Their laughter and harrowing stories of the woman—or the fish—that got away had been undisturbed by the 66
screaming. Even Ray was continuing to polish a glass as if nothing had happened.
Had she really been the only one to hear it?
“Migraine,” Ash lied. “Guess all that amaretto went to my head.” Better that he write her off as a lightweight than think she was some kook who heard imaginary screams.
Before Ash could even try to sell this theory, a second scream perforated her brain. This one was a short blast rather than a prolonged wail, but far crisper, as though the person screaming had settled on Ash’s frequency. Closer this time too. The screamer could have been standing directly behind her.
Then a cleaver chopped down and severed the connection between Ashline and the scream.
While the rest of the bar continued with their drinks undisturbed, Ash heard a splash of beads behind her.
Lily emerged from the pool room, spooked, and Ade and Rolfe appeared at her side, both looking equally alert and frantic. In the far corner Raja, too, had straightened up, a panicked gleam in her eye.
No way could it have been coincidence.
So they had heard it as well.
The scream still echoed hollowly in Ashline’s ears.
“I’m sorry, Colt,” she apologized, and slipped past him.
“I . . . I have to get some air.”
She vaguely heard Colt’s confused protests as she darted for the door, as well as shouts from Jackie and Darren. She stumbled over a stool on the way out, but 67
shoved it out of her path and dove for the door, barging out into the night.
The cold damp air was like a welcome slap to the face as she staggered into the parking lot. She placed her hands on her hips and paced, drawing in deep breaths.
She let the dew calm her, relax her, carry her away from the screaming.
With a crack the door shot open again. This time Rolfe, Ade, and Lily came through it, with Raja in their wake. Rolfe was tapping himself on the temple, as if he could knock the sound out of his head. It must have still been ringing in his ears as well.
The five of them stood there in silence, fanned out into a pentagon. Raja, with her arms crossed, was the first to speak. “So I guess I’m not the only one who heard the dog whistle from hell.”
Rolfe gave his ear a final slap. “If that was a dog whistle, I’ll eat my shirt. Although that would explain why Lily heard it.”
“Shut it, surfer boy.” Lily kicked him in the shin.
“I don’t know what it was either.” Ade scanned the parking lot. “But I think somebody needs help.”
On cue the scream echoed across the pavement, only this time it sounded like the typical scream from somebody who was in desperate trouble . . . and it was coming from the alleyway behind the general store, two storefronts down.
Raja was the first to spring into action, with the other 68
four in close pursuit. The dust flew out from under their feet, and they reached the edge of the general store in record time, slipping down the alley of the adjoining bed-and-breakfast. The scream descended to a series of shrieks and sobs, and when they drew closer to the source of the noise, they could hear something even more terrifying—the hurried whisper of male voices.
By the time Ash approached the end of the alleyway, the buzz of alcohol had been replaced with the thrum of adrenaline in her veins, and she rocketed forward, pushing past Raja and taking the lead.
When they spilled out into the clearing behind the buildings, she first noticed the men—two of them, cloaked in dark clothes and camouflage hats. One was in the process of opening the back door to a green windowless van. The other had his hands wrapped around the waist of a petite blond girl, who was clutching desperately to the railing of the general store loading dock.
And when the girl flailed her head to the side, revealing the face behind her endlessly long blond hair, Ash recognized her: Serena Andreotes, a freshman at Blackwood.
She had hair so fair it was nearly white, which descended all the way down to her waist. Her skin was almost as light—not quite to the point of being albino, but certainly pale compared to the olive complexion Ash associ-ated with the Mediterranean. Her most stunning feature was her eyes, two irises of vibrant gray that gave her a commanding presence despite her diminutive stature.
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It was thus all the more ironic that Serena Andreotes was completely blind.
Everybody stopped what they were doing. Ash studied the two kidnappers in the insane silence of the alleyway, and they studied her and the others right back. Even Serena had stopped squirming when she’d heard the footsteps round the corner. Although Ash guessed that she was trying to determine whether the new arrivals had to come to rescue her or whether they were possibly rein-forcements for her kidnappers.
For a few interminable seconds, as they all tottered on the precipice of madness, Ash could only hear the wind in her ears and smell the faint scent of garbage rising from the nearby Dumpster.
Rolfe was the first to break the silence and vocalize precisely what Ash had on her own mind, but distilled down into three simple words:
“What the hell?”
Those three words stirred the parking lot back into motion, sending the scene from pause to fast-forward.
The man who had been opening the van grabbed hold of Serena’s ankles and, along with the second man, began to tug, trying to break her hold on the railing so they could complete the abduction before the new arrivals could interfere.
But so too had the students sprung to life. Ade lunged forward, with his enormous hands poised to attack. The man holding Serena’s legs quickly but calmly released 70
her and stepped toward the bear of a human being who was charging him. Ade had made it to within an arm’s length when the kidnapper grabbed one of the boy’s arms and threw him against the back wall of the general store.
Before Ade could react, the man punished him with a brutal blow to his stomach.
But Ash wasn’t about to stand by and let Ade fall.
Fueled only by adrenaline and rage, and letting reason and fear take a backseat, Ash scooped up Serena’s fallen walking stick. The soldier holding Ade was just bringing back his fist, this time to strike Ade in the face, when Ash swung the wooden staff around. The metal orb on top of it walloped the man in the nose, instantly breaking it.
Blood spurted out of his nostrils and onto the pavement.
Ash held out the cane, ready to strike again should she need to. Meanwhile, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lily free the pepper spray from her purse and charge Serena’s other captor. She released a battle cry and let loose a stream intended for the man’s eyes. He dodged the spray, but at the price of releasing his grip on Serena.
The two kidnappers must have reached the conclu-sion simultaneously that, despite whatever combat training they’d had, they had quickly lost control of what should have been an uncomplicated abduction. With Ashline’s attention momentarily diverted, the man with the broken nose easily hip-checked her as he dove into the back of the van, and Ash collapsed silently to the dusty street. The other man slipped through Rolfe’s grasp 71
and clambered into the front seat. The tires screeched against pavement, and the van barreled down the alleyway and onto the main drag, with the back doors still flapping open.
Ash used the walking stick to stand up, and then let it clatter to the pavement next to her. Rolfe crossed over and helped Ade, who was rubbing his stomach tenderly, to his feet. Raja had her hands on her hips and was staring at the skid marks the van had left, while Lily slipped the pepper spray back into her purse.
Then, as one, they all turned to look at Serena.
The petite girl used the railing to pull herself slowly to her feet. Considering that she’d kept at bay two men twice her size, it was astonishing that she stood barely five feet tall at eighty-five pounds. Her face looked even paler than usual—she always remind
ed Ash of an ivory stone that had spent years churned and tossed by the sea, to eventually wash ashore milky and smooth on a foreign coast.
What was most unsettling was that, although Serena looked flustered and out of breath, she lacked the one crucial expression that Ash and her other four schoolmates currently shared: confusion.
“Are you all right, Serena?” Ash asked. She placed a hand on the girl’s elbow. “This is Ashline Wilde, by the way.”
“Thank you, Ash,” Serena said in her light and airy voice. “Did you fend off those two men all by yourself?”
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Even as she asked, her blind eyes shrewdly looked to where the other four had clustered.
“She had a little help,” Raja said, and picked up the walking stick. The shiny orb on the top was caked with the kidnapper’s blood. She wrinkled her nose with disgust. “Why don’t I clean this up before I give it back to you?”
Serena just nodded, the disconcerting grin not leaving her face. “I definitely heard Rolfe Hanssen as well.”
“Guilty as charged,” Rolfe said.
“Lily and Ade, too,” Ade offered helpfully.
Serena giggled, a strange and ghostly laugh. “At least we’ll have something to talk about during photography tomorrow, won’t we, Lily?”
Lily squinted at her. “You’re not in my—oh, we’re making jokes now?”
Ash withdrew her cell phone from her purse. “Well, I can’t imagine this will go over well with the headmistress, but we’re going to have to call the cops.” She flipped the phone open.
Before she could even dial a single digit, Serena’s hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist, with such ferocity that Ash actually jumped. Serena’s grip was stronger than Ash would have imagined for such a small girl. Then again, Serena had spent at least a full minute clinging to the dock railing for dear life.
“No,” Serena whispered. “No police.”
“Are you kidding me?” Raja said. “Two men in 73
dark clothes and camo just tried to pull a blind girl—
no offense—into a windowless van. That’s some pretty twisted shit.”
“We’ve even got some of their blood.” Lily pointed to the walking stick in Raja’s hands. “Maybe they can do some of their DNA hocus-pocus and track these guys down.”
“No. Police,” Serena repeated, breaking down the words with finality.
“Those were your bookies, weren’t they?” Rolfe suggested. “You have a gambling problem and they came to collect.”
Serena giggled hoarsely again. “When you can’t see the cards, you do lose your chips awfully fast.” When no one laughed and she seemed to sense that everyone was still staring at her, she said, “Listen, I’m really tired.
It has to be well after midnight. Two dudes just chased me down the street and tried to throw me into a van . .
. and I have an algebra quiz first period. Do you know how exhausting it is to take a test in braille? So do me a favor. . . . Let me get a good night’s rest, sleep it off, and go about my day, and I’ll give the cops a statement when I’m good and ready.”
Ash opened her mouth to argue, but the phone, which was still open in her hand, suddenly chimed to life. Startled at first, she glanced down at the caller ID.
Darren’s photo popped up on the screen. “Shit,” she mumbled. “Sorry. I have to take this.”
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She hit the send button, and before she could even get a word out, Darren’s harsh whisper exploded out through the phone. “Where the hell are you, Ash?”
Ash breathed with relief. At least they hadn’t left without her, and it was comforting to hear a friendly voice. “Long story. Just sort of got held up with a couple of other outlaws from Blackwood, and . . . Wait, why are you whispering?”
Darren scoffed on the other end of the phone, and she heard Jackie hiss something at him in the background.
The phone thumped around as it changed hands, and Jackie spoke into the receiver. “We’re whispering because the sheriff just crashed the party here at the Bent Horseshoe.
Headmistress Riley must have noticed a few too many empty beds tonight, or empty spaces in the parking garage. All I know is that Darren and I are hiding on the floor in his truck and waiting for you to get that hot little ass of yours over here!”
“Shit,” Ash cursed. “Listen, Jackie, I’m here with friends. You and Darren get the hell out of there. I’ll find my own way back.”
“Okay,” Jackie said hesitantly. “But if I check your bed in an hour and you’re not in it, I’m heading back to town with my hunting rifle and getting you.” The phone clicked off.
“Picnic’s over,” Ash said, and flipped her phone closed. “The headmistress is on to us, and the sheriff and his posse decided to crash our little party.”
“Last chance,” Rolfe offered Serena. “We can walk you right up to the sheriff and help you give your statement.
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Hell, the excitement from all this might convince the headmistress not to crack down on us.”
Serena’s gray eyes gleamed in the dim light of the alley. “Just get me back to campus.”
“You can ride in my Audi,” Lily told Serena.
“What about you?” Ash asked Raja. “Is your broom parked nearby?”
“Hilarious.” Raja was grimly scrolling through a text on her own phone. “Colt was my ride, and he’s inside distracting the sheriff with ranger talk, so looks like I’m squeezing in with you guys too.”
The six Blackwood escapees scurried down the alleyway, with Ash leading Serena by the hand. The girl seemed to be finding their entire escapade pleasantly amusing despite her attempted abduction just minutes earlier. Though, to be fair, Serena was something of a loner on campus. It was safe for Ashline to say that this was probably the most excitement the girl had experienced in a long while.
They reached the mouth of the alley, and from their cloak of darkness on the lampless street corner, they studied the scene in front of the Bent Horseshoe. A green Ford Explorer with “Sheriff” stenciled on the side was parked prominently in front of the entrance to the saloon, the red and blues on top flickering to lend it some limp presence of authority. Ash had met the sheriff once when he’d stopped by Blackwood for a school assembly on wilderness survival back in the dead of winter. He didn’t strike 76
her as the type to kick through the saloon doors and start busting heads, especially at a watering hole where he was regularly entitled to free beer.
Leaning against the Ford Explorer was a very young and somnolent deputy, who seemed far more concerned with puffing away at his cigarette than paying the bar any mind.
Lily’s silver convertible was parked at the end of the line of cars in front of the saloon, its top down and glimmering with a fresh coat of dew. Ash stifled a laugh. “An Audi with a soft top in a line of pickups and rental cars?
Way to blend in with the locals, Lily.”
Lily shrugged. “Dad always says, ‘If you can’t stand out, then you should just sit down.’”
“Lifestyles of the rich and famous,” Raja muttered.
“You five hang back and get ready to run,” Rolfe said.
“I’m going to set up a little distraction for Officer Dopey over there. As soon as he walks away, get the car going and start driving for the roadway.” And then he treaded silently through the shadows before vanishing around the back of the Bent Horseshoe.
They did as they were told, tensely waiting in the darkness. Lily’s keys jingled in her hand. Raja crouched low to the ground like a sprinter about to fly out of the blocks.
Ash rubbed a hand reassuringly up and down Serena’s back, although Ash was probably the one in greater need of comforting. What did Serena have to worry about anyway? After all, if she hadn’t been drinking, she was guilty 77
only of breaking curfew, and Ash couldn’t imagine the police or the headmistress being particularly harsh to a blind girl.
Just beyond the Bent Horseshoe the silence of
the night was interrupted by the shattering of a glass bottle against the side of the bar. The deputy’s cigarette paused on its trip to his lips, and he turned in the direction of the noise. Still, he didn’t move, as if he were debating whether it was above his pay grade to investigate a mysterious bottle smashing.
“Marv?” the deputy called out. “If that’s you again, I’m literally going to kick you in your big dumpy ass.”
There was no reply for a few tantalizing seconds until Rolfe gave him a response: the sound of another bottle shattering.
The deputy threw his cigarette to the ground, toed it out, and then set off to investigate the disturbance.
“Marvin, you drunken bastard, I swear to God . . .” He disappeared around the corner.
As if Satan himself were nipping at their heels, Ash and the others took off. Ade gently but powerfully heaved Serena up into his arms and then onto his back in a fireman’s carry. Lily reached the Audi first, slipping the keys into the ignition before she’d even closed her door. Raja hurdled over the passenger-side door and into the front seat, while Ade and Ash sandwiched Serena, whom Ade had buckled into the middle.
Gravel spat up from beneath the tires, and the 78
convertible shot backward out of its space, with no regard for stealth. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the side of the bar, and Rolfe exploded from around the corner, running up alongside the car. He grabbed hold of the passenger-side door and vaulted into the convertible
. . . directly onto Raja’s lap.
Rolfe, still panting and out of breath, managed to toss his hair suavely to the side and purse his lips at the beautiful Egyptian girl. Without missing a beat he said, “This year, Santa, I’d like a pony and an Easy-Bake Oven.”
Raja grunted and pushed him off to the side. “You’ll be getting coal in a place where it hurts if you ever attempt to sit in my lap again.” She scooted closer to the gearshift.
With a shout of delight Lily brought her foot down hard on the gas. Ash glanced over her shoulder through the dust cloud trailing behind them, scanning the storefronts for any sign of the deputy. He was probably still investigating the “disturbance” behind the saloon, but they weren’t out of hot water yet. All it would take would be a wail of the siren, a bleep of the horn, a harsh order from a bullhorn to pull over, and they were finished.
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