Gone (Gone #1) (5 page)

The hay actually helped it to smell a little better. It was musty, but the almost-sweet scent of the hay made it bearable. She sat on a stack of two bales and looked up at the light, watching the dust dance around for a little while.

She had to think of a way out.

But even if she were to stack all of the bales on top of each other, she wouldn't be able to reach the boards by the ceiling.

At least she was away from that psycho. Being alone was much better than being around him.

Her stomach rumbled. It was finally steady enough to be hungry again, but she had no desire to eat. Whatever he would give her, if he was going to give her anything else at all, would probably only give her more problems. She kicked her feet against the hay several times and looked around the room.

The wood at the top, near the ceiling, was old and cracking. Maybe she could pull the boards off piece by piece, if only she could reach them.

The dirt walls were dry, but not crumbling. Maybe she could find a way to make a ladder or steps in them if she could find something to dig the holes. It wasn't likely, but at least it was an idea.

Something squeaked. A rodent. How did it stay alive? Was there something to eat? Not that she wanted to eat mouse food, but it might come to that. She shuddered at the thought.

How much worse was this going to get? Macy didn't want to know. She jumped off the hay and climbed up the ladder as fast as she could. It swung every time she moved.

Holding on as tight as she could, she managed to get to the top without losing her footing. She pushed her foot into a corner of the walls, steadying herself once the ladder held still. Letting go of one hand, she pushed on the trap door. It didn't budge, so she pushed a few more times. She may as well have tried to rip off the whole ceiling.

Macy wrapped her leg in the ladder and braced with her other foot. Letting go of the rope, she pushed with both hands and all of her might. She ignored the rope as it swung again, but on her third push she lost her balance. As she fell upside down, her foot caught in the rope and anchored her in place.

Macy breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have not broken her neck. She grabbed onto the rope, grateful no one could see her as she hung upside down, feeling ridiculous. She was probably stupid for thinking she could get the door open.

Holding on, still upside down, she tried to pull her foot loose. It was stuck. Making sure not to let go, she pulled herself up little by little until she could reach her foot. With one hand, she pulled her foot free. It slid loose, and she maneuvered herself back into an upright position before climbing down.

Once on the ground, she looked around the room again. The rodents stayed out of sight. All she had left were the boards near the ceiling. They were well out of reach, but she had to try. She had to do something.

She went to one of the bales of hay, bent down, and pushed. It moved, but not much. It was a lot heavier than it looked. But what else was she going to do? Watch TV?

Sweat beaded on her skin as she pushed the bale again and again. Finally, it reached the wall, and she sat down on the hay to rest. It felt good to get a little exercise. Her muscles burned a little.

She was thirsty. When was the last time she had anything to drink? Not wanting to stop for long, she picked another bale, and pushed it toward the first one.

By the time she had the two bales against each other, she was wiping sweat from her eyes. How was she going to lift the second one on top of the first? She would have to wait; she didn't have the energy to try yet. She lay down on top of the two bales, imagining she was on a bed.

Something poked into her back. Macy sat up and saw something shiny in the bale. She pulled out what appeared to be a tube of lipstick. She pulled the top off to find exactly that.

Why was there makeup in the hay? She tossed it on the floor and lay down again.

Macy shivered, starting to get cold. As she readjusted her position, she noticed that the hay below her had grown warm. Maybe she could use it to hold heat. She sat up and dug her fingers into the hay, pulling out as much as she could, earning several scratches. That didn't matter. When she had a nice pile, she lay back down, and pulled as much of it over herself as possible, using it like a blanket.

It didn't take long to warm up. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to rest. She could hear hooves moving around above her. She hoped the ceiling was strong. The last thing she wanted to deal with was a cow or horse falling on top of her.

Guilt

Zoey Carter closed her laptop in frustration. She had spent the last two hours searching for anything she could find on that Jared guy. It was as if he had ceased to exist. That wasn't possible—she had chatted with him. She could still remember his photo: an adorable selfie taken at one of his baseball games.

He was so sweet and had wanted to know what Macy liked. Jared had been so excited about their upcoming date, and had had a million questions. He didn't want to mess anything up, and Zoey had been more than happy to help him out. Macy had never had a boyfriend or gone on a date or anything. Her dad was so over-protective; he wouldn't let her do anything.

He wouldn't even let her watch PG-13 movies until she turned thirteen. Zoey always made sure they watched the good ones at her house so Macy could see what everyone else was seeing. Kids were always making fun of her, and Zoey didn't want to give them another reason.

The door opened, and her mom came in. "Has anyone heard from Macy yet?"

"No." Zoey frowned, fighting tears. "She's going to be okay, isn't she?"

Her mom walked over and wrapped her in a hug. "I sure hope so."

"But she would have called me. Why hasn't she texted or anything?"

"Well, her wall post sounds pretty upset. If she really wants to get to her parents, she would stay away from contacting you because she'd know they would call you first."

"Still, she should let me know if she's okay. She should know I can keep a secret."

"You know in a case like this, it's more important to break secrets, right?" Her mom raised an eyebrow.

Zoey rolled her eyes. "Of course. But she should tell me, you know?"

The landline rang.

Her mom gave her another hug. "I'd better get that. Maybe it's news about Macy."

Twirling a strand of jet-black hair, Zoey looked around her room. There had to be something she was forgetting. Something that would give an important clue. There was no way Macy had run away. If anyone would have seen it coming, it would have been Zoey. They told each other everything. Well, almost everything. There was that one thing she hadn't told Macy.

Macy had been looking forward to that date so bad. It was all she had talked about for the last week. She spent more time planning what to wear than she did on anything else. She was as excited about sneaking out as she was about going on a date with Jared. She had been tired of being a goody two-shoes, and couldn't wait to prove she wasn't anymore.

She spun around in her chair, looking at all the things that reminded her of Macy.
Would
Macy have run away with Jared? To spite her parents?

Had the thrill of sneaking out with Jared been enough to unlock her wild, crazy side? Was that why she took off with him? A smile tugged at Zoey's mouth. Maybe that was it. This could have been a loud, defining moment for Macy. Think of the fun times they could have when she came back, assuming her parents got the message and finally gave her some permission to have fun. They were probably going crazy right now not knowing where Macy was.

Zoey's mom came back into the room. "I'm sorry to do this to you, but we have to go down to the police station."

"What? Why?" Zoey felt like she had been punched in the gut.

"The police want to question anyone who could know anything about Macy's disappearance."

Zoey ran her hands through the length of her hair. "Isn't there a twenty-four hour wait or something? She ran away, didn't she?"

"The police aren't assuming anything. She met with someone online that nobody can even locate. They want to eliminate all possibilities."

"Wait. You mean they think she might have been kidnapped?"

"Nobody knows. There are a lot of child predators out there. That's why I'm always telling you not to give out any personal information."

Zoey took a deep breath. "But I talked with Jared. He was nice. I saw his picture."

"Did you ever meet him?"

She shook her head.

"If you want to help Macy, we need to go downtown."

"Can I have a few minutes to get ready?"

"Sure, sweetie." Her mom squeezed her shoulder and left the room.

Zoey closed her door, then put her ear to it to make sure her mom really had walked away. She grabbed her jacket and slipped it on, opened her window, and climbed out onto the ledge. She looked at the woods that faced her back yard. Could Macy actually have been taken by some pedophile?

Zoey stuck her hand into her pocket, grabbed a box and pulled out a cigarette. She lit it and took a puff, holding it in for a moment. Letting her breath out slowly, she tried to relax.

She'd started smoking to look cool around the new kids she'd been hanging out with, but now she actually felt like she needed one. If her mom knew she was smoking, she would have a fit.

The last thing Zoey wanted was go to the police station. What if she said something that could get Macy into trouble? What if she got herself into trouble? Could they charge her with something because she knew her friend was going to sneak out? By law, she was only a kid.

Her heart sped up as she thought about different kinds of worst-case scenarios. What if they sent her to juvie? What if everyone hated her for keeping Jared a secret? She didn't let her mind go to the absolute worst case—something actually happening to Macy.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, deep down she thought that might be the most realistic option. If Macy had planned to run away with Jared, she'd tell Zoey and not post it for everyone.

Zoey took another drag.

Guilt punched her in the gut again as she thought about the other secret she was keeping from Macy—the one far worse than smoking.

What if Macy had found out about that? Would that have been enough to send her over the edge to run away?

Zoey took one last drag, then smashed the cigarette into the roof tile next to her. She needed another one, maybe the whole pack, but there wasn't time for that. She climbed back into her room and sprayed some air freshener. Then she opened her door and listened for her mom. She could hear her downstairs, talking on the phone.

Zoey grabbed some clothes and ran to the bathroom for a quick shower. What should she tell the cops? She should probably stick to Jared and what little she knew about him. She kicked herself for not downloading his picture.

Maybe one of Macy's other friends had talked with Jared and had been smart enough to save the picture.

Zoey got out of the shower and brushed her teeth to get rid of the last evidence of her new habit. She looked in the mirror, examining her teeth, and then she brushed her long, black hair. She promised herself that the next time she saw Macy, she would come clean. She would tell her everything. The thought that she'd caused Macy to run away ate at her.

There was a knock on the door. "Are you ready yet, Zoey? They're expecting us at the station."

"Hold on!" Zoey grabbed her black eyeliner. She gave her eyes a smoky look before putting on some mascara. She loved her exotic eyes. They were so dark and mysterious, thanks to her dad's Japanese roots.

Her mom drove her to the station in near-silence. Zoey really didn't want to talk about anything, and her mom usually respected that.

When they pulled into a parking spot, her mom turned to her. "Just tell them everything you know. Don't be nervous, okay? You're not in trouble. Everyone just wants to find Macy. You're her best friend, and you might know something that no one else does."

Zoey nodded. "Sure, Mom." She got out of the car, not wanting to talk about it any more.

They walked into the station together. Her mom told the officer at the front desk why they were there, and he filled out some paperwork. Then he looked up at Zoey's mom and then back to Zoey.

"Are you adopted?"

Zoey rolled her eyes. If she had a dollar for every time some ignorant bonehead asked that, she would be rich. Because she looked so much like her dad, everyone assumed she couldn't be related to her fair-skinned, auburn-haired mom. "My dad is Japanese."

The buffoon looked around. "Where is he?"

Zoey narrowed her eyes. "Isn't that the million-dollar question? Probably Japan, but who knows? If you figure it out, let me know."

He raised his eyebrows. "Okay. Unknown." He scribbled more on his paper. "You two can have a seat over there." He indicated toward the waiting area.

Zoey followed her mom to the chairs. Her heart raced as she looked around at the plain, white walls and numerous windows. Yelling came from somewhere down a hall.

Just as she was getting ready to jump from her seat and run back to the car, she heard familiar voices. She looked up to see Macy's parents and brother walking out from behind the main desk. They must have been questioned. Her mom and dad stopped at the desk and talked with the loser filling out paperwork.