Bad Connection (23 page)

He peers over at the ridge, which I must admit looks rather unremarkable. “I don't see any road or trail heading that way. And we already scoured the place for tire tracks or footprints leading from the site. All we came up with were ones that lead back to the way we just came.”

“So how do we get over there?” I persist.

He motions over to the other guys, who come to join us. “How would you get to that ridge over there?” he asks them.

Kevin shades his eyes as he peers at the ridge. “I'm not sure. I suppose you could get there on foot, but it'd take a while. We could try some of the other back roads, see if anything cuts back in there.”

“You lead the way,” says Tony, and we all head back to the SUVs. “Kevin grew up around here,” he tells us as we buckle up. “He knows this country better than any of us. But even he admits that it's easy to get lost out here.” Tony pats a device on his dashboard. “That's why we allrely on our trusty Global Positioning System.”

We drive and drive, following a cloud of dust from the SUV in front of us as they try different roads, then turn around and go back. Seriously, if Tony hadn't shown me that GPS, I'd be certain we were lost. And then finally we go down a dirt road that takes us right up to a ridge. I'm relieved to get out of the SUV since I was starting to feel carsick.

“Does this look like it?” asks Tony.

I frown as I look up at the scraggly ridge. “I'm not really sure.”

“Well, take your time,” he says, “Look around.”

We all start sort of nosing around, searching for…what? I'm not even sure. But as before, Ebony stays by my side as I walk and look and think. But I'm feeling confused and like I've led everyone on a wild-goose chase, like I'm just wasting their time.

“I just don't know…” I say to Ebony as I continue to walk aimlessly. “I'm not even sure why the ridge seemed important anymore.”

That's okay,” she assures me. “It doesn't hurt to look around. I was getting tired of riding in the car anyway.” She looks up at the sky. “Boy, it feels like it's about ninety degrees out here. I'm thirsty. You want a bottle of water too?”

“Yeah, thanks.” I sit on another rock and just look blankly around, wondering why I thought that ridge meant anything. Then I see something that stops me, although it's not even in the general direction where we've all been looking, close to the ridge. This is off to the other side. It's just another one of those twisted old desert trees, but this one is sheared off and split at the top. I'm guessing it was hit by lighting, probably a long, long time ago.

Now, I know that it's most likely nothing, but for some reason it interests me, so I go closer and take a better look. And when I'm almost to the tree, I'm surprised to see that it's on the edge of another ridge, and the land behind it dips straight down, about ten or twelve feet, I'd estimate. I walk over to the ledge and look over, but I don't really see anything unusual. Just lots of rocks and sagebrush and cacti and a few gnarly trees.

I'm about to turn back when I notice that some of the rocks on this ledge form what could almost be a natural stairway going down. And I decide to try a few careful steps, wondering if the stones will hold or crumble. But they seem to hold, and I'm thinking this is just the sort of place my dad would've loved to hike and explore around in.

I take a few more cautious steps down, then pause and look back
over
to where the cars are parked, waving to Ebony as she comes my way with our bottles of water.

Before I know it, I'm down on this lower level. While it's interesting in a geological way, I don't see anything of real interest. I'm about to go back up when I hear a sound.

I'll Suddenly I remember Tony's warning to watch out for snakes that might be sleeping in shady niches of rocks, and I jump away from the rock staircase, worried that I might've disturbed a rattler. But as I move I see something that's even more frightening than a rattlesnake—I see a short cement block building tucked into the back of this ridge, and it's painted in a peeling tan-colored paint. My heart is pounding as I look up to the top of the low ridge, expecting to see Ebony coming down the rocky trail, but she's not there.

My heart is pounding like a jackhammer now, and fully expecting to come face-to-face with the repulsive man from my dream last night, I am ready to run for my life. But I don't know which way to go—left or right or back up the rock stairs?

I feel certain that this monster must be directly behind me right now and that, if I turn around, I'll see his vile pig face smiling at me—maybe just a few feet away! And then to get away from him, I'll go backward. And I will back straight into the building, just like in my dream.

And I will be trapped!

I
nstead of making the same mistake that I made in my dream, allowing myself to become trapped against the building, I take in a deep breath, pray a quick prayer, and let out the biggest, loudest, wildest scream that I've ever made in my entire life.

I just keep screaming and screaming like that until first Ebony and then the others scramble down the rocky staircase toward me. As soon as Ebony is at the bottom, I run to her, and only then do I turn around to see if Colby is lurking behind me. But to my amazed relief he's not.

“What?”
says Ebony, breathlessly. Her gun is drawn and ready, as are the others', prepared for anything as the four of them huddle protectively around me.

I nod over to my left, to the building that's hidden beneath the ledge.
“It's right there!”
I whisper.
“The building in my dream!”

They look slightly unconvinced, and I can't blame them since nothing appears to be there but a pile of stones that have tumbled down the ledge over the centuries. But with guns still drawn and ready, Ebony and the FBI agents slowly move around to a perspective where they can see what I've just seen.

I wait, barely daring to breathe, trying to remember exactly what I saw that set me to screaming. And suddenly I start to wonder if perhaps I just imagined the whole thing. Perhaps I'm suffering heatstroke or having hallucinations or am in need of the counseling services of Dr. Paula Stone once again.

But I can tell by their expressions and quick move ments, as they get themselves into position, that all is not well. Then I hear Tony's hushed voice on his radio, calling for more backup.

I must've been right after all.

Ebony is back to my side in a flash, her left arm protectively wrapped around me as she looks in every direction. With handgun still firmly in hand, she slowly backs us up against a boulder, making a quiet shushing sound to me as she does so.

Every hair on my neck is standing on end now, and my knees are shaking so hard that I'm certain I'll collapse if Ebony should let go of me.

“Open up!”
yells a man's voice.
“Police!”
This is followed by a loud bang and a thud, which I suspect is someone kicking down a door.

Then I hear muffled voices and some yelling, and the sharp sound of several gunshots stings my ears.

I jump, clinging even more tightly to Ebony, terrified that Tony or the other agents may have been shot or injured. What will we do?

It's the longest five minutes of my life as I stand here with Ebony, waiting to see the outcome of this thing, but finally Tony is back with us.

“We got the creep,” he says, his dark eyes shining with excitement. “And the girl is in there. She's okay.”

“Can we go to her?” I ask.

He nods. “Yes, please do; she looks terrified.”

Ebony and I rush around the corner, where we see Kevin o and Willie standing over a man who's sitting on the ground, o” his hands cuffed behind his back. I quickly look away. I don't want to see that face—I just want to forget him.

Then we hurry toward the short block building that I can now see has been built right into the side of the ridge, and with the stones piled over the roof, it is very camouflaged, very easy to miss.

The door is wide open now, and there, on a decrepit mattress on the floor, sits Kayla with her knees pulled up to her chin. She has on a dirty T-shirt and a pair of boxer style shorts. She looks stunned and ghostly pale, perhaps even in a state of shock.

“Kayla!” I kneel beside her and wrap my arms around her. “You're alive! You're safe!”

She looks even more bewildered when she realizes it's me. “Samantha?” she says in a hoarse-sounding voice. “Samantha McGregor?”

I nod.

“What are
you
doing here?”

“It's a long story, but you're safe now, Kayla.”

Then she collapses onto my shoulder and just sobs and sobs like she may never stop crying again.

Soon Kayla and I are in the backseat of
an
air-conditioned SUV, where she is drinking a bottle of water and Tony is
retracing the maze of dirt roads to get us back to the highway. The sheriff and medical assistance are on their way, but Tony felt we'd make better time to meet them.

was so stupid, “
she tells me, her voice still hoarse, I'm guessing from dehydration. “So incredibly, freakingly stupid…” Then she goes on to tell me about how she'd been communicating with this guy she'd met online through one of those weird matchmaker websites.

“I only did it to make Emma believe I had a boyfriend, so she would think I didn't care about Parker anymore. It started out as kind of a joke, you know? But this guy sounded so totally amazing in his e-mail…he was so mature, and his life sounded so awesome, his car, his condo…he told me there was an Olympic-size swimming pool. And his photograph…he looked so hot, so handsome… I honestly thought I was in love, Samantha. Can you believe it?”

I sigh. “You were tricked.”

“Back then it seemed like Mom and me were fighting nonstop…and then I'd open up my e-mail, and there would be my dream guy saying all the right things. He told me that he loved me and that he wanted to take care of me. I thought he was my answer…my escape…
so stupidi”

“He lied and manipulated you.”

“But I came here of my own free will. Like a total idiot, I walked right into Colby's horrid little trap.” Then she makes this awful face, and I'm afraid she's going to throw up.

“You okay?”

She takes in a quick breath and another swig of water.”I just can't stand to say his name. It makes me want to hurl.
hate him so muchi”

“Don't think about him. Just be thankful that you're okay.”

“I can't believe you guys found me.” She peers at me o curiously now. “But I don't understand
why you're
here, Samantha.”

“Well, you remember that my dad used to be on the police force in Brighton?” I begin, all ready with the explanation I've prepared for her.

“Yeah?”

“I'm in a special program with Detective Hamilton,” I say, which isn't untrue. “I'm sort of interning with her, and I got involved in your case.” I shrug. “I guess they thought I'd be useful since we're the same age—and friends.”

“Friends?”

“Well, we used to be friends. And I still consider myself your friend.”

She actually smiles now, for the first time since we found her. “Thanks, I appreciate that. And that's cool, Samantha, about you being an intern with the police. I didn't know they had stuff like that in high school.”

“The thing is, you can't tell anyone, okay? I mean, my internship is kind of an undercover thing, and it will mess it up if anyone else knows about it.”

“Don't worry, I won't tell.” Then she begins to cry again. “There's so much I will never tell…”

“It's going to be okay. Really, Kayla, I have this strong sense that God is going to bring good out of this for you.”

She turns and looks at me with watery eyes. “I've been praying a lot, Samantha. I mean, really, really praying. About all I could do was pray.”

“Well, God was listening. He answered your prayers.”

“That's for sure,” Ebony says from the front seat. “You have no idea what a miracle it is that we found you today, Kayla.”

Tony nods. “Yep. It was a real honest-to-goodness' miracle. And you can be thanking God that you'll probably be home for Christmas too.”

“When
is
Christmas?” she asks.

“Tomorrow,” I say.

“Really?” She sighs. “Is it okay if I call my mom?”

“Of course,” Tony says as he pulls over to the side of the gravel road. “But that's the sheriff and emergency crew just up ahead. Let's put you into their hands first. They'll want to give you some medical treatment, and then you'll have to answer some questions and whatnot.”

“And someone from my department has already called your mom,” Ebony tells her. “She knows you're safe and that you'll be calling her soon.”

“Oh, good.”

“I asked them to call your mom too, Samantha.”

“Thanks!”

And suddenly we're swarmed by medical professionals and sheriff's officials, and Kayla is swept away with barely a chance to wave a quick good-bye. I feel stunned and slightly deflated as I watch her being ushered into the back of an ambulance by a uniformed woman. Meanwhile,

Tony seems to be giving some kind of directions to one of ft the officers.

“Will she be okay?” I ask Ebony.

“She'll be better than she's been in weeks,” Ebony says in a tired and slightly sad voice. “But it's probably going to take a fair ampunt of time and some good coun- 5” seling before she'll
really
be okay, Samantha. And her life will certainly never be the same again.”

I sigh, “Yeah, I know. But at least she's alive—and at least she's talking to God again. That's something.”

“She's going to need God now more than ever.”

As Tony drives us back to the hotel, I think of all that went into rescuing Kayla. All.because she made one incredibly stupid decision. It kind of blows my mind.

Oh, it's not that I regret my involvement in any of this. I don't at all! And I'm so totally thankful that we found Kayla before it was too late. But it's pretty overwhelming to think of all the effort and expense that went into this search—so many people who put their lives on hold or at risk or whatever, and on Christmas Eve too…just to rescue this one girl who made one very bad decision. It makes no sense.