Salvage

by Debbie Civil

Chapter 15

  It takes half an hour for me to go to the bathroom. Will insists that he needs to watch over me. I insist that if he doesn’t leave, I won’t pee. In the end, I resort to telling him that if he doesn’t leave, I won’t love him, and it works. I go to the bathroom, and when I’m at the porcelain sink washing my hands, I spot the camera, right over the toilet. Will is a nasty violator. He deserves to die ten times over for his actions. Though, the thought of killing him myself, makes me nauseous. I stare at the little room, standing shower, lime green walls, and the mosaic tiles. He must have a love for the hideous color. Someone needs to break it to him that lime green is an awful color. As soon as I dry my hands on the blue towel hanging from the towel rack, Will bursts in.

  “Come on, Darling. You must be hungry.

  “So he’s upgraded to calling me darling. How creepy. I hobble over to the door, still unbalanced and follow will back into the bedroom. There is a brown paper bag on the bed. I reach for it and see the contents. A wrapped sandwich, a bag of chips, some carrots, and an orange. I’m not in the mood to eat any of it. There are three glasses of water on the dresser. Will doesn’t want to go up and down the stairs to get me water. That’s clear. I sit on the bed and eat the peanut butter and fluff sandwich which has the crusts cut off, and chips. I won’t go anywhere near the raw carrots. The last time I had one, Peter had fed it to me. Oh Peter. At least he knows that I didn’t run off. I bet that’s exactly what they all thought when Mother couldn’t find me. I sigh and start peeling the orange. “Baby, try a carrot,” Will suggests.

  “No thanks,” I say, finding it painful to talk.

  “Why not? Carrots are good for you.”

  “Because, I don’t like them,” I snap like an irritable child. Will frowns and peers at me.

  “Chelsea, since this has been a stressful day, I’ll forgive you. But next time, I want you to eat everything on your plate or Ivy will be punished,” he warns. I gulp. So he’s going to slowly kill everyone. What’s wrong with Will? Doesn’t he understand that his behavior is irrational? Doesn’t he realize he will get caught? It doesn’t matter how ahead of the game he is. One slip up, like my stunt with his phone, will cost him his freedom.

  “Fine,” I whisper, too disgusted to say more. Will is insistent on making people pay for hurting me in the past. But he isn’t considering two things. Number one, I’ve done some horrible things to some of the people he’s punishing. Number two, punishing them is hurting me. There’s no way I can live with these many deaths. What I need to do is stall him so that the police have a chance to catch up.

  “Here’s some water,” Will says softly. This is my third cup. I take one swig, and something tastes off about it. The drink has a mineral taste to it. Will frowns when he sees my look.

  “What is this?” I ask slowly, my heart pounding.

  “This is something to help you sleep. I can’t have you wandering around. I need to get supplies,” Will explains. I look at him dumbly. Does he really think that I will drink this? Forget this, he needs to be taken down. I stare at the room and frown. There aren’t any visible weapons. Will’s a strong muscular man whose probably 300 pounds. Let’s just say that I don’t have a shot against him. Something tells me that none of the guys went peacefully. But Will was able to overwhelm them all, even Derrick, who’s the biggest and the strongest.

  “No, I’m not drinking this,” I hiss. Will stands and looks toward the door. He wants to torture Ivy, but since this sucker doesn’t lock, he can’t go get her. He swings at my head, but I’m able to duck. I’m not at a hundred percent, but if Will wants to dance, I’m game. He lunges for me. But I toss the cup of water in his face, momentarily blinding him. My body is sluggish and sore, but I still manage to get out of the room. Will is following close behind. He’s fast. There’s no way I can outrun him. So, this will require a dirty trick.

  “Chelsea, if you don’t stop, I will kill one of them. I’m not kidding with you. You will watch as I…” I spin around and knee him. Like every other guy, Will falls to the ground. I scan around, desperate for a weapon to bash his skull in with. My flip-flops won’t do anything. So I improvise. I step on will’s throat. He begins to choke, and I do anything in my power to shut him out. I’m about to jump, to end this torture when I feel sharp pain explode in the back of my skull. I don’t even know if I fall. The only thing I know is blackness.

  “Is she dead?” Will asks. I want to tell him to shut up, but it hurts too much to move my jaw. I’m lying in bed, with the blankets tucked up to my chin.

  “How am I supposed to know? Ivy knows more about medical stuff than me,” Molly whines.

  “Why did you hit her?” Will asks. His voice is raspy. So I did do some damage.

  “Dude, the crazy chick was trying to kill you,” a new voice replies. So that’s why I felt the pain on.

  “Gary, I told you, Chelsea is off limits. You can hit anyone else, but her,” Will protests.

  “Man, she was trying to kill you. What else was I supposed to do?” His friend sounds frustrated. If I were in his shoes, I would feel the same way. Imagine that, the idiot is too love struck to thank his friend for saving his life. Seriously, what's Will’s deal?

  “But, you almost killed her,” Will whines like a child who had his favorite toy broken by his kid brother.

  “Will, she’s fine. Trust me. I didn’t hit her that hard,” Gary assures.

  “She’s been asleep for five hours,” he protests.

  “I think her sleepiness has to do with the water you gave her. Any minute, Chelsea will wake up, and you can give her the news.” Gary seems thrilled by the prospect.

  “Right. So Gary, did you choose a girl?” Will asks. The room falls silent.

  “I want Ivy,” Gary says, and Molly’s shriek causes pain to pound through my head. But I fight against it and open my eyes. Will is standing by the foot of the bed holding a knife. Molly is pressed up against the wall closest to the door, and this new threat, Gary, is standing over by the window with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks sad. “Please! I helped you Will! What about Peter? I can help you some more. If you want, I can help you kill Peter Jacobs.”

  “Chelsea’s right. You are evil,” Will declares before he raises the knife.

  “No,” I croak. “Please, Will, don’t do this.” I’m probably going to be too late, but I force myself to stand. The room is tilting, so I hold onto the bedposts for balance. Suddenly, I’m overcome by nausea, and I projectile vomit all over the lime green walls. Will lets out a cry and shouts.

  “Gary, what have you done? No, she’s sick. This is all your fault!” I’m encumbered by sickness so can’t take this opportunity to escape. This sucks. Willy’s guard is completely down, and I don’t have any shot at escaping. This bites! I continue to vomit until everything in my stomach is gone.

  “Oh, Chelsea! Oh Chelsea, baby, I’m so sorry,” he cries. I don’t listen to him because my head is aching so much that I’m about to claw my hair out to get some relief.

  “Will, focus, man. She’s sick. Kill the broad and take Molly. I’ll have Ivy and…” There’s a grunt, and then silence.

  “This is all your fault, Gary. You are dead to me. You hear that? Ray Coffer, you are dead to me!” Will wails. So Gary isn’t his real name. How interesting. He slipped enough to call Gary by his real name. Is my abductor’s real name Will? Now that’s something that I haven’t considered. “Gary, you will be tried just like the other men in Chelsea’s life. Everyone always hurts her. Why do men always hurt Chelsea?” I open my eyes and wince against the sunlight. My stomach rolls at the smell of vomit that permeates the air. I carefully turn around and see Will. He’s standing by the side of the bed, with his back to me. His shoulders are slumped in defeat. I should move. That’s more than apparent. “It’s all your fault. I can’t believe you did this to me. You were my best friend. How could he?” Will is in a trance. That means that I need to take advantage of this. I carefully walk barefoot acro
ss the room. When I get to the door, I realize that Molly’s gone. She probably used my puking distraction to hightail it out of here. Let’s hope that she brought the others. Somehow, I highly doubt it. I walk out of the room and carefully walk down the stairs. I’m hoping that I have enough strength to save the others. I can’t leave them. Not if I know that they are trapped here because of me. I hear a commotion in the living room and start to panic. Is there another staircase? Has will caught me.

  “Let’s go, Derrick,” James pleads.

  “Dude, I’m not leaving Chelsea with him,” Derrick hisses.

  “I agree. He’ll kill her,” Molly argues. That’s a shocker. I thought Molly would be more than happy to leave me behind. I open my mouth, but stop myself from shouting. What would be the point in that? I need to get away, not give away my position. I slowly make my way into the living room. The world is fuzzy, and I feel like I am going to collapse.

  “Chelsea,” Derrick calls. He’s probably spotted me. The next thing I know, I’m scooped up into strong arms, vomit and all.

  “Let’s go,” James hisses at Derrick.

  “She’s heavy,” Derrick complains and I whisper an apology. Will has probably drugged and underfed the boys. I’m sure it’s taking Derrick all he has to carry me out alive. The motion of his body is moving toward the doors making me sick. I focus on the pathway that I have to take. Out of the living room and into the hideous lime green kitchen, out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Then we hit daylight. It’s both relieving and painful, so I close my eyes. I hear a mother running.

  “That car won’t fit us all,” Molly protests.

  “I don’t care. We don’t have the time to look for Will’s keys. We’re just lucky that the other guy was stupid enough to leave his car running,” James snaps.

  “Molly, you drive. You are the strongest,” Ivy suggests. I hear car doors opening, and I’m handed off to James, who looks battered and bruised. Derrick slides into the back seat, and James gently helps me to my feet. I wobble.

  “Sit in Derrick’s lap,” he instructs me. And I push myself to hurry into the car. I slide onto Derrick’s lap and press my head against the window. James slides in next to me and doesn’t pull the door closed. The smell of my vomit is making me sick. But I will tolerate it. Ivy slide in beside James and I frown. Who’s getting into the front seat? And then I see the back of his dark hair as he hobbles into the car. Gary had come here with a new arrival, Jack smith, Molly’s ex-boyfriend. Seriously, I haven’t even thought about Jack. To be honest, other than spray painting the word “Dike” on my locker last year, he hasn’t done anything to me.

  “GO,” James orders and the car squeals out of the parking lot.

  “Do you have any idea where we are?” Ivy asks Molly.

  “No clue. But I figure that anywhere is better than being with that creep,” she replies. I’m uncomfortable because the car is moving so fast. I shift around, but Derrick doesn’t complain.

  “What happened up there?” Ivy asks.

  “Chelsea saved my life. That’s what happened. In fact, she saved all of our lives by attacking Will the other day. He was supposed to start his trials. But Gary punching her lights out delayed it. He didn’t want to try all of us until Chelsea was well,” Molly explains.

  “So I helped by getting my ass kicked?” I asked, feeling like this sucks.

  “How are we going to figure out where we are?” Ivy asks.

  “Check the dash,” I direct, thinking that my old group of friends don’t have much going for them, upstairs.

  “A GPS!” Ivy Squeals. “And five hundred dollars in cash. I’m guessing this is gas money.”

  “No, change,” I correct thinking that Gary had picked up something for Will. That’s why the car was running. He hadn’t been planning to stay.

  “How do you know that?” Ivy asks, confused. I don’t answer because it hurts too much to talk.

  “Does Gary have a cell phone in there?” Derrick asks.

  “No. Just a Tom-Tom, money, and some gum.”

  “Where are we?” I ask.

  “Vermont,” Ivy announces, dejected.

  “That explains everything,” I mutter.

  “He probably kept on drugging me during the ride,” Jack says, sounding frustrated.

  “Let’s go find a police station,” Ivy suggests and my instincts tell me that her suggestion is a wrong one.

  “No. He has a friend in this department. Let’s just go to Gately. Grandma can hide all of us,” I say. The car is silent. It seems that none of them have been clued in on the fact that my family is very wealthy. They aren’t the types that watch the news, so they probably don’t know much about my case.

  “You really have a rich Grandmother? I thought that Adam made it up,” Ivy confesses. I’m too tired to tell the whole story, and nobody makes me.

  After an hour, we see civilization again. Will is probably on high alert. Maybe he has even reported Garry’s car missing. I can see it now. But maybe the Gately police are keeping tabs on us. Surely, they found Adam and Teresa and know that this is a serious case. I see a church up ahead and signal for Molly to pull over.

  “Check the trunk. I need water,” I rasp. Molly pulls into the church’s parking lot and presses a button to pop the trunk. She hops out of the car and takes two minutes to return to us. Everyone in the car aside from me are really anxious. Maybe they think that will is following them. But I’m not sure of anything. My mouth is too dry. She returns with a blanket and hands it over to Ivy. Ivy carefully helps Derrick wrap it around me. Then she gets another blanket for Ivy, who nods in thanks. It isn’t cold outside, but it’s nice, not looking at my vomit. On her third trip back to the car, Molly carries three bulging plastic bags. She hands them all one by one to Jack and drives off. Jack searches through the bags.

  “Here,” he says. Ivy reaches out and takes a bottle of water and a bag of potato chips and sighs longingly. She opens the water and holds it to my lips. I tilt my head back and drink. My hands are too weak to hold the bottle. The water is like a soothing balm for my throat. I drink greedily, but Ivy pulls the bottle back.

  “Small sips,” she tells me softly, and I comply. After I’ve drunken half the bottle, Ivy opens the bag of chips and feeds me one. It’s hard to eat, but I force myself to. It’s better than nothing. After a while, I finish the water bottle and a handful of chips. It’s then that she frowns. Derrick is hungry too. They all are.

  “Thanks for not leaving me, Derrick,” I say softly. He sighs.

  “Chelsea, I wouldn’t have left you with that monster,” he confesses. And despite Ivy’s attempts of keeping me awake. I fall asleep once we hit the New Hampshire state line.

  “So, do you think he’s coming back for us?” Ivy asks. I’m awake now and am still in the car. My eyes reluctantly open and I wince. It’s not as bright as earlier. It’s close to sundown. But I’m still light sensitive.

  “I’m not sure,” Derrick answers in a thoughtful voice. His voice rumbles against my back.

  “I still don’t get how we got out,” Jack says. He’s the more curious one of the bunch and doesn’t know how to drop the subject. Molly is silent. She doesn’t want to talk about how Will was going to discard her, even after she offered to find Peter.

  “I was throwing up,” I rasp, just to keep Jack from asking any more questions.

  “So. What did that have anything to do with why Will was so distracted?”

  “He argued with Gary saying that it was his fault. Then, he stabbed his friend in the stomach. Chelsea was still throwing up, and I knew that I couldn’t carry her. So I untied you guys hoping that we could take Will on. But Chelsea, thank goodness, made it down the stairs before we could try to fight Will off,” Molly answers sharply. She’s traumatized. That’s what it all comes down to. Molly probably can’t reconcile with the fact that Will was willing to take out his friend in cold blood just because the idiot gave me a concussion. I sympathize with her. It
’s difficult to understand why anyone would take a life. Seeing death isn’t easy. I’m just glad that I didn’t have to see Will plunge the knife into Garry’s stomach. That image would have haunted me for years.