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Ryan Lock Series Box Set 2

Page 50

by Sean Black


  That was the easy part. The next would be a whole lot harder.

  She grabbed the ledge with both hands and tried to pull herself up. No dice. She fell back. It was perhaps the first and only time that she wished she’d tried harder in Phys Ed class.

  Come on, she told herself. You have to do this. It’s either this or going back into that stinky truck and being dropped off who knows where. Broken Ridge? Even the name creeped her out. Hadn’t she heard about people getting crazy strength when they really needed it? Like women lifting cars up into the air when their child was trapped underneath. That was what she needed now.

  She took a deep breath, grabbed the ledge again with both hands and hauled herself up. She gave it everything. Her elbows cleared the top. She reached up with one hand and jammed it through the open window. She caught the ledge on the other side.

  Great. Now she had some purchase and her bodyweight had shifted a little. Her arms and shoulders burned with the effort but, she told herself, she’d done the hard part. She pushed her other hand through the window.

  She pushed her elbows over the ledge and through the window. Behind her she was sure she heard knocking at the door. She ignored it. A second later she heard a woman’s voice call out, “Honey, are you okay in there?”

  She twisted her head back, and tried to calm her breathing. “Yes, fine. Thank you.”

  Now there really was no going back. Pulling herself up a few inches more, she shoved her head through the window. It whacked against the glass. She ignored the pain and kept wriggling until her shoulders were through.

  The window dropped out into an alleyway at the back of the gas station. Besides a couple of garbage dumpsters, the place was empty.

  Ruth had been half expecting to find Mike out there, but he was nowhere to be seen. It was about a six-feet drop to the ground, and Ruth had no way of getting into a sitting position. The ledge was too narrow for her to scoot her butt round.

  The only thing she could do was twist herself round, let gravity take her, and hope that she landed on her side rather than her head. She took another deep breath and pushed through the window.

  Her ankle snagged, then twisted, getting caught between the window and the metal frame. She managed to wrench it free and fell the rest of the way. Pushing out her hands, she broke her fall, and tumbled forward, no longer in control. Her hands and wrists stung from the impact and her ankle pulsed with pain.

  She lay there for a moment, trying to work out if she’d broken anything. There was only one way to know for sure. Gingerly, she got to her feet. She rubbed at her wrists. Her ankle still throbbed as she put some weight on it, but she didn’t think it was broken.

  She looked around the alleyway. Still no one there.

  She hobbled down it toward the gas station. She turned the corner, expecting to see Mike or Brice. But they were nowhere to be seen. There was only a man putting gas in his Saturn, and a couple climbing out of a large, expensive-looking silver recreational vehicle.

  None of them so much as looked in her direction. She tried to figure which one might be more easily persuaded to let her make a phone call. The couple, she decided. A woman would be more likely to help a young girl who asked. If Brice hadn’t gotten to them first. They were busy stretching in the morning sunshine, working the kinks out of their necks and backs.

  She walked toward them, trying to seem casual. Hard to do when you’d just dropped out of a bathroom window head first, and twisted your ankle.

  The man looked up first. He didn’t say anything. He nudged his wife.

  “Excuse me,” she said, trying to sound extra polite. “I really hate to bother you, but I need to call my dad, and I’ve lost my phone. I know it’s asking a lot, but maybe if you could lend me yours? I’d be really quick.”

  They seemed to shrink away. Their expressions said that this must be some kind of a scam. A strange kid approaching strangers at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. They probably thought that as soon as they handed over their phone she’d run off with it. Jump into a waiting car and take off.

  Ruth didn’t blame them. It did seem weird. “Please,” she said again. She could already tell they weren’t going to do it.

  “I’m sorry . . .” the woman started to say.

  Before she could finish, Ruth turned and started toward the man gassing up his Saturn. Now she probably did seem like a panhandler to the couple.

  The pump clicked to a stop. The man removed the nozzle. Ruth walked over to him, making sure to keep the pump between her and the gas station so no one could see her without really looking. She repeated what she’d said to the couple. It sounded even more sketchy to her own ears the second time around.

  “Sorry,” Saturn man said. “Even if I wanted to, you see that sign there?”

  She glanced in the direction he was pointing a stubby finger.

  “You’re not allowed to use a cell phone here. Sounds a bit crazy to me but that’s what the sign says. Must be a reason for it.”

  “I could take it over there,” she said.

  Saturn guy wasn’t looking at her anymore. His gaze had moved over her shoulder. She didn’t want to look around. It was Brice. Or Mike. Or both of them.

  “Maybe he can help,” said Saturn guy, confirming her worst fears. She’d been found. Without being able to make the call.

  There would be a price to pay for trying to escape. She was sure of it.

  She had to will herself to look round.

  When she did, her heart quickened, but in a good way. Neither Mike nor Brice was standing next to the gas station entrance. Or even the lady from the restroom.

  It was someone with the power to save her from this nightmare.

  7

  Jacob took his lunch tray, shuffled across the room and sat at a table on his own. Apart from Rachel, who nudged one of her little followers, no one looked at him. No one dared. They all knew where he’d been. They all knew what had happened there. Some of them had heard his screams. The room was soundproofed, but they had still heard him scream and plead for Gretchen to stop, before he’d fallen silent.

  A couple of the other kids had cleaned up the room afterwards. Chris had given them a mop, a bucket and some bleach to do the job. They hadn’t talked about it. Not to each other. Not to anyone. They were level sixes. Another few months and they could be out of here. Back home with their families. Good boys and girls who had passed through the program.

  Jacob had refused to follow the program. He didn’t take orders. He was sullen around the fire pit. He had even laughed at Gretchen once. Right to her face. That had been a fatal error.

  So, now he had paid the price. His brain was cloudy. He could barely keep his hands steady enough to spoon Jell-O into his mouth.

  The others avoided him now. No one wanted to be the next Jacob. No one wanted to be led into the room and come back out like that.

  But, somewhere deep inside, the old Jacob was still alive. And he would have his say. Maybe not today. Or tomorrow. But one day.

  8

  Ruth moved fast toward the state trooper, who had now sauntered into the gas station and was busy filling a cup with coffee from the stand just inside the door. Any second now either Mike or Brice could appear round the corner. The couple from the RV were still staring at her. The look on their faces suggested they had been thinking about approaching the state trooper too.

  Ruth pushed through the gas-station door and made straight for him. He was tall, over six feet, lean, and in his forties. He looked up as she walked toward him.

  She stopped straight in front of him. Her words came out in a furious rush.

  “My name’s Ruth Catherine Price. I’m fourteen years old. I live in Los Angeles, California. This morning I was taken from my home by two men. They stopped here to get gas and I got away from them. I need you to help me. If they catch me . . .”

  The trooper, whose name plate read “Trooper Leaf”, put his coffee back on the stand. “Okay, slow down there, young lady.


  “Ruth. Ruth Price.” She knew she sounded dorky repeating her name like that, but she needed for him to understand how serious this was.

  “Okay, Ruth. Where are these two men now?” She could already see him looking past her to the door. His hand had fallen to his service weapon. Just that little gesture made her feel safer.

  “I don’t know. I snuck out the restroom window.” She held up her blackened, scraped palms as proof. “See?”

  All that she wanted right this second was to be believed. For an adult not to look at her like she was some kind of crazy runaway. That she was telling the truth.

  “Sounds like it’s just as well I was here, doesn’t it?” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Now, let’s go sit in my patrol car. That sound good?”

  It sounded better than good. There was no way anyone was going to try to pull her out of a state trooper’s patrol car. No way on earth. If either of those two bullies tried it, Ruth was sure that Trooper Leaf would shoot them.

  Trooper Leaf picked up his coffee and raised it toward the woman jockeying the cash register. “Back in a moment, Claudette.”

  She smiled and gave him a wave. Ruth followed him outside. They walked down the other side of the gas station to his car.

  “Tell you what,” he said. “The front’s kind of messy. Why don’t you sit in back?”

  He opened the rear door. Ruth got in and scooted along the seat to the other side where there was some shade. The trooper closed the door. The locks clunked down. Ruth was pretty sure that was automatic. The back seat smelt of stale hamburger meat and sweat. Right now, Ruth didn’t mind. She was safe.

  Trooper Leaf walked round and got into the driver’s seat. Sitting up, Ruth could see that he hadn’t been exaggerating about the mess. The front passenger seat was covered with papers, a couple of discarded Subway wrappers and three empty Camelbacks.

  “Okay, so I got your name already,” said Trooper Leaf, flipping open a notepad and writing it down. “Now, if you could let me have a number for your mom, I’m going to call and let her know that you’re okay.”

  When Ruth didn’t respond, he glanced back at her. “I’m guessing she’ll be worried out of her mind.”

  Him calling her mom wouldn’t help. It had to be her dad. “She’s away on business right now. It’d be easier to call my dad.”

  Trooper Leaf looked puzzled. “She doesn’t have a cell phone?”

  “She’s overseas,” said Ruth. “In Paris.”

  The trooper shifted round in his seat so he could look at her without straining his neck. “I’m pretty sure they have cell-phone coverage in France. Especially a big city like Paris.”

  “Yeah, but the time difference. It’ll be the middle of the night there. Wouldn’t it be easier to call my father? I can give you his number.”

  His expression said he was started to doubt her story. Ruth was pretty sure that cops were experts at telling when someone was lying to them, and she wasn’t a good liar. She never had been. Her face flushed, and she avoided making eye contact with the person.

  “Okay, give me that number and I’ll call him. I’m guessing he can call your mom, right?”

  “Sure,” said Ruth, a little too eagerly. “That would be great.”

  She rattled off her dad’s cell phone and the number at his apartment. He was pretty much the only person she knew who still had a landline instead of just a cell phone and Skype. She teased him about it.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Ruth saw movement. It was Brice and Mike. They were with the man from the RV. He was pointing them toward the patrol car.

  Ruth slid down in the seat. She didn’t want them to see her. At least, not before the trooper had made that call to her dad. He already had his phone in his hand and had started tapping in the number.

  Peeking out of the window, she saw that Brice and Mike were still heading straight for the patrol car. Ruth froze. They were looking straight at her. Brice had a big smirk on his face.

  9

  Should she warn Trooper Leaf that these were the two guys? Or should she wait for him to make the call?

  The call, she decided, was more important. It wasn’t like they were going to do anything to a cop. Not in broad daylight. She’d speak to her dad; he’d ask the trooper to stay with her until he could get there. And her mom could go to Hell.

  The trooper had finished tapping in the number. He held his cell phone to his ear. “Damn,” he said. “The connection dropped.” He held up the screen so that she could see there were no signal bars.

  She glanced back at the two escorts strolling toward her. They couldn’t be more than fifty yards away now.

  “Can you try again?” Ruth asked Trooper Leaf. “Please.”

  “Not a whole lot of point if I don’t have a signal.”

  Now he had noticed Brice and Mike closing in on the patrol car. His gaze didn’t leave them as he asked Ruth, “Are these the two men?”

  “Yes,” said Ruth, her voice breaking with fear. “That’s them. Can we get out of here?”

  The trooper ignored her question. He opened his door and got out, his weapon drawn. Keeping the hood of the patrol car between him and the two men, he pointed his gun straight at Brice and Mike. The smirk melted away from Brice’s face.

  “Stand where you are,” the trooper barked at them. “Place your hands slowly above your head, and lace your fingers together.”

  Having a gun pointed at them had what Ruth guessed was the desired effect. Trooper Leaf had their full attention. She couldn’t help a little tingle of enjoyment. After all, they’d pushed her around, threatened her, and generally scared the hell out of her. Now they were getting a little taste of their own medicine. It didn’t look like they were enjoying it all that much.

  “Okay, now get down onto your knees. Keep your hands on top of your heads.”

  Brice glared at her as he struggled to lower himself. If looks could have killed, Ruth thought.

  She watched as the trooper stepped out from behind the patrol car and moved behind the two men, his gun still on them. He was talking to them but, with the distance, she couldn’t tell what was being said. The trooper unclipped his handcuffs from his belt.

  Ruth waited for him to use them. He didn’t. Now Brice was doing most of the talking. Trooper Leaf holstered his gun.

  Brice kept talking. Ruth looked for a way of lowering the window. There wasn’t any. She tried to get out. She couldn’t do that either. Of course she couldn’t. She was in the back of a patrol car. The people who usually sat back here had been arrested.

  She wanted to know what lies Brice was telling. She could see him and his partner dropping their hands down. Trooper Leaf kept looking at her. Brice kept talking. The trooper put his hands on his hips. His expression was one of exasperation.

  A few more minutes passed. Brice dug a piece of paper out of his pocket along with his wallet. He opened the wallet and handed it to the trooper. While Trooper Leaf looked at Brice’s ID, Brice unfolded the piece of paper. They traded wallet and paper. The trooper looked over the paper, then handed it back to Brice.

  Apparently satisfied that the two men weren’t kidnappers, or an immediate danger, the trooper walked back to the patrol car. He came round to Ruth’s side and opened the door.

  “Step out of my car for a moment.”

  Ruth’s heart sank as she got out. She leaned against the trunk.

  “Okay, Ruth. I’ve spoken to Brice and Michael. They’ve also shown me the paperwork signed by your mother, and evidence that they are who they say they are, and that they’re properly insured to transport you to this residential facility.”

  A lump formed in her throat. Tears welled in her eyes. She swiped them away with the back of her sleeve. She didn’t want to come across as some overly emotional teenager. That would only make things worse. If they could get any worse.

  “I just want to call my dad. That’s all. If I can speak to him, even just for a minute, then I’ll do whatever you ask me t
o.”

  Trooper Leaf bit down on his lower lip. “That’s the thing. Your father, at least as far I’ve been told, doesn’t have custody. His visitation rights are limited to one weekend a month. Is that correct?”

  Where was this going? Just because she only saw her dad once a month, she couldn’t call him?

  “Yes, but—”

  The trooper cut her off as another patrol car swung fast into the gas station and pulled up just behind them. “I can let you make a call to your mother. Perhaps she can get a message to your father.”

  Ruth thought she’d lose it. Start screaming. Or hit someone. Was everyone around her insane? Her mom was the one who’d arranged this in the first place. Her mom hated her dad. That was why she’d fought so hard to make sure they didn’t see each other. It was her mom’s payback for her father leaving.

  “Don’t I have the right to make a phone call to whoever I want to?”

  “If you’d been arrested. You haven’t been arrested.”

  Ruth sensed a small irritation in the trooper’s voice as he said that.

  “Then I’m free to go?” said Ruth.

  “No, you’re a minor,” said the trooper. “And these two men here are fully insured escorts. Right now, they’re in in loco parentis, at least until you all get where you’re going. You know what that means? In loco parentis?”

  Ruth had listened to enough talk from her parents and her friends about court hearings and divorce courts to know that it meant, right now, Brice and Mike were her parents, as far as the law was concerned. What they said went.

  “But they kidnapped me! From my home.”

  “Your mom was there, right?”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “She asked them, no, she hired them, to take you to this facility.”

  “But I don’t want to go,” Ruth protested. She sounded like a bratty teenager. She knew she did. But it was so unfair.

 

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