Wanted (28 page)

My mind raced while I remembered what Charlie had said about tumbler locks being the most common kind of locks. Though the odds were unlikely, I thought maybe I could pick it without a wrench, or without seeing the keyhole properly. I was half-tempted to start crying again, knowing how unlikely I was of success. Still, in spite of the hopelessness, my inner overachiever wouldn’t be satisfied until I gave the task everything.

I took the bobby pin from my hair and held it between my thumb and forefinger. If there ever was a time to concentrate, now was the time. Although the worst of the storm was over, the rain continued on through the slants of sunlight. I silently cursed the rain for blocking the warmth, for making my teeth chatter. But at the same time, I counted the hollow sound of the pitter-patter as it echoed through the hold. I counted backward from one hundred and began again.

As my thumb and ring finger escaped from the confessional, I continued to count, but I also tried to channel Charlie. Although his large hands would never be able to conquer this, I could imagine him thinking up something clever. A very small piece of me hoped he would be proud of me when I escaped.

If I ever did.

I found the bottom of the lock where the keyhole was. This was the easy part. My hand wouldn’t stretch any farther. A sob escaped me with the frustration, but I pushed my hand forward, watching my knuckle claw its way to the outside, leaving fragments of flesh as a sacrifice to the ancient wood.

I bit down on my tongue to keep from crying out. I didn’t know why Wallace hadn’t come for me yet, but for all I knew he was right around the corner and all he needed was a reminder that I was in here.

So I kept my mouth shut and ignored the pain, clenching my fist to try and shake the pain loose once my hand was safety free. I sighed. Now if I could only get the rest of my body out of there.

I held the bobby pin in my free hand and arched my back once again to help get a better look at what I was doing. Within moments, however, my torso and back hurt considerably and the pain caused my free hand to shake. I swore at my lack of sit-ups and lay back down. I counted back down from one hundred.

What if Charlie was dead? What if the others had decided it would be funny to let me rot in here? How long would it take me to starve to death?

What if? What if? What if?

I tried again, this time propping myself up on my elbows and trying to rest some of my weight on my good ankle. As the bobby pin entered the keyhole, I heard an audible crack and I gasped, thinking I had broken it. I remained completely still for twenty-seven pitter-pattering drops before I braced myself and began moving the end.

With a sigh, the last of the pins came undone. I wasn’t even sure I had done it until I heard something like a click ring out against the wind. I pulled back the hairpin and reeled in my hand as well, wincing but otherwise ignoring the pain. Excitement doesn’t even quite begin to describe how I felt as I worked my way out of there. Even though my ankle stung with fresh pain, I kicked the door with both feet. I kicked with the same viciousness one might use to hit a piñata, laughing and no longer caring if anyone could hear me or not. I felt dominant, victorious.

I pushed with both arms, though they felt like weak string, and my legs, putty. After endless moments, I managed to create enough space between the open door and the chains that held it shut to maneuver myself out. I arched and wiggled forward, my clothes and bare flesh sticking to the wood and velvet tapestry beneath me. I shuddered. It really could have been a coffin.

Once outside of the confessional, I collapsed to my knees. My legs felt sore and stiff from lying flat for so long, but the pain was not unwelcome. I reached for my face and felt the wet there. I was crying and hadn’t realized it.

Pulling the hair back from my face and neck, I craned my neck to the sky and tried to stretch that out as well. It seemed the rain had stopped and only leftover water dripped from the containers above. Clouds moved freely in the sky, tufts of white hovering around the blue and gray.

I put my hand to my chest and counted the beats. How was I so fortunate to escape death multiple times in a single week?

I pushed myself up with my hand, instantly regretting the act. Though it was still hard to see, I could make out the cuts I had given myself. Ironically, the damage I had done to myself seemed to be the worst of it. My head ached considerably, though it could have been from hunger in addition to being hit. And my ankle still ached.

I stood up and tried to walk. Dizziness overcame me immediately and my body threatened to black out. I took another step and felt the grinding pain in my ankle slip up my leg. I clenched my empty stomach. I hadn’t frozen, so didn’t need thawing out, but I could feel how weak my body had become.

I reached out for something to hold onto, my fingers tingling when I tried to wrap them around a pillar in the hold. They felt slightly more comfortable as they gripped the pillar, though my shaking failed to stop. I tried to count the pitter-patter of leftover rain off the webbing, though it didn’t help in the slightest.

Now I was free, but where was Charlie?

A stampede of noise answered my question. I heard my name being called from outside the hold, and bellowed laughter. I hated to hear Charlie so distressed, and at the same time, I was so grateful to know he was still alive and capable of speaking.

I dropped to the floor, not caring that I was soaking, and crawled beyond the pillar and past a segment of containers that was only stacked a few yards high. I felt water slow me down, stretching the cotton of the sweatshirt. The fear that Wallace or even Charlie might have seen me as they barged in was overwhelming.

“Addie!”

The clanking of metal accompanied the laughter. Charlie called out for me again and again. I bit my tongue to fight my own tears. I could taste the blood from my assault on my swollen lip.

“Relax, loverboy, she isn’t far!”

I peered around the corner, carefully insuring the hood of the sweatshirt was well secured over my head and face. Although I exposed one of my eyes, I saw Wallace pointing in the direction of the confessional, muttering something into Charlie’s ear. The worst of it was the knife pressed at his back; I could see it glimmering in the light that struggled to get through. “Bastard! I’ll kill you!”

I knew calling out would give me away. And then what? Wallace might put me back in the confessional and that was if I was lucky. I had to stall. If I kept quiet, I could sneak out and get help. Where in the hell was Ben Walden or those brutes Yuri and Reid when a girl needed them?

He called out for me again. I closed my eyes and felt the tears slip. I tried not to focus on the sadness I heard there, but he sounded so completely shattered that I couldn’t stop it from breaking my heart.

“Damn!” Something metal slammed again. “I was hoping to drag that out.” He laughed some more. “Must have hit her harder than I thought.”

A growl emerged from the depths of Charlie, though I knew he wasn’t Charlie anymore. He had become that darkness inside of himself. He was letting the beast take over now, not caring about himself or the consequences of his actions.

With my peripheral vision, I saw the clashing of limbs and a torso against a metal side, but I lunged myself from behind the container and began running down the gangway. If either of them noticed me, they didn’t acknowledge it. Again, I was completely grateful for my ability to be invisible. Or maybe they did see me and I was too consumed with getting help for Charlie to realize it. I knew I could only be helpful to him this way. I didn’t feel the skin on my foot splitting open against the metal planks or the wind ripping against my face. I ignored the cramp in my side when it began and tried to pretend like the world wasn’t moving agonizingly slow until I got to the door of the hold.

I clamped onto each end of the large spinning wheel door and tried to budge it. The only thing that resulted was a groan that erupted from the lips of the door and my own divine swearing.

Behind me something struck. I could hear it echo as it landed on the metal floor; the sound of a body was unmistakable. I could see Charlie against the floor. He seemed quick to move, but his body only dodged more blows. Wallace had been slowed by his own injuries, and my eyes searched for some kind of hope. I didn’t have to look far, finding it within shielded glass; I released the fire extinguisher from its cage with my elbow. It was only after the adrenaline wore off that I would feel the pain there, but the extra clothing prevented any skin from breaking.

With whatever I had, I swung at Wallace’s knees. Having his back to me, he never saw me coming, never even expected me to be anywhere near him. So although I may not have bruised him as much as inconvenienced him, it was enough for him to turn his attentions away from Charlie.

During their brief argument, my love had done something horrendous to the side of this man’s face, as the muscle tissue and bone no longer fit into place, but rather slid off at the end of his left eye socket and draped down to his lip. I gasped when I saw it, felt my fingers grow weak with the weight of the fire extinguisher and it fell from my hands.

As it landed and echoed, Charlie pulled himself from the floor and charged at the small glint of light in Wallace’s hand. Logic told me to try and hit him again, but both bodies were scrambling on top of each other at such rapid speed, I knew I could never be fast enough to target just one.

Failing anything else, I ran back to the door and tried it again. This time I screamed, putting all of my weight into it as I pulled.

Mid-scream I fell to the floor.

The door was opened from the outside and I had less than three seconds to cover my head before Reid and Polo practically stepped on top of me.

Frankly, though, they could have stepped on me and I still would have been completely ecstatic to see them.

Polo managed to brush by me with his Polo laugh, noticing somehow in the chaos that I was there. “Hey! Hey! Sorry, Addie!”

More limbs and fists entered the tumbleweed of violence and I had to look away. As I did, Yuri ran past me, nodding in my direction. Ben Walden came through the doorway behind him, as placid as ever. “Are you all right, dear?”

I nodded frantically, to which he patted me on the shoulder and walked into the chaos. For a brief moment, he turned back to me. “You should probably wait outside.”

I hardly needed to be told twice and stumbled my way out the door on shaky legs.

Waiting.

When I finally made it inside, Yuri was shouting something in his native language and Reid was already in the cockpit, trying to adjust a headset and a number of switches and gauges that seemed far too complicated to follow.

“Oh man, oh man, oh man!” There wasn’t much of the narrow aisle left, but Polo still managed to pace diligently in the small space between the cushy, white leather seats. I guessed the plane could probably fit ten people comfortably. Did they own this?

“What happened back there?”

“Later,” Charlie said. He eased himself into one of the seats, his knuckles growing white as he clenched his abdomen. It was only now that my relief was wearing off that I noticed how pale he was, how slow and winded his movements were, as they had been since limping from the hold.

“Charlie?”

He smiled at me, but it was thin and worn. He reached out for my hand and let his fingers dance on my wrist. The fear began when I saw how much they shook. And now that it occurred to me why they were all so eager to get back to the States and out of Singapore, the terror erupted in me as well.