Authors: Becky Johnson
Barely any noise left our lips as we whispered back and forth to each other. I told Jack what I had figured out so far. He added in the information he had been able to figure out on his own. Our assailant had military training, but chose to attack us from behind.
Criminal Minds
would speculate about his method of attack, but that was somewhat beyond me. Now looking back at that conversation, I realize that the information we shared with each other meant nothing. We weren’t planning. We didn’t have an escape. It was pure luck that I survived, that conversation between the two of us in the back of that van had nothing to do with it. At the time however, it felt good. It made me feel like we had some small measure of control. Bound and thrown in the back of a van may have been our situation but we could still think, still figure. Lying there face to face with Jack, our faces mere inches apart, I felt safe and connected.
It took a minute to register, but when it did
, the feeling of safety fled. The van had stopped moving.
Chapter 19
: April 8, 10:35am - 3:28pm
The
driver’s door slammed shut. Steps clomped away from the van. Jack and I were frozen. We lay unmoving and barely breathing. No footsteps rounded the van; we couldn’t hear anything.
Jack moved like he was trying to sit up and then slumped back with a groan. I could only imagine what pain he was in. He lay there for a second
, breathing deeply. When he regained his composure, he asked me if I could see anything.
Sitting up wasn’t easy
, like rolling over earlier, my abs were required to work overtime. By the time I managed to get myself sitting up, my abs were burning, I was covered in a thin cold film of sweat, and my old friend nausea was making an appearance. But I could see a little more out the windows.
“Looks like a warehouse. I can see an old building
… grass; I don’t see anyone else around.”
“Do you see anything that would let us know where we
are … like any other buildings?”
I craned my neck and squirmed around as much as possible.
“All I can see is the corner of a building, some trees, and an old parking lot. It doesn’t look like anyone has been here in a while.”
“What can you tell about the building?
How many stories? Brick or stone?”
“Um
,” I focused in on the building. “At least two stories … brown brick.”
“Ok
ay … alright, let’s think … Okay, he is going to come back and get us. He will likely separate us at least for a little while. Our best bet is to be together. He may not separate us if he doesn’t think I’m a threat. I’ll keep quiet, like I’m still out.”
Jack paused and seemed to be thinking.
“Keep quiet. Look scared.” Like that would be a problem. “Let him think trauma has made it hard for you to think.”
I kept nodding dumbly
, agreeing to everything he said. The truth was, I was numb and I was scared, and in that moment waiting for him to come back, the reality that I was going to die was hitting me and hitting hard. It was over. He had won.
“Char
… Char.”
I looked at J
ack.
“We are going to get out of here
. I swear it. We will make it, trust me.”
I nodded jerkily. More to placate Jack than because I really believed what he was telling me.
Jack and I both fell silent as the sound of a door and footsteps came to our ears. As the footsteps grew louder, Jack looked at me. “Remember, Char, we will get out of this. Stay strong.”
Stay strong
, right. Of course. I can do that.
The van door opened. I barely had time to register anything when I was grabbed and pulled out of the van.
I struggled, kicking and yelling. I have no idea what I yelled, but I do know that it had no effect. I was carried over his shoulder through a doorway and dumped onto a cold hard floor. By the time I wiggled around he was gone. A few minutes later, he dragged Jack through the door. This was the first time I had a chance to see him; the first time I could identify him. I had looked at his face so many times in the last few days. Early fifties, 5’ 11” and fit, distinguished and good looking. His face was one you would trust. He looked safe. The mind of a monster with the face of a hero. Lawrence Pheares.
______
I don’t think I made any noise, but something attracted his attention. He looked up at me from where he was tying Jack to a post in the middle of the room and he smiled.
With that smile I forgot all of the instruction Jack had given me
. Instead, I was filled with rage, blinding, all-consuming rage. This monster had killed my girls.
“I should have
known it was you all along. Only a coward would kill and only a coward would stay hidden behind his company.”
He laughed
. “You had no idea it was me. Smart girl,” (he said that like an adult who is speaking to an unruly child … I really hate being condescended to) “thinking you know what has happened here. Thinking you know what is going on.” He laughed again. Done tying Jack, he kicked him. Jack’s head was down and he didn’t appear to be responding. I worried he was really out again.
He came over to me grabbed my chin
, and shook my face. “Don’t worry, smart girl I’ll show you what happened.”
I pulled my chin out of his grasp and tried to kick him with my tied feet, but he jumped out of the way
, laughing.
“I have a few things I need to get
. That was not considerate of you making me chase you all that way. I had to grab you when I had the chance.” He paused to smile at me. “Oh, don’t worry my smart girl. I will be back soon and we will spend some real quality time together.”
“Where’s Georgia?”
He froze in place just like a child playing freeze tag.
“Where
is she? I know she is with you!”
When he turned
, he was smiling and acting like he didn’t care. I could tell he was acting.
“Georgia, is that one of my girls? You will have to refresh my memory. There have been so many.”
Bastard. They weren’t his girls. They had never been his girls, except maybe Georgia.
“Did you plan it together? Did you plan to kill all those
girls? Was it something about Leslie?”
“Smart girl, maybe not so smart. You have no idea what you are talking about.”
“I think I do.” This time I smiled at him. “I think it was all about Georgia. Was it her idea? Did she want something? I got it; she is the one in charge, right?”
I laughed again and leaned forward for just a little more emphasis.
“You are just her stooge. So tell me Pheares – where is she?”
For a moment he looked at me with hatred. Pure hatred. Then a fake and
, frankly, terrifying smile covered his face.
“Smart girl – think you are so clever. No fair distracting me. Don’t worry
, I will be back soon and we can talk about absolutely everything.” As he spoke, his hand lightly tapped against my cheek. It was a move that would have been affectionate coming from anyone else and under any other circumstances. At that moment it was enough to make my blood turn to ice.
He laughed as he walked out the door and I listened to a lock click the door shut behind him. It sounded as if he had padlocked us in.
I slumped back and took stock of the situation. I was still bound and I had been dumped on the floor. A few feet away, Jack was bound and tied to one of the many support columns throughout the room we were tied up in. The room we were in was huge. I could not see all of the corners. It was dark. Light filtered in through the few windows that were not boarded up. Most of them were high up and offered no view. The few windows that were low had been painted over or boarded up. There were various tools and refuse from whatever business had once been held here. Looking around I could see some boards, trash, and rope. I don’t know what I could use any of it for, but I cataloged it anyway. My brief perusal of the setting took only a few seconds. Half an hour ago when I first woke up, my mind was sluggish. Shock kept me immobile, kept my mind circling the same few details again and again. Now my mind was sharp, almost feverish. My mind was racing ahead with scenarios and possibilities. Now I just needed to make sure Jack was okay. I was suddenly convinced that we would be fine, that everything would work out, I just needed to move.
Jack was
lying about 5 feet away from me. My body was sore, bruised, and bloody, but my mind was on fire. Right now I could do anything. I rolled myself onto my side. I moved like an inchworm. I brought my legs up and used them to push my body across the floor. Then I pulled my legs up again. The process was painstaking and the rough floor scraped my side. However, I accomplished my goal and in a few minutes I found myself at Jack’s side. Working myself into a sitting position again, I pulled myself up so I could see Jack’s face. He was out of it. Likely Pheares had hit him again before bringing him in here. I worried about a concussion. I didn’t know what to do for him other than get us out of here. With that in mind, I leaned against the column next to Jack and took stock of our situation and supplies.
We were both bound. First thing was to find a way to get us loose. I turned myself until I could reach the knots in Jack
’s rope with my hands. With the way my hands were tied, I could only use one hand to try and free Jack.
The ropes cut into my wrist
s. I could smell my own blood and feel it wet on my wrists. My fingernails were breaking and the rope was rubbing my fingertips raw. I was just about to give up when I felt the rope start to give. I tried harder than ever to free Jack. With the rope loosened, freeing Jack from that point was relatively easy. Relatively. I finally freed Jack’s hand. I felt his arm loosen and fall.
With success
I relaxed. The tension and frantic push for freedom relaxed for a second. While I relaxed back against the column my mind calmed. The frantic push to free Jack had taken all of my attention. Now that my mind was calm again, I was able to re-evaluate my next steps. I had planned to free Jack’s other hand; however, Jack was still unconscious. Even if I managed to free his other hand I would still be tied up. Right now, with Jack unconscious, I needed to put the majority of my focus on freeing myself. Until I was free, I wouldn’t be able to help Jack.
Ok
ay, Char, focus
. The first look around showed nothing. A second look around and my gaze caught on a pile of debris 25 or 30 feet away. From this distance I couldn’t see everything in the pile, but it seemed a likely place (perhaps the most likely place) to look for a nail or a piece of glass or something that I could use to free myself.
I remembered how hard it was to move the five feet or so to Jack’s side. This was going to be much
farther. I was filled with purpose though, filled with assurance that I could do this. With that in mind there was no reason to delay. I started across the floor. Each inch I moved scraped and hurt. Each inch I moved tugged on my sore wrists and strained muscles already taxed to their limit. Every pain I gave a name. Emily, Lindsey, Laura. My girls, each one special, each one suffered at the hands of this monster, a monster I would beat for me, for Jack, and for my girls. As that 25 feet stretched into what felt like miles, I drove myself on saying the names of the girls as I went.
Pull my legs up
… push … Emily … pull my legs up … push … Laura … pull my legs up … push … again and again.
Whether it was five minutes or an hour
, I made it to the pile. Now came the really hard part. I needed to look at the pile to sort through it. With my hands tied behind my back that translated to constantly rolling back and forth, and the way my hands were tied, I didn’t have a lot of leverage.
I started out facing the pile. I started on the right and began working my way to the left. I would spend some time looking over each section and then scooted a little further around the pile. I hit gold in the third section
-- a nail, a large, rusty, pointy nail. All I needed to do now was get a hold of it. I rolled over, took a small break to catch my breath, and started feeling behind me for the nail. I had to roll back and forth five times before I got my hand on the nail. Once I felt the exact location of the nail, it took some scrambling and pulling to get it fully in my grasp.
Now I had a decision to make. Pheares
had been gone for a while. I had no idea how long he would be gone. If he came in and found me lying by the pile, he would surely search me and find the nail. I would lose the chance to free myself. On the other hand, if I moved across the floor to where I started I might miss the opportunity to free myself. UGH, I was wasting time. I needed to move. Choose one and go with it. I decided to move back across the floor. If he should come back I might still have a chance to free myself if he didn’t suspect anything.
Inch-by-inch
I moved back across the floor toward Jack. I repeated my mantra from before. The memory and connection to the girls pushing me on when my body wanted to give out, when the scared child inside my mind wanted to curl up and hide. Emily and the girls pushed me on. I wasn’t just doing this for myself or even for Jack, I was going to beat this bastard for the 23 girls he had murdered.