Touch Page 16
I glanced behind us. Still no movement or sounds. I sat next to him. “I’ll wait with you. I need a rest too.”
“Talia…”
“After a little while, you’ll probably be alright to move again a bit farther. We can do this.”
“Talia.” He entwined our hands, but his wasn’t warm like before. It cooled my skin and trembled slightly. “Your family is waiting for you. Go to them. When you get to the main road—I’m feeling a pull toward the right, so go that way.”
“What? No, we’ll figure it out together when we get there, I’m—”
“We can’t waste any more time. Go!” The urgency in his voice sent a jolt through my heart.
I shook my head side to side repeatedly, desperately seeking another solution. I leaned into his side. “I can’t leave you.”
“I’m only going to get worse. This way I can rest so there’s not as much strain on my body. I won’t lose blood as quickly.”
How could he be so practical? This was life or death, and my sisters and I had always stood strong together. I wasn’t used to leaving someone to fend for themselves. We needed to keep fighting. But he was right. Damn it, he was right.
Tears ran down my cheeks as I nestled into his body.
“You have a chance to get away, to get the information to the cops and solve your father’s disappearance after all this time. Don’t let that go.”
The reality of our situation hit me like a slap to the face. We could die out here together, or he could die out here alone, or I could get out and get someone to rescue him, and we could both survive. Nothing was guaranteed.
But the best chance we had of surviving was if I left him here and tried to find my own way out.
“If you don’t go, I’m never driving you to art class ever again,” he said, a hint of a smile on his face.
Something that was both laughter and a sob burst from my mouth, and I pulled him close in an embrace. “Don’t you go anywhere,” I joked. “As soon as I find help I’ll get someone to come and find you. I promise.”
Reluctantly I unfolded myself from our embrace, stood, and withdrew both guns from where I had tucked them into my jeans.
He reached out his hand. “The one that’s out of bullets, just in case,” he said. “I’m pretty good at hitting people on the head, apparently.”
I placed it in his hand, tempted to give him the usable gun, but if I was on the move, I might need it.
“You can do this,” he said as I stepped away. “I believe in you.”
“I can. I will,” I replied. “They won’t win.” I stood tall and managed a smile, if only to give him reassurance that leaving him behind would not be for nothing. I would do all that I could.
“Bonita,” he said, blowing a kiss and sending me on my way.
I turned and walked through the forest with that image in my mind, not allowing myself to think of anything else. Not the bleeding wound on his leg, not the painful sounds he had made, not the memory of him falling when I thought he might have been killed by that gunshot. Just his smile, his air kiss, and his words of affection. Marco. My almost-boyfriend whose favorite color was an almost-color like mine.
I had to get help, and soon. I did not want to add “almost-survived” to that list of descriptions.
Chapter 21
I stroked the bracelet, summoning strength. I was glad for the bright moon, illuminating my way through the dense, dark forest. My mouth was dry. My muscles hot and tired. My skin cold. I tried not to think of all the things I needed—water, food, shelter, and my family. I tried not to think about the amazing human being I’d just left behind. I tried to focus only on taking one step at a time. Each one would bring me closer to safety, if all went well.
My panting breaths, the sticks crackling underfoot, the rustle of leaves, and the occasional bird or animal crying out in the distance were the soundtrack to this lonely, harrowing trek. I kept glancing behind me, around me, fearful of some sudden attack coming at me. But with each breath, each step, I reminded myself that this night would pass. Time was ticking away, and soon morning light would shine, and things would be different. I didn’t know how, but things—life—would be different after this if I made it out alive.
A different sound came to my awareness. A drawn out whoosh. I stopped for a moment. Was that a car? It could have just been the wind.
I continued on and hoped that Marco was doing okay. What were my sisters doing right now? Were they getting any sleep? No, I knew they wouldn’t be. And how were they coping with the urge to connect? God, I just wanted to be with them and for things to get back to normal, or our definition of normal, at least.
One step at a time, stay focused…
I had lost track of time. I had no idea how long I’d been walking. Or how long we’d been in the basement.
My grip on the gun became sweaty, and it suddenly felt strange to be carrying something so deadly. I slipped it into the back of my jeans.
My eyes stung. So tired, yet wired. Sleep wanted me. But so did danger. Sleep could wait. There would be none until this situation was resolved.
Did anyone else ever drive up this beaten track into this forest? How had Sean and his accomplices come across the cabin? If they’d taken my dad there they must have had access to it for a long time, maybe owned it or built it. I followed the track until I could see a clearing, and beyond the clearing, a bigger road? I squinted, raised my chin, peering into the distance.
My feet moved faster, but they couldn’t keep up with my mind or my motivation to get there. They moved jerkily, awkwardly, as I trod across bumpy ground and tried to stay upright, fighting my fatigue and thirst.
Road.
Roads mean cars.
Cars could mean help, safety, relief.
I focused on my destination, and trudged through the forest until I reached the clearing and, taking a deep breath, eyed the road up ahead.
Yes!
I ran to the edge of the road, looked up and down. Deserted. Dark.
I took off my watch and placed it on the ground, so I’d have a landmark if I needed to go back or remember where I’d come from, and to help someone retrace my steps and find Marco. And in case someone came along and stole the watch, I drew an arrow in the dirt, pointing in the direction I’d come, then placed sticks into an arrow shape as well, for backup.
I turned right as Marco had suggested, and walked along the road.
It seemed to go on forever.
I thought I heard a car’s engine in the distance, but maybe I was having an auditory hallucination. Or maybe it was the wind again. I couldn’t see any car headlights at either direction.
But then they came, not from either direction, but from another road or track that looked like it might end in a T-section up ahead.
Lights!
I ran toward them as they brightened, shining in two elongated streams cutting across the road. They were moving faster than I could run, and then the vehicle came into view.
“Help!” I yelled, still running.
The car slowed a little as it met the road, then turned left. Away from me. It sped up.
“No!” I ran as fast as I could.
But it became smaller and smaller, and the lights became duller and duller.
It was no use. I couldn’t catch it. I stopped, bent over, and panted, sucking in oxygen. My eyes clenched shut, squeezing out the tiredness and frustration. So close. Why had Marco said to go right if I couldn’t find someone to help me?
I stayed still for a while until I caught my breath, then continued walking. Fast. But my legs felt as though they didn’t belong to me. I was a puppet, and some unknown force was controlling and moving me along.
After I don’t know how long, I came across another T-section with another old dirt road or track, maybe leading to someone else’s cabin. Or maybe it was a shortcut to somewhere. I stopped and sat, looking into the distance as far as my eyes could see in the dim light. I needed to catch my breath again, so I reste
d for a few minutes, and was about to get back up and continue when my skin tingled. My hands warmed. My sense of touch came alive and processed the crisp air around me, the ground under my body, and the sense I was not alone.
I stood.
Spun around.
Eyes wide, ready to discover some unexpected surprise.
I felt a subtle vibration throughout my body, as though I was in a car. Then I heard it, the engine. Then the lights came, up ahead, from the crossroad. Coming straight toward me!
I stood where the main road met the other road, waving my hands around. There was no way they could miss me. I stepped to the side a little when the car neared, a white sedan covered with dusty, dirty marks. It paused next to me, and I quickly glanced into the driver’s seat. The driver turned on the light inside the car, and as his weathered skin and curious eyes were illuminated, I wondered if I could trust this stranger. Could I really get in the car of a man I didn’t know? What if he knew Sean, and this was a trap?
The window rolled down.
“You okay, miss?”
“Can I use your phone?” I decided to ask first.
“Um, sure. What’s going on?” His brow furrowed and he reached into his pocket.
Just how much should I say? I wanted to blurt everything out, but my nerves were on high alert; I needed to suss him out first.
“Um…” I glanced at the empty road around us, then back onto his car. The passenger seat had a hat on it, and the seats were covered in…
Lamb’s wool.
Soft, comforting lamb’s wool.
A sensory memory crept under my skin, gathering at the back of my body, against my back, my arms, the underside of my thighs. Like in one of the visions I’d shared with my sisters, the sensation felt safe and comfortable.
Somehow, I knew this was the help that was meant for me. I could trust him.
Tears rimmed my eyes. “I was kidnapped,” I blurted. “I escaped. My friend is still stuck back in the forest; he’s injured. My family doesn’t know where I am. I need to get to the police.” My body trembled.
The man reached out and unlocked the door. “I’ll take you there, love,” he said. “Get in.” The door opened.
I slid in, leaned back against the seat, then sat forward when the gun at the back of my jeans poked into my back. Without thinking, I pulled it out.
“Hey, hey!” the man said, his palms held up. “I don’t want none of that, out you get!” He gestured to the door.
“No, you don’t understand, it’s not—”
“Out!” He held up his phone. “I can call the cops with one press of a button.”
“Please! I’m in danger. I took this gun from the guy who kidnapped me. I left him unconscious in the forest when he fell from a ledge. If he wakes, he’ll go after my friend. Please believe me.” My eyes pleaded with him, and I placed the gun on the floor in front of me and held up my hands. I remembered what I’d heard on the television at the cabin. “Oh!” I said. “Do you have internet reception? Look up the news; they might have my photo! I think my family has reported me missing, so it should be online.” I gestured urgently to his phone.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Talia Delcarta.”
He typed it into a search engine and scrolled down the screen, looking up at me twice. “Oh hell,” he said. “You’re her?” He held up the phone to show me, then looked at it again and back at me. “You are her.”
“Yes, yes I am! Can I please call for help?”
He handed me the phone. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”
I shook my head. “But, do you have any water?”
He reached into the back of the car and handed me a bottle. I took off the lid and gulped down the water, some of it dribbling down my chin.
“My God, how long were you held captive?”
“Since late last night.” I opened the keypad on the phone. I went to call 911, but my fingers seemed to override my thoughts and pressed in Mom’s number, the only number I had, luckily, memorized. I just needed to hear her voice, to let her know I was okay.
“Hello?” she asked, her voice heavy and impatient.
“Mom! It’s me! Oh my God, Mom,” I sobbed.
“Talia! Oh, darling, oh my girl! Where are you? Are you okay?” She was sobbing too, and I could hear voices and sobs in the background.
“I’m on some guy’s phone, he’s helping me get away. They took me Mom, Dad’s killers, they took me and Marco. Sean Bolt, and some guys called Brent and Dale.”
“Oh sweetheart, oh my gosh. Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay, just worn out. But Marco, he got shot. He’s injured. I left him behind in the forest because he couldn’t walk. Please, someone needs to go get him!”
Mom gasped, then said, “Hang on.” Her voice trailed off, and I heard muffled sounds.
“Talia? This is detective Peter Larson. Can you tell me where you are?”
“Wait, where are we?” I asked the driver. I relayed the man’s information, and they told me to stay on the line and that they would trace my call and track me as we drove toward the city, and that they would meet us with the patrol car they would dispatch to meet us on our journey. They also asked to speak to the driver for a moment to get his name and license number. Then I got back on the phone. “And you’ll get someone to rescue Marco?” I asked. “Please don’t leave him there. He needs medical help. You need to catch Sean too; he won't be far from Marco. And he boasted to me that he killed my father, David, over nine years ago.” I didn’t know if that would be classed as evidence, but it would be enough to point the finger at him as a prime suspect. I also told them about Dale and the pet cemetery, so they could send someone there to arrest him if he was still there, and I also told them about my watch on the ground. Combined with the driver’s information and the eventual trace they got on my location, they assured me they would send a team to search for Marco and Sean.
I glanced at the driver as I waited for Mom to come back on the phone. His mouth gaped, and he was shaking his head. “Good God, girl. The truth sure is stranger than fiction.” He took the handbrake off and began driving, up the road that I’d worked so hard to get to, the road that would take me out of this nightmare and eventually into the safe haven of my family.
For the first time since Marco and I had left the art class, I relaxed. I exhaled in relief, closed my eyes, and let the lamb’s wool embrace me as my exhausted body lay back against the seat.
Chapter 22
After thanking the driver, the patrol officer took a statement from him and then sent him on his way. I was taken in a squad car to the police station. I met Detective Larson and handed him Sean’s weapon, which they bagged as evidence. He said I’d need to make a statement and be checked out at hospital, but I just nodded and peered around for my family.
“Come this way,” he said, leading me to a waiting room.
When he opened the door, I left one world and entered another. Stepped into a different realm, knowing things I couldn’t unknow, having seen things I couldn’t unsee.
My eyes scanned the concerned faces. Just about everyone I knew was here. But my eyes stopped on my mother’s. My heart softened; my legs weakened. She rushed toward me, tears glistening on her red cheeks. I fell into her embrace, my legs suddenly giving way and everything inside me turning to mush. She caught me, led me to the couch, and sat me down.
“Oh, my girl,” Mom cried. “My girl.” My sisters swarmed like bees to put their arms around me. “Give her some space, let her breathe,” Mom said, wiping her eyes.
“No,” I said, “come here, all of you.” I held out my arms and welcomed my family in, the sensation of their skin, their clothes, their warm breath overtaking me in a whirlpool of relief. “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again,” I sobbed, as some invisible dam inside me opened up and spilled over, releasing emotions I’d tried to hold back in order to survive.
My sisters cried, my mom cried, and we huddled together
in a clump of support.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mom asked, stroking my face, my hair, examining my body for any signs of injury.
I nodded. “They said I need to go to the hospital soon, just in case, but I’m okay.”
I glanced up at the others in the room: Mr. Jenkins had a relieved smile on his face, and gave a little wave. Riley and Leo stood close by, near Savvy and Tamara, and Damon was running his hand through his hair behind them. Jordan looked completely dumbfounded, like he too had experienced more in one night than anyone should have to. Sasha must have told him the truth about us.
There was only one person missing: Marco. I double-checked that the police would let me know as soon as they heard anything from their teams in the field, and the detective asked if I was up for giving a statement yet or if I wanted to go to the hospital first. I knew once I lay in a hospital bed, I would be a goner. Mental, emotional, and physical exhaustion would claim me, and then all I would want to know was how Marco was and if they had caught the guys responsible.
So I hadn’t learned the full truth about my dad, at least not yet, but I’d learned more than I'd known before. And despite the trauma, I was glad for that. I held up my wrist, the one with Dad’s friendship bracelet on it, and Mom gasped, touching it delicately with her fingers. I had to remind my sisters about it, though Sasha remembered because she had told me back then that I should have put an extra color in it.
An officer came in and handed me a drink and a sandwich. Then I showed the detective my wrist. “I found this bracelet at the cabin where they held us. It was my dad’s. They held him there too, all those years ago.”
He nodded. “Let’s go through the events of tonight first. We can look into your father’s case after you’ve been checked out and had some rest. There’ll be a counselor accompanying you to the hospital.”