Sister, Missing (17 page)

‘Get the gun off her,’ Duchovny ordered the guard again.

The guard hesitated, but I could tell he was going to obey the order. I only had a few seconds before he rushed over.

And I knew, in my heart, I would never be able to pull the trigger.

Duchovny swore. He started walking towards me.

‘Lauren!’
Cooper shouted.

I felt sick with fear. Somehow I had to take Cooper a ransom –
and
get out of here alive. I had no idea what to do.

And then I noticed the picture on the wall opposite. It was a Stutter, I was sure. Really similar to one I’d written about for my Art GCSE. About half a metre square: an abstract oil
painting consisting of three blue stripes.

It was bound to be worth millions.

There was no time to think. Duchovny had almost reached the guard. In a single movement I darted forward, yanked the painting off the wall and raced for the stairs. I climbed them two at a time,
then tore along the corridor to the door.

‘Stop!’ the guard yelled. He was right behind me.

I slid the key card over the lock. The reinforced glass door popped open. I ran through as the guard and Duchovny raced up. I slammed the door in their faces and slid the key card over the lock
again. A red light came on.

Duchovny rammed his shoulder against the door, but it held firm. He was yelling at the guard to open it. The guard was protesting that he couldn’t because I’d taken his key card.

I dropped the gun and the key card and tore down the drive, the oil painting under my arm.

I flew along the track, my legs barely touching the path.

‘What the hell are you doing?’
Cooper was shouting in my ear.

‘I’m coming!’ I panted. ‘Get the car ready!’

A second later I turned the corner on the drive. I could hear shouts now coming from outside the house. Duchovny was ordering his men to chase me.

I sped up, my breath rasping at my throat. I pushed my legs on. Further. Faster. The gate came into view. I reached it. Pressed the release button. The doors swung open. I raced through.

Cooper was standing outside his car. He saw me running and got inside. As I hurled myself into the passenger seat, he revved the engine. We sped off, the car screeching down the road.

‘What did you do?’ Cooper glanced at the painting. ‘What the hell is that?’

‘It’s your ransom,’ I gasped. ‘Duchovny wasn’t going to give you any money. So I took this instead. It’s an original Stutter. At least I think it
is.’

Cooper swung the car round a corner. Then another. He swerved off the road and skidded the car to a stop. I had no idea where we were.

Cooper reached over and took the painting off my lap.

‘If I’d wanted a piece of art I’d have gone to a freakin’ gallery.’ He swore. ‘This is probably a reproduction anyway. Now get under the blanket on the back
seat so I can drive home.’

I hesitated. I wanted to fight him. To get away. But Cooper was far more powerful than I was – and he still had his knife.

‘Are Madison and the others OK?’ I asked.

‘They’re where we left them,’ Cooper snapped. ‘Now get in the back.’

As I lay on the back seat, Cooper covered my mouth with a damp cloth. I smelled the same sickly scent as I had back on the cliff top.

‘No,’ I started to protest. But before I’d even finished speaking, I’d lost consciousness.

I came to back in the basement. I blinked open my eyes, looking round for the others as soon as I could move.

But I was alone.

Panic gripped me.

What had Cooper done with Jam and my sisters?

‘Hey!’ I struggled to my feet and hammered on the door. ‘Hey! Let me out!’

But no-one came.

I had no idea what time it was. Back at Duchovny’s house I’d had a strong sense that it was late evening. But I didn’t know how long I’d been unconscious, and I
couldn’t see outside – the only light in the basement came from the single bulb that hung from the middle of the ceiling.

Time crept by. I was getting more and more afraid. Suppose Cooper was just going to leave me here to die?

I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since . . . jeez, I couldn’t remember when. I felt light-headed and my head ached. I wanted to cry, but the terror inside me was like a fist
gripping me, holding on too tight for me to let go and give in to my misery.

And then, without warning, Cooper unlocked the door. He looked tired. There were shadows under his eyes and signs of fresh stubble on his chin.

‘Time to go,’ he said, shortly.

‘Where are the others?’ I said.

‘Already there.’

‘Where?’

Cooper shook his head impatiently. He tapped the knife attached to his belt. ‘Come on,’ he ordered. ‘They’re waiting.’

Heart thumping, I followed him out of the basement room. He gripped my arm and led me along the bare corridor and up a flight of stairs.

I looked round, bewildered. The house sounded empty . . . almost eerie. Was Cooper really taking me to the others?

‘Are you letting us go?’ I asked. ‘Is that Stutter worth a lot?’

‘We’re moving to Plan B,’ Cooper said, ignoring my question. ‘Through here.’

We’d reached the top of the stairs and were standing in some sort of utility room. There was a boiler and a washing machine and a sink in the far corner. Cooper indicated a door that led
outside to a dark garden. I could just make out the outline of a tree against the night sky.

I stared at him.

‘We’re going outside?’ I said.

‘You’re a genius,’ Cooper said sarcastically.

He pushed the door open and I stumbled out. The air was cold and damp, like it was about to rain. A strong, salt smell drifted on the wind across the garden. It took me a moment to realise that
the garden led down to a jetty and that the sea – pitch black – lay beyond.

Cooper prodded me towards the jetty. A boat was moored at one end.

I looked round. The garden was lined on both sides by trees. The house was completely isolated – no other buildings in the distance.

‘Where are we going?’ I said.

Cooper said nothing. We reached the jetty. Our steps sounded loud on the wooden slats.

‘Get in the boat,’ Cooper ordered.

‘No,’ I said, backing away. ‘Why?’

‘I told you already.’ Cooper grabbed my arm. Somehow his knife was already in the other hand. He held it to my throat. ‘The others are waiting for you. Get in the
boat.’

I had no choice. Trembling, I stepped into the wooden motor boat. It wasn’t large – just room for one person at the front and two at the back, by the engine. Cooper sat me down
beside him and started the engine.

We motored out to sea. The spray was fine and cold against my face. I shivered in my jumper. I thought about jumping overboard and trying to swim back to dry land, but I knew how powerful the
currents were here. Anyway, within seconds, the shore was just a distant bank of lights.

After a few more minutes, Cooper changed course. We motored along, parallel to the shore, for a while. Gradually the bank of lights dwindled to darkness. I could just make out waves breaking at
the base of a stretch of deserted cliff.

‘What are we doing here?’ I said. ‘Where are the others?’

Cooper didn’t reply. He turned off the engine. The boat rocked gently in the water. Waves slapped at the hull.

‘Get out,’ he ordered.

I stared at him, my pulse racing.

‘What?’

‘You heard.’ Cooper’s fingers curled round the knife at his side.

‘You want me to get into the sea?’ I said.

The water below me was dark as the night sky above.

‘If you don’t get in I’ll throw you in,’ Cooper said.

‘No.’ I scrabbled away from him, towards the front of the boat.

In a second he’d lunged after me, grabbing my arm and twisting it round my back.

I kicked out, my shoes thudding against the hull.

‘No!’ I screamed. ‘NO!’

‘Shut up.’ Cooper’s knife pricked at my throat.

‘Is this what you did to the others?’ I froze, the full horror of the situation dawning on me.

Cooper had dumped Jam and Madison and Shelby into the water too. They were already dead. Drowned.

Cooper said nothing. Still keeping the knife at my throat, he put his other arm round my waist and lifted me over the side of the boat. My legs dangled in the air for a second then, with a
grunt, Cooper hurled me into the water.

It was ice-cold. I sank, the water consuming me for a few seconds. I clawed my way back to the surface, gasping for air. Salt waves splashed over my face. My arms and legs were already sodden,
weighed down by my clothes and shoes. Automatically, instinctively, I began treading water.

The boat’s engine revved. Cooper motored away, the boat leaving a white trail in the water. In seconds it had disappeared into the darkness. Stunned, I watched the foam disperse.

Silence fell over the sea. Apart from the swish of the waves there was, literally, no sound. I looked around. From where I was, low down in the water, I could make out neither coast properly,
but the current seemed to be tugging me to the right. I moved my arms and legs, going with the water, letting it guide me.

Images flashed in front of my eyes. Mum calling from Disney World, not understanding why I didn’t answer . . . why I hadn’t called back . . . Jam and my sisters . . . all drowned . .
. their bodies sinking in this sea. Annie losing all of us . . . A sob rose up inside me.
No
. I couldn’t let myself think about it.

My eyes stung from the salt but I strained them, looking for some landmark to head for. The moon came out from behind a cloud and, for the first time, I saw the pale beach spread out in front of
me.

I started swimming towards it. I had no idea how far away it was. The current swirled around me, pulling me sideways as well as towards the shore. I struggled against the sideways motion. I had
to keep that beach in my sights. It was horseshoe-shaped – a bay set into high cliffs that rose out of the land and seemed to loom above me: dark and smooth and sinister.

The current tugged at my legs. It was strong and I felt weak. Weak from lack of food. Weak from fear. Would I make it to the shore? Could I possibly survive this long, cold, terrifying swim?

Freezing waves slapped against my face. As I pushed myself on, all my focus on the undulating coastline ahead, a human figure rose up from the sand.

My heart constricted in my chest.

There was someone on the beach.

Trapped

I stopped swimming for a second. Immediately I felt the current tug at me, threatening to sweep me sideways, out of the bay and into the dark sea beyond.

The deep chill was seeping through my bones.
If you stay in the water you will die
. The thought was as clear as the cold all around me. I kicked my legs against it, pushing on to the
shore.

Better to face whoever was on the beach than to die in the sea.

I pulled my arms through the waves. Another stroke. Another kick. Another. For a few terrifying seconds, it felt like I was only treading water – that the shore was as far away as when
Cooper had tipped me off the boat – and then I clawed at the water and kicked and my foot touched the bottom. Another few strokes and the seabed was properly under my feet. I stood up, water
rushing off me. The wind was fierce on my skin, but the sea only came up to my thighs. I pushed on, letting the waves break against the backs of my legs. I was still some distance from the shore.
The figure on the beach was standing directly in front of me – a dark smudge against the sand.

‘Lauren! Is that you?’ The voice was faint, battling against the crash of the waves and the rush of the wind, but it was as familiar to me as my own.

Relief surged through me.

‘Jam!’ I tried to call back, but my voice croaked with exhaustion.

I waded on. The going was easier now, despite the cold wind that whipped around me, plastering my clothes and hair to my body.

Jam stood at the edge of the sea, waiting for me. I forced my legs on, through the water. And at last I was there, stumbling through the last stretch of sea and onto the damp sand. I sank into
Jam’s arms and he hugged me fiercely back.

‘Thank goodness you’re all right,’ he said.

‘Where’s Madison?’ I gasped. ‘What about Shelby?’

‘Madison’s over there asleep.’ Jam pointed across the beach to where the cliff jutted out, offering a little shelter from the wind. ‘Shelby’s still back at
Cooper’s house. Didn’t you see her?’

‘No.’ Tears of relief rushed into my eyes. It was bad that Shelby wasn’t here too, but at least I had Jam and Madison back – and now we could get home . . . go to the
police . . . which meant Jam and I wouldn’t have to hold everything together for too much longer.

‘Oh, Jam. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t go.’ The words came from nowhere, sobbing out of me.

He pulled away from me so he could see my face.

‘Leave you?’ he frowned. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’

‘Nothing.’ I looked down, suddenly embarrassed that I’d sounded so desperate.

Everything’s going to be OK now
.

I fixed my gaze on the damp sand at my feet. Jam’s hand curled under my chin, lifting it up.

Jam’s hair was plastered against his forehead, his clothes wet, his body shivering. I looked at the strong lines of his face and his eyes, all warm with concern, and I felt a rush of love
for him, as strong as the love I felt for Madison.

‘What did you mean?’ Jam said. ‘Why did you think I might leave you?’

Oh, man
. ‘I wasn’t sure how you felt any more,’ I stuttered, through chattering teeth. ‘I’ve messed up so badly and got you into so much danger . .
.’

‘Well, that’s true . . .’ Jam raised his eyebrows.

I laughed and cried and shivered all at once. ‘And . . . and before that,’ I stammered, remembering how he’d pulled away from our kiss before. ‘Well, I wasn’t sure
if you really wanted to be with me.’

Jam’s eyes widened. ‘I wasn’t sure if
you
wanted to be with
me
,’ he said. ‘Sometimes you act like you don’t care, Lauren.’ He paused.
‘Not just with me. With everyone.’