by C. C. Ekeke
Quinn shook her head. She didn’t want to die. Not like this.
Tears silently rolled down her cheeks as she consoled Annie’s anguish. The only other noises were the spurts of muffled activity outside their cell. Occasional footsteps followed by some inaudible discussions between the siphoners. There seemed to be just four of them.
After a few minutes or hours of idle listening and contemplating her fate, images of their captors flashed through Quinn’s mind. Recalling what led to this nightmare kept her from falling apart.
Then she began recalling tiny details, like how Dan always had a gun holstered to his left hip. Or how there seemed to be nothing locking their cell door except an iron latch. Or…the identical door across the hall to this cell.
Quinn straightened. Somewhere in that snarl of useless memories came the germ of a plan. She dismissed this harebrained nonsense at first. Too risky. Quinn was an aspiring journalist, not some superhero. But she couldn’t shake her refusal to lie down and die for these siphoner scumbags. And with that plan came hope.
Quinn was escaping this place with her friends. And she knew how.
But first…she needed a co-conspirator. “Annie?”
Annie turned her head, looking up with forlorn, red-rimmed eyes.
“We’re getting out of here,” Quinn continued in the conversational Spanish she’d learned from high school and the college. “All of us.”
Annie jerked up to a seated position, pushing disheveled hair from her face. Of course she understood as a fluent speaker with parents from El Salvador. Annie opened her mouth, clearly bewildered.
Quinn gave a terse head shake to interrupt, glancing around their cell to state They could be listening.
Understanding bled into Annie’s features. “How?” she replied in Spanish, her voice throaty from exhaustion and crying.
The relief Quinn felt made her sway. “I have a plan,” she stated in Spanish. “And I feel it can get us and the other girls out of this murder house.”
Annie leaned back on her hands. Her tear-filled eyes bulged. “But…but…we don’t know how many of them are there,” she whimpered, unaware how much she sounded like an overdramatic telenovela character.
That doubt didn’t shake Quinn’s confidence. “Four,” she replied evenly, “just like at their house. I was listening to them outside while you were napping.”
Seeing Annie still captivated, Quinn went on. “The door is locked by some latch. And across the hall is an identical door with the same latch,” she said. “One or more of the girls have to be in there.”
Quinn then thought of the key element needed for this escape to work. “The douchebag who visited us before and after Vishal has been the same guy, always carrying a gun.”
Annie grabbed Quinn by the shoulders. “Yes…a gun, Quinn,” she whisper-yelled. By her panicked expression, she seemed to be doubting Quinn’s sanity. “A gun that he could shoot us with!”
Her reaction was understandable. But Quinn’s plan needed two people to work. She had to get Annie’s help. “Would you rather we stay here and get sucked away until there’s nothing left?”
Emotions spasmed across Annie’s tear-stained face. She let go of Quinn and did some quick thinking. “Are you sure?”
Quinn offered a reassuring smile that she didn’t fully buy. But what choice was there? “It’ll take a lot of luck and impeccable timing, but I think it can work.”
Annie sucked in a fortifying breath. “Okay,” she acquiesced. “What’s the plan, and how can I help?”
Those were the sweetest words Quinn had ever heard.
With Annie on board, Quinn ran down her plan plus what roles each of them would play.
To her surprise, Annie agreed to every part of the plan without hesitation.
Quinn sighed, proud of her BFF. Now they had to wait for Dan to come feed off of them.
The wait wasn’t long. After a rusted scraping and jangle of the outside latch, the door opened again.
Dan strode inside with a smirk like the king of the universe. “Good day, ladies.”
Boiling hate surged through Quinn at the sight of this monster. She grabbed Annie’s hand for strength as her bestie looked equally sickened.
Dan had changed into a tank top and jeans. His fit and firm physique made Quinn briefly question how the heck she and Annie were supposed to take that guy. Plus, how much time had passed?
Those worries evaporated the instant Quinn spotted the gun hanging from his hip. We can do this.
The siphoner glanced at the untouched plate of food but barely reacted. “You know what I’m here for,” he reminded, as if doing them a favor. “Let’s not make things difficult. Okay?”
Quinn exchanged glances with Annie. Her BFF looked beyond panicked, almost pleading, then calmed and nodded subtly.
That was all the reassurance Quinn needed. “Just get it over with,” she said in English with a shrug.
Dan’s sneering satisfaction turned her stomach. “Good girl.” He spread his arms wide. “Who’s first?”
Quinn gave Annie’s hand one last squeeze before standing. “Me.” Her heart raced so fast, she felt dizzy. “Me.”
Dan made a beckoning hand motion. “Come closer.”
Quinn approached. So much fear coursed through her body. Then she remembered the alternative. A slow, withering death. Quinn kept walking until she stood a few inches away.
The siphoner reached for Quinn, smug in his superiority. “I’ll only take a little this—AAGH!”
Quinn punched Dan in the throat.
He stumbled back, eyes nearly popping out.
Quinn gaped back as Dan clutched his Adam’s apple, struggling for breath. She shook her brief surprise off and field-goal punted Dan between the legs. There was a loud groan before Dan sank to his knees, clutching both crotch and throat.
That was Annie’s cue. She leaped forward despite her heels and grabbed for Dan’s gun. The siphoner was in such obvious pain, he couldn’t stop her.
Now Annie stumbled back, awkwardly holding Dan’s gun. “Holy shit, that actually worked,” she murmured. That befuddlement would’ve had Quinn rolling with laughter under different circumstances.
She nodded at their subdued captor. “Hit him again.”
Annie advanced and swung the gun as hard as she could, cracking Dan upside the head. The impact of chromium steel on bone made Quinn recoil.
He tumbled over. A red gash appeared on the side of his head. The siphoner lay still, worms of dark red leaking from his hair, perfect nightmare fuel once Quinn got out of this. Regardless, Dan seemed to still be breathing.
She snatched the gun away from a horror-struck Annie. “Let me see that.” By no means was Quinn a gun expert. But one visit with Devon’s family in Amarillo, Texas, she knew more than enough about how to wield and dismantle firearms. A faint smile spread across Quinn’s face as she manipulated the pistol and unloaded the magazine. Hopefully, she would get to thank Devon face to face for those lessons.
Quinn’s heart lightened when she pulled out the gun clip. “Full magazine.” If everything went as planned, she and Annie would never have to fire this. Quinn shoved the clip back into the gun, checked the weapon again, then handed it back to a stunned Annie.
“When did you learn to use a gun, Lady Rambo?” her BFF asked, watching her like they’d never met.
“Spring break sophomore year with Devon,” Quinn reminded. “We went clay shooting.” She turned to Dan, who hadn’t moved since they’d dropped him.
Eyeing the door, Quinn heard no movement from outside. Hopefully, their other captors hadn’t heard anything. Thank god. “Aim at him and keep back,” she instructed Annie. “You don’t want his pheromone mind-control thingy affecting you.”
Annie nodded and pointed the gun at Dan, keeping a wide berth between them. Her hands trembled, but her face was a mask of determination.
Quinn’s heart warmed when she saw this, despite the adrenaline spiking through her. “Annie?” she wh
ispered.
Annie glanced at her. “Yeah?”
“Good job.”
Annie smiled for the first time since their capture. “Thanks!”
Quinn scurried to the door and slowly opened it to make as little sound as possible. Other than a terror-inducing creak, her exit was noiseless.
Cool air from the hallway filled Quinn’s nostrils. The walls were the same rusty container-type as inside the cell. Glancing back and forth, Quinn saw another door a few feet down and one directly across the narrow hallway. What gratified her more was spotting the rectangular latch securing the door. No external lock was visible. In short, she just had to slide the latch back to open the door.
I was right. Quinn’s elation soared. She advanced on the door and tugged on the large, rusty latch.
It didn’t budge.
Quinn’s smile fell. “You’re kidding.” She tugged again with more force. The latch was stuck in place.
Panic gripped Quinn, but she couldn’t give up now. Maybe it was because of those siphoners that Quinn was too weak to move this thing. Or maybe those siphoners were stronger than they appeared. Quinn could have used Annie’s help, but then who would guard Dan?
Quinn shook her head, steeling her resolve. I have to do this. She kept tugging and tugging until the latch moved ever so slightly.
Hope blossomed anew. Quinn yanked at the latch with all her diminished strength, arm muscles burning. “C’mon. C’mon,” she grunted through gritted teeth.
Finally, the latch slid back.
“Victory,” Quinn whispered joyfully and moved to open the door.
A guttural growl from the prison cell she’d escaped, followed by Annie’s shriek, then a gunshot loud enough to wake the dead.
Quinn spun around, every drop of hope evaporating. “Oh crap.”
Chapter 5
Quinn couldn’t remember who had made the first move. She barely recalled the carpool from the Blue Nile over to the 9th Ward townhouse where Dan and his friends lived.
Quinn was now sitting on the patio couch under a cloudy, muggy night, her body pressed against Dan’s as they kissed passionately. Her fingers slid beneath his shirt on their own, finding purchase on rock-hard muscle. Dan’s hands wandered all over her body in ways that made her toes curl.
The rest of Quinn’s friends were inside the living room with Dan’s friends, their boisterous laughter subdued through walls. All Quinn cared about was that she couldn’t keep her hands off Dan. Never had she felt such hunger for any guy. Raw and unbridled hunger, reducing her brain to mush. This unfamiliar lack of restraint snapped Quinn out of her lust.
“Whoa…” She pulled away from Dan’s lips to clear her head. But Dan kept leaning in for another kiss.
Quinn pushed him back, caressing his well-formed chest. “Slow down, big boy.”
Dan stopped and stared, momentary surprise in his green eyes. “We can take it slow…” he stated with an understanding smile. “Or fast.” The smile grew mischievous.
The promise in his flirty talk sounded thrilling. She turned her face away and giggled, or else she’d lunge and tear his clothes off. “You like it fast, don’t you?” she murmured, shaking her head.
Dan cupped her chin, turning her face back to him. “I’d rather enjoy every inch of you with every inch of me.”
Quinn’s eyes bulged. “Oh, milord!” She was blushing hard enough to scorch her scalp. Lust was clogging up her thoughts worse than before. “You’re corny,” she remarked, unable to escape those eyes.
Dan leaned in again like a predator. “More like horny.”
All of a sudden, he was kissing her again. And Quinn was kissing him back, tugging his shirt up off of that gorgeous body and…
“Mmmmm.” Quinn jerked away again. Had she drunk that much tonight? Either way, this thing with Dan was moving too fast.
“Let me…” Quinn began, popping up to her feet to put some distance between them. “I gotta freshen up, okay?” With some space, she could figure out if she really wanted this one-night stand. “Where’s your restroom?”
“First right outside the bedroom,” Dan remarked, revealing no dismay over her reluctance. He reclined in the seat with a playful look, long limbs spread out. God, he was sexy. “Take your time, baby.”
Quinn smiled. “Thanks!” She moved to walk to the door, only for Dan to catch her hand and kiss it softly.
“Don’t take too long!” he teased.
Quinn almost let him drag her back into his arms just to taste his lips again. “You’re so much trouble,” she said with a giggle, pushing his face away and scurrying to the patio door.
Stepping back into the bedroom, Quinn stopped and cringed.
Annie was mounting the lanky frame of that Indian boy, Vishal, the pair groping and making out.
“Oh, Annie…” Quinn groaned. Annie’s decision-making skill went out the window after too much alcohol. Normally Quinn and their other friends might have stepped in. But by how this situation appeared, Annie was the aggressor and didn’t seem that plastered.
Quinn blinked and swallowed any judgement. Jesus…
Now she’d have to hide another drunken mistake from Annie’s live-in boyfriend, Johnny. Ugh. “Hope he’s worth it,” Quinn murmured. Shaking her head in familiar disappointment, she headed to the bathroom, first door on the right.
Before entering, she caught a glimpse of her friends hanging with Dan’s friends in the crowded living room. Devon, Krista, and Monica sat on a couch, sipping on drinks while Martin told a story with big gestures and melodramatic facial expressions. Whatever story he told, the three girls were enthralled. Meanwhile, Katy was pressed up with Allan in a corner, kissing and giggling like grade-schoolers.
That made Quinn smile, reminding her of the hot boy waiting for her on that patio.
Inside the bathroom, Quinn appraised her reflection, fluffed her big kinky curls, and spritzed a little water on her face. Then she paused. Her eyes looked unnaturally sex-glazed. “Wow, wow, wow.” Whatever lust spell Dan had cast broke. Embers of her attraction remained, yet she could think straight again. Whatever felt off had started ever since meeting these boys…
Quinn, Annie, Devon, or any of their friends would never just go to a stranger’s house in rural Louisiana without questions. “What are you doing?” she asked her reflection, as if it had answers.
One thing was clear, Quinn would not take things further with Dan. Another half-hour, then she and her friends were leaving, even if they had to drag Annie out. Quinn glanced at her cellphone. Over ten minutes had passed. Time to face Dan.
“Use your head this time, girl,” Quinn told herself after straightening her frilly top and giving both cheeks a hard pat. “Don’t let your libido do the talking.”
When she stepped out of the bathroom, the merriment in the living room had quieted, except for Allan speaking what sounded like commands.
Weird, but Quinn kept walking.
When she entered the bedroom to head back to the patio, Vishal was straddling Annie. Except they were no longer kissing or even feeling each other up. He had Annie pinned down by the throat. Her mouth was open, a strange yellowish light stream spewing up into Vishal’s open mouth.
“What the—?” Quinn sputtered once her brain stumbled out of shock. The lust addling her brain evaporated as her chest tightened. “What are you doing to my friend, you freak?”
Vishal straightened up and turned, the light stream between him and Annie ceasing.
Annie wilted beneath him with a breathy sigh. Vishal’s eyes widened when he saw Quinn. “Ah shit.”
Quinn darted around the bed to shove this bastard off. Why hadn’t she done that earlier? “Get off her!”
Someone grabbed the back of Quinn’s collar before she could reach Vishal. Suddenly, she was flying over the bed and smacked against the wall. The world went fuzzy for a second as brief pain washed down her back. When Quinn shook off the daze, Vishal and Dan were towering over her. The sweet sexy face she’d been
kissing minutes before was replaced by an unwelcoming scowl.
“Or what?” Dan snarled.
Quinn recoiled, confused and very afraid.
Dan glanced over at his friend. “I told you to wait until she came back to the patio.”
Vishal, swarthy-skinned and sheepish, shrugged. “I was starving, man,” he explained.
Quinn watched Annie lying motionless on the bed. Her person’s breaths were way too slow and shallow. Getting past these two men to rescue Annie was a non-starter by herself.
Quinn despised leaving her alone for even a second, but she needed help. And Devon, pro-gun to the bone, always carried a firearm in her purse.
Quinn rose and ran out of the bedroom. “Girls!” she shouted loud enough for the whole house to hear. “I need your help!” The living room was just a few feet away, the air thick and heady just like around Dan on the patio. Quinn fought to keep her mind clear as she slid to a stop in front of the living room entrance. “Get over here…oh no…” Her mouth fell open.
Allan and Martin stood in front of Devon, Monica, Krista, and Katy.
All four girls were all slack-jawed and glassy-eyed, their feet ferrying them into the kitchen.
Quinn stumbled back, overwhelmed by horror. Either Martin or Allan had to be telepaths or something. Now they had turned Quinn’s friends into mind-controlled slaves.
She was alone.
Before Quinn could respond, Dan came boiling down the hallway.
“Why’d you have to make things difficult?” he fumed. “I really liked you.”
Quinn almost missed Dan’s cat-quick backhand until a rainbow of colors exploded across her vision.
Then she felt nothing.
Chapter 6
Quinn sprinted back into the cell, fear driving her forward.
Fear of what Dan would do to Annie.
Fear of the other three siphoners hearing the commotion.
As soon as she reentered, a horrific scene was playing out under the flickering lights. “Shiite!”
Dan, bleeding head and all, had crossed the distance between himself and Annie. He calmly strangled her with one hand while forcing the gun away from himself with the other. The blood dribbling down Dan's face deepened his demented expression.