Authors: Julie Anne Lindsey
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Family, #Parents, #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General
I grabbed my bag and a few other things on my way to the door.
“Ready?” Nicholas called from the kitchen.
“Not even remotely.” I swung myself out the door right behind him.
Since surveillance was his job, I had to stay under his thumb. He assigned me to a job that would keep me in one place and easily trackable for him. I would serve punch.
Nicholas pulled onto the grass and parked near a large stack of hay bales. I slid out and moved across the lawn with him. We walked silently, together but not, to the refreshment stand. I stopped there for instructions from an elderly lady in a “Francine Frances Academy 1951-1954” sweatshirt. Nicholas stopped several feet away and folded his hands in front of him. He looked like Secret Service.
The festival was elegant. The speakers were good, too. It came as no surprise when we ran out of cups. I’d handed out at least two hundred personally. The old lady who trained me told me where to find supplies in the cafeteria in case this happened. She’d also assured me that she’d be with me all night. She said I wouldn’t have to leave my post. I hadn’t seen her in an hour.
I turned away several people while I waited for a chance to tell Nicholas I was in need of supplies. Though he kept a close eye on me, we hadn’t been able to talk. The girls at my school, and their mothers, had held him captive, incessantly so, since we arrived.
I admitted defeat around nine and left my station. Twinkle lights wrapped trees in a magical look no one could deny. I told the nearest person I could that I was going in for cups if anyone asked. I moved quickly into the building and down the hall to the kitchen. It wasn’t a far walk from the front door, where I’d been stationed.
Inside the room, emergency lighting illuminated the space. No need to look for the switches. I doubted I’d find the right one, and I was in a hurry. The lighting made it possible to see clearly through the center of the room. It was actually lighter there than outside. I moved along the countertop looking for a box of cups. The huge, unmarked boxes gave no indication, so I began opening them. One at a time, I pulled the tops up and shoved them aside. I found plates, napkins, everything but the cups.
I tossed the last box onto the counter and prepared to rip into it when my hands froze. My heart spluttered erratically. A picture of me hung on the outside of the box. The same picture I’d had taped to my mirror inside my apartment. I hadn’t seen it in over a week. Now it was stuck to the box with a large serving fork stabbed through my chest. My father’s face was rubbed out, probably with the fork that impaled me. The rough outline of a heart shape snaked around my head.
My breathing was loud against the silence. The room suddenly seemed darker. Fear gripped my feet, rooting them in place. Time slowed. An ache in my chest spread out over my skin. Pricked my eyes. Stung my nose. I visualized the hallway separating me from the outside. It looked longer in my mind than it had on the way in. I’d never make it. With my head tilted toward the box, I scanned the room. Blood rushed and pounded between my ears. Breath whooshed in and out of my lungs. Then, it appeared. In the corner of the room where I stood, in a darkened slip of space between a wall and a commercial-sized refrigerator, a tiny orange glow began to shine.
Chapter Twenty
I couldn’t swallow. My throat was thick with fear. I choked out a soft sound as my eyes tried in desperation to see the glow. To identify it as anything other than what it surely was. I thought of my dad losing me this way after he’d already lost Mom.
Only a thin metal island stood between us. The week’s training played on my mind’s recorder. Nicholas’s voice demanded, “Run.” I spun and threw myself into the doorjamb. I hit it with force. Pushing off with both hands, I propelled myself around the edge and into the hallway. The corridor stretched out for miles before me, yet I heard voices beyond the outside door. My strides came quicker. I knew Nicholas waited on the other side of the door to save me. If I could only reach the door. My feet slid on freshly waxed marble. My arms swung and my knees pumped, forcing space between the glow and me. I visualized slamming my palms against the cool metal door frame. Only twenty-five more feet to Nicholas. Blood surged through my veins.
A heavy arm crashed down over my shoulder stopping my escape. Another grabbed me from behind. Forcing me to a stop. Pulling me backward. Momentum urged me on. My body jerked and fell into the unreasonable grip of the monster. I screamed in torment over what would happen next. I knew too much. I’d read all about this thing that hunted at my school. It was worse for me than the others. I knew what would happen to me in ten short days.
His hot hand clamped over my mouth, stopping the screams. I tried to bite him. My teeth were muzzled securely behind my lips. The monster dragged me back toward the kitchen. The grip of rubber soles on marble proved worthless. My ankles turned and slid helplessly against the smooth floor. Pain shot up from my neck into my head from his grip. My chest burned and ached, as I struggled to pull in enough air. A wheeze fought its way through my windpipe. I knew exactly why he wanted me in the kitchen. So he could plunge an enormous fork into my chest. He planned to bring his fantasy home.
Please, no.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins, tightening my muscles, fueling my weakened body into action. This time flight was out of the question. I prepared to fight. Willed myself to be brave the way I’d planned. The time had come to face my fear. It was my moment. I would not die. I would not be held prisoner by yet another terror. My resolution firmed and hardened into stone. As thoughts moved through my mind, my shoulders squared from their slump. My struggling body became rigid against his grip.
I slammed my previously floundering heel into his foot. He stopped moving for a fraction of a second. The large hand over my mouth loosened infinitesimally. Our backwards propulsion hesitated. Not for long, but enough for me to connect my elbow with his gut and my fist with his forehead. I kicked back one last time with gusto, raising a growl from his chest. I smashed his shin with precision and ran. My shoes slid with every step, but I kept going. The sounds that began to erupt from my throat were unlike anything I’d ever heard. I would not be his victim.
The great metal door before me swung wide. Nicholas flew to my side, gun in hand, protective stance in place. He looked me over in the blink of an eye, embraced me for less than a heartbeat, and then shoved me outside. Through the door. Onto the great stairs. Behind me, a thousand voices mixed with music and laughter. Before me, darkness and danger. I stood frozen outside the enormous door. Through the window in the door, I stared as Nicholas approached every interior threshold with his back to the wall. He spun, kicked, and turned in two directions before moving on. It was methodical, calculated, and precise.
He would end him.
I stumbled back to my concessions assignment, rubbing my shoulder and ribs. My skin was ice over stone. His hands had burned impressions on me that would never wash away. A heartbeat before my legs gave way, the folding chair at the refreshment table hit the backs of my legs and I sat. My muscles turned to stew and oozed over the seat. Scents of candied apples and popcorn wafted overhead. People spoke to me, but their words were muted, blurred, and distant. My photograph was stabbed into the box. This man hadn’t simply waited for a girl to wander off tonight. It was not a photograph of any girl.
My
father’s face was erased.
My
chest had been skewered. He had waited for
me
.
I had no idea how much time had passed when the woman who was supposed to help me finally returned. She scolded me for sitting and not getting more cups then turned to enter the building.
“No!” my rough voice choked out. I sounded awful.
She examined me. “Are you ill, dear? You look pale.” Her keen grandmotherly eyes searched my face. Her cold hand brushed my cheek. My skin burned from fear, and her cool touch stung.
I jumped. “No.” On my feet and prepared to take the lady down if she insisted on entering the building, I leered. “Someone went in for me so I wouldn’t have to leave.”
“Oh, well did you explain it as I did? There are so many boxes in there.” She looked at the doors again as if she thought she could help him somehow. No one could help him.
I took a sidestep, placing my body between her and the building. The tears began to fall. I allowed the panic to sway and the fear to swell.
She immediately forgot the cups. “Sit down, dear. Are you sure you’re well? You might need to go home and rest. Let me see.” She picked up my wrist and looked at her watch.
“I was a nurse for thirty-five years. Did you know? I often fill in here when the school nurse is away.” Her thin lips and small blue eyes comforted me. I’d never had a grandmother.
“Oh dear,” she said softly, as if she hadn’t meant me to hear. “Your heart is racing. Are you fevered?” She pressed her hand against my forehead, and her brows pulled together. An enormity of wrinkles gathered across her face.
“Let’s get you into the office so I can take a better look.” She glanced up at the moon as if to point out the obvious. It was dark. She was old.
Again with the building
. Did she have a death wish?
“Is everything okay here?” Nicholas’s voice startled me. I turned to wrap my arms around him. He caught them mid-flight before pulling me awkwardly against him.
“What’s this about?” His voice was strange, distant and cold.
The woman appraised us. “She’s not feeling well.”
“I’ll get her home.”
“Mmm.” She considered him again. He was hard to resist even at her age, I suppose. “She’s not well. She’s flushed. Her heart is racing and she might have a fever. I’d prefer to get her inside to the nurse’s station before sending her home.”
“I ran into the dean inside. He sent me out. The building is to remain vacant tonight. No one’s allowed access.”
“But,” she tried to argue, “we’re out of cups. How can I serve punch with no cups?”
His face remained blank and stern. He bent over and lifted a box onto the table beside her. “I was coming from the kitchen when I ran into him.” A painful smile changed his lips but not his eyes. Those were clearly troubled. I followed the gaze to two large holes in the side of the box, where the fork had been.
The woman was stunned and apparently confused.
He took advantage. “Ma’am, if you can handle the refreshments on your own, I’ll take Elle to her parents.” He nodded into the crowd as if my parents roamed together among the guests.
I tried to stay on top of their exchange, but my eyes adhered to the holes.
“Yes, well, that’s fine … ” she stammered. “I do think she needs to be looked at properly.”
We were already walking away into the night before she finished her weak protest.
Inside the SUV, Nicholas apologized. “Elle …” There was fierce emotion behind the words. “I’m so sorry. We shouldn’t have been here. I should never have allowed myself to become distracted. I wanted to make your life more normal, with one less sacrifice.”
Did he think I’d feel deprived in some way if I missed the festival?
I looked at him but saw only darkness, the little orange glow, and my father’s face scratched from the photograph. My mind couldn’t formulate anything worth saying, nothing coherent, for that matter.
“You know this, but I need to say it any way. I didn’t find him. He’s either still hiding in there, or he’s gone. I’ve called my team and they’ll search the entire area for anything that might lead us to him.” His voice deepened. “We had to wait, to know for sure … ”
“Wait for him to kill me?” The words flew from my mouth. I’d been used like bait for a predator. I didn’t appreciate it.
“Of course not!”
Oh sure. I offended him. He had things backwards. I contemplated getting out of the SUV, but my chances were better with Nicholas. So, I fumed and pouted as long as I could manage.
“We had to maintain surveillance, nothing else. We had nothing solid. Even the times you believed you were followed … nothing concrete arose. Now we can be more proactive. We can assign more resources. We can act now, stop waiting.” He looked at me for something, but I kept my eyes on the road. “Elle, we don’t even know who he is …
“I need to take you in. We can’t go back to the house because he might’ve seen me while I looked for him inside the school. If he did, then he’s surely put two and two together. He’s been watching here. He likely knows we’re together, and if he saw my response protocol, he knows I’m not a student.”
“Take me in where?” Steam must’ve coiled from my ears. I’d never been so angry. “Where are we going?”
“To my local rendezvous. You’ll be questioned. We’ll call in a sketch artist. No one has any idea what the Reaper looks like. You’re the first to see him … ”
“And live.” I was completely disturbed.
“I’m so sorry, Elle. I should’ve been there.” His voice broke. “You did real good, okay? You did great.”
I zoned out for the rest of the trip. I couldn’t deal with any of it. I let myself shut down.
Nicholas let me, too. He glanced my way every few minutes, but he never spoke.
I concentrated on the scenery, the road signs. To busy my mind, I tried to decipher where we were headed. Where was his “local rendezvous”?
Chapter Twenty-One
Two hours later we arrived at a small office complex in suburbia. I had no idea if we’d left Ohio. Every window on the first floor of one building shined in the night. Nicholas swung the SUV onto the walk out front and led me inside. Several people stopped to watch our entrance. Steaming mugs paused at lips. Phone calls disconnected. Talking ceased. Keyboards stilled.
All eyes fixed on me. Nicholas directed me to a conference room where the group of strangers followed and began to question me. They sought every detail of the events leading up to, during, and after the attack. One person took notes. Others asked questions. Someone cleaned under my fingernails and took my vitals as I spoke. Nicholas brought me coffee, but he wasn’t permitted to stay. A tall man in dress pants and Reeboks took him into another room. I assumed he had his own questions to answer.