “Yes.”

  She leaned in to kiss my cheek, and when she backed away, her eyes had gone from ice to fire in seconds flat. They flashed like hot coals. My mom looked ready to kick some major ass.

  “I will make them pay more,” she promised, and I believed her.

  “But that makes no sense,” Mr. Stryker said after a beat. “I transferred the money early to get an early release. They should’ve let you go, free and clear.”

  Ash took over the explanation. “Those bastards weren’t going to release us any time soon.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Too many supplies. There was enough water to last days.”

  “Days,” Mrs. Stryker said faintly.

  Mr. Stryker shook his head. “I can’t believe it. I did exactly what they said.”

  “But it wasn’t enough.” His wife looked up at him with a scowl. “They were going to keep the kids and continue to blackmail us. My God, this could’ve gone on for weeks, months.”

  “But Henry said…”

  “Henry was wrong, Wes. No one can be right all the time.”

  Mr. Stryker shook his head, looking confused, as Ash asked, “Where are Evers and Smith anyway? Shouldn’t they be here with you guys, I don’t know, doing their job?”

  Exactly what I was thinking.

  “We sent the agents home,” Mrs. Stryker said and forced a smile. “They’ve been running themselves ragged, searching day and night. Henry was so distraught when we told him you’d been kidnapped that he practically begged your father to pay the ransom. They kept searching but didn’t know where to look. We had no idea where you were, what those men might’ve been doing to you…”

  Mr. Stryker placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “When we paid and nothing came of it, Henry was almost as devastated as the three of us.”

  I looked to Omma for an explanation.

  “There was no use making them wait around,” she said finally, “for something that might not happen.”

  And I got it.

  Really got it.

  Even though they’d wanted to believe we’d be released once they paid the ransom, no one in this room actually thought it would happen. Not after hours with no answer. Not after the agents had searched and came up empty-handed. No wonder Omma had lost control. She hadn’t believed she’d see me again either.

  The room was silent as we took it all in.

  “So,” Ash said, “they really have no idea who’s behind it?”

  Mrs. Stryker shook her head. “Your father pulled some strings in the police department, but they don’t have any leads.”

  “Yet,” Omma said. “They don’t have any leads yet. No crime is perfect. These men have made mistakes. Right now, they probably think they’ll get away with it, which will make them careless. This will be their downfall.”

  The gun in my pocket was suddenly too heavy.

  “Maybe this will help,” I said and held it out. Ash’s parents were wide-eyed. “It belonged to one of the men. There probably won’t be any fingerprints. They were all wearing gloves, but maybe you can use the serial numbers.”

  “Well done, Snow-Soon.” Omma nodded, and Mr. Stryker ran to get a plastic bag from the kitchen. Seconds later the gun was wrapped, sealed, and Mrs. Stryker had already contacted the police. The call lasted only minutes, and when it ended, she looked less troubled.

  “The cops say this might be just what we need to catch them,” she said.

  The mood in the room shifted, the idea of actual evidence lifting everyone’s spirits.

  “Well”—Mrs. Stryker clapped her hands, a real smile on her face this time—”Ash and Snow are back home, safe and sound. I think this calls for a celebration.”

  “I agree,” Omma said, and I turned to her surprised. My mom was not one for big parties/celebrations/happy times in general. She shrugged. “Your return is worthy of celebration.”

  “Here, here,” Mr. Stryker said and pulled his son into another hug.

  “Alright then.” His wife smiled. “What do you say we throw a little welcome back party?”

  “The Academy would be the perfect place,” Omma said.

  “Oh, that sounds lovely.”

  “I could invite the Elite members.”

  “And I could invite all of Ash’s CCDS friends. It’ll be like a real homecoming.”

  My sigh and Ash’s groan were half-hearted at best. As our eyes met, I knew we were thinking the same thing: Home sounded pretty darn good. Now if we could just catch the kidnappers…

  The gun, I thought. That was our only real lead. I clung to the idea that it would give us some clue as to who did this. It had to.

  It just had to.

  * * *

  “What do you mean the serial numbers were filed off?”

  I yanked the frilly shirt I’d been trying on back over my head. “Just what I said, Min. They were filed off.”

  “As in unreadable?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And there was no DNA?” she asked as I tried on a sleeveless top covered with bright pink sequins—and took it right back off. Ugh. All of Min’s “party” clothes were two sizes too small and hard on the eyes. “No fingerprints?”

  “Nope.”

  “You know, there’s usually at least a partial.”

  “No partials, no nothing.”

  “Not even on the bullets?” she said. “Sometimes they forget to check t
he bullet casings.”

  I gave her a look.

  “What?” Min put the cap on her nail polish and wiggled her toes. Each of them was now a Luscious Lemon yellow. Her glare was completely at odds with the happy shade. “So, Bae Bae and I watched a CSI marathon last night, and I learned a few things. Is that a crime now?”

  I sighed. “No, sorry, they checked the casings, too.”

  And found nothing, I thought bitterly. All the faith I’d put in that stupid gun, and for what? At this rate, we’d never know who the kidnappers were.

  “Whatever,” I said, tugging the red silky number over my head and walking to my dresser. “I don’t care if it is a party in my and Ash’s honor. I’m cranky and depressed, and I want to wear a hoodie.”

  Min’s eyes softened. “Might I suggest the black one? It makes you look extremely badass.”

  “Thanks,” I said and shot her a smile.

  Slipping my arms into the sleeves, feeling the familiar fabric, I zipped up. It felt right.

  “I’m sorry for snapping at you, Min.”

  She shrugged. “It’s alright.”

  “I’m just so pissed.”

  “Well, yeah,” she said. “You were freaking kidnapped, Snow. You have a right to be pissed and so does Ash.”

  God, I’d missed her.

  “I was so worried I couldn’t see straight.” Min shook her head. “You know, me and Bae Bae and the others, we all went out looking for you.”

  I nodded. Omma had told me as much once we’d gotten back home the night of my return. She’d stayed in my bedroom, talking with me, until I finally fell asleep.

  “If we ever find those guys, Snow, they better watch out. I’m going to go off.”

  She sounded so serious I laughed. “Really?”

  “Hell yeah,” she said, “I have a lot of repressed rage stored up.”

  We were both laughing when there was a knock at the door. I opened it and found Bae Bae on the other side, arms crossed, taking up half the hallway as usual.

  “Snow,” he said, sounding awkward.

  “Bae Bae,” I said then—”Good Lord, your biceps are huge. Have you gotten even bigger since I was gone?”

  He shook his head, but just like that, the awkwardness disappeared. “Still such a smartass.”