Wanted (8 page)

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Authors: Amanda Lance

BOOK: Wanted
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He shrugged. “‘Cause we all kinda figured you’d die, and nobody wanted a murder charge.”

I stifled a gasp. I didn’t want to think of myself with murder, particularly as a murder victim. The entire concept made me shudder.

“No,” I said firmly. “This is not happening. No, no, no, no, no.”

He laughed. Again I couldn’t believe it, thought I must have misheard the sound, but when I looked up, he was smiling.

“That’s a real funny way to say ‘thank you.’”

I took my hands from my head. In the moment, the anger steadied me. I narrowed my eyes, trying to strike him down by sheer force of will.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, I did save your life and all.” His smile widened.

My initial analysis had been incorrect. Here I was thinking that I was crazy for finding this person attractive, and then arguing with him, and even willingly conversing with him, suffering from the early stages of some madness. It was made clear to me now that I was the only sane person in the room.

“Are you kidding?”

He laughed. I still liked the sound and hated myself instantly. “You would be dead if it wasn’t for me.”

“I wouldn’t be here at all if it wasn’t for you.”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

I shuddered. “You’re disgusting.”

Charlie glared at me, but said nothing and only broke his stare when he saw me stand up.

I immediately went for the door. I was surprised to find it unlocked, but outside it only led to a narrow hallway with metal white pipes and linoleum floors. I considered that may have been some sort of elaborate prison constructed for their victims, but then shook my head. I needed to find an exit. I looked left and right, but neither direction offered anything different.

Taking a guess, I ran to the right and kept right on running. I passed a series of simple doors that were unlabeled, but I threw my fists on them anyway, hoping someone would come out and help. Below me the floor shifted and swelled, knocking me over.

“Guess you ain’t got your sea legs yet, huh?” Charlie was standing above me then. I guess I hadn’t gotten as far as I had hoped. My breath heaved with anger and my head pulsed with pain.

“Take. Me. Home,” I demanded.

“I. Can’t.” He seemed amused and held out a hand to help me up. Only this time I didn’t accept it and picked myself back up. I glared at him with all of the mental daggers I could throw and continued walking down the hall. He followed at a distance he deemed safe.

“Fine, but you or one of your thieving friends will have to shoot me if you expect me to cooperate. I’ll find my own way out of here.”

He laughed. “What part of ‘in the middle of the Atlantic’ don’t you understand?”

“I don’t believe you.” That wasn’t entirely true. It was more like I didn’t want to believe him, but as my senses tuned in to the sounds of calamity above us and the floor continued to sway ever so slightly, I was beginning to fear it was true.

He stopped laughing and became serious again. “Wait here a second.” He then ran back in the direction we had come from. Or at least I think it was the same direction. I reached up and grabbed a long strip of piping that had some kind of meshing attached around it. When I let go, my fingers were covered with grease and smelled of gasoline.

“Don’t touch nothin’.”

I gasped and felt my hand at my chest. “Don’t creep up on me!”

He smiled. “I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did!”

He laughed and handed me the denim jacket I recognized from the night before. “What’s this for?”

“Technically, you’re a stowaway. You should try not to get caught.” He handed me a red ball cap and watched intently as I put it on. Like the jacket, it was much too big, but I bundled up my hair and tucked as much of it as I could in the cap.

“What happens if someone finds me here?”

“They won’t.”

“What if they do?”

“They won’t, Addie. I won’t let ‘em.”

I tried to laugh, but it didn’t come out right. “Yeah, right.”

I followed him down a short set of halls and then up a bunch of painted stairs and more hallways. Although it felt good to move after so long, my body didn’t appreciate the long walk. The muscles in my shoulders and legs ached, but I was slightly amazed that thin bandages had been wrapped around my ankles where the skin had begun to blister. There was also a band-aid on my foot. When I was putting on the jacket I could smell a sort of ointment against the abrasions that circled my wrists. I felt instant hope at this realization. This meant there had to be a doctor on board. Someone had taken care of me, someone knew I was there. Maybe the Coast Guard was coming for me at this very moment.

Once we reached the deck, I was grateful for both the hat and the jacket. The wind was downright ferocious, and when it bounced from the sea, the temperature dropped dramatically. I turned my head away as it made me shiver. Men, all wearing safety helmets and life vests, were scattered around, some busying themselves with tools, others doing things with cables and wires that I didn’t understand. I wanted to pretend they were all props in some great lie, that they were part of this practical joke being pulled on me, that maybe I was hallucinating, or had fallen down the rabbit hole.

Beyond and around them lay the awesome, unending sea in rays of blue and black.

He hadn’t been lying after all.

Overwhelmed with nausea, I ran from Charlie and over to the edge. One of the men looked at me strangely but didn’t say anything. The sounds of hammering and brushing were terrible. How did these people work like this all day? I tried to figure if Dad would go into the office with me still gone. Oh God, poor Dad. He must be worried out of his mind. I stared into the vague blue of the sea and tried to send him a psychic message. I knew that stuff wasn’t real, but it was as good a time as any to doubt myself.

“You ain’t gonna jump, right? ‘Cause I ain’t a great swimmer.”

I glared at Charlie. He was struggling to light a cigarette against the lashing of the wind. I yanked it from his mouth and threw it into the sea.

He stared at me, slack-jawed and silent.

“Did I hear you say Singapore back there?” I hissed. “Did I hear you say six days?”

He just smiled and pulled out another cigarette from his pocket. “Unless you’re a great swimmer, then…” I threw the new one as well.

“Yeah.” He finished his thought and stared back and forth from me to his hands—amazed by the disappearance.

I put my head between my legs and tried deep calming breaths. It wasn’t doing much good; I was officially freaking out and becoming dizzy from my panic.

“What then?” I asked.

“The American embassy is real close to the port. You can go straight there.”

I stood back up and looked him in the eye, wanting,
needing
to know the answer. “How do I know you or someone else won’t kill me before then?”

His eyes narrowed and he reached for a cigarette, but then smiled and put the pack away. “Guess you don’t.”

I wanted to say something else, but couldn’t think of anything clever enough. That alone bothered me. Why should I care what this kidnapper, thief, who-knows-what-else, thought of me? Social norms don’t apply when you’ve been taken hostage, right? Still, I couldn’t disengage that part of my psyche that searched for a better way to insult him. Instinctually, I felt as though I would be able to let go easier of those social properties if it wasn’t for him. By offering me some safety, he was already taking away my option to feel like a victim. And like the topic of Mom, the mere idea of it made me uncharacteristically angry. Perhaps knowing how unreasonable it was made it that much worse. I tried to think back and remember when a single individual had riled me so much in such a short amount of time, but couldn’t remember anyone.

“She’s alive! She’s alive!” A pair of hands grabbed me by the shoulders and almost sent me jumping out of my skin.

“Hey, take it easy.” Charlie punched at the life vest Yuri was wearing and he took mock swings back.

Oh, they are trying to kill me, I decided—by heart attack.

“Despite your people’s best efforts.” I bundled the jacket around me, as it was much too large, and wrapped my arms around myself. I could feel the warmth of Charlie inside—No, Addie, no. Stop that.

Yuri smiled and put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Hey, you were right about this one.”

I glared back and forth between them but thought better than to say anything.

Yuri took off his working gloves, which were black and rusty at the fingertips.

“You know, you’re pretty lucky, Little Girl.”

I looked back at Charlie. His eyes offered no explanation.

“The way Wallace bashed your head in and had that chokehold on you, we thought you were worms’ meat.” His laugh was menacing and it was enough to chill my spine. “The only reason Ben agreed to let you come aboard was so that when you did keel over, we could just throw you overboard. Real easy.” The loud snap of his fingers at the end of his explanation was enough to make me nauseous again. “We left so much evidence at the house we thought that would at least be a quick fix.”

Charlie punched him for real this time and Yuri stopped explaining. In all honesty, I wasn’t paying much attention to either of them anymore. I reached a hand behind my head and felt the sting there, winced at the pain, and again felt for the newly formed knot. At least that explained the headache. But when had that happened? I cringed to think of what else could have happened if Charlie hadn’t intervened.

“Right. Well, like I said, you’re lucky.” Yuri put the gloves back on and walked away.

I stared back out at the ocean and let it stare at me. Had I been so lucky? I reviewed some of my theories from before and tried to conclude if I really was being paranoid or not. I glanced over at Charlie, who had his arms leaning over the rails.

“Why are you doing this?”

“What?”

“Helping me. Why are you helping me?”

“I knew what you meant.” He smiled just a little, his entertainment was becoming an increasing irritation.

And he looked at me then and I could see the colors light up in his eyes for just a second before they dimmed. But it was only for a second and then it was gone.

“I don’t know,” he said finally.

“If you people are trying to mess with my mind or something, it won’t work.”

His eyes tightened. “I ain’t got a clue what you’re talking ‘bout.”

I gulped and started stammering. If he looked at everyone this way, it was understandable why they kept their distance from him. “If this is some way to get me to trust you, or get Stockholm Syndrome, it won’t work.”

“Huh?”

“You guys probably set up the entire thing so Mister-Angry-Smash-Addie could
almost
kill me and you could save the day just in time and I’d feel loyal or obligated to you or something. That’s how kidnappers do that sort of thing, right?”

For a moment he seemed confused, but then his grip on the ledge tightened before he reached for a cigarette. This time I did not deny him. And when the hardness set in his face and I remembered that dark edge I had seen him go over when enraged, I pulsated with the possibility that he might drag me over it with him.

“All anybody ‘round here cares ‘bout is profit. Messing with people’s heads wouldn’t do nobody any good.” The darkness seemed to fade out and I was well-aware of my own relief. I saw his lips twitch up in a smile that promised something fantastic and warm. “’Sides, ain’t nobody around here smart enough to think of something like that anyhow.”

“Isn’t messing with people’s heads a key element in business?”

“How is messing with your head gonna help me?”

“Maybe you’re holding me for ransom. Getting me to cooperate would make your job considerably easier.”

His smile turned into a full-fledged grin. “Come on. I wanna show you something.”

Back inside his cabin, Charlie pulled out a laptop from inside a plastic crate that was covered with worn stickers and labels that I couldn’t read. He sat on the bed and gestured for me to sit beside him. “We don’t got access for much longer, so you better hurry up.”

I was reluctant to sit beside him for several reasons, the main one being how uncomfortable his physical presence actually made me and the other involved how part of me wanted to take that seat next to him.

His fingers typed away at the keys. While still looking at the screen, he said, “I promise I won’t bite…unless you ask.”

I rolled my eyes to make it very clear I was disgusted, and then sat as far away from him on the bed as I possibly could. I didn’t want him to know he affected me. At the same time I was glad the oversized jacket covered the blush that spread across my arms. I folded my legs while he handed me the laptop. I was amazed to see my name in so many of the blue links, most of them from trusted news providers.

“What—”

He started to laugh. “You’ve been front page news for the last day or so.”

I scrolled down the page of the search engine and read the links. Most of them were repetitive with titles like: “Local Teen Gone Missing,” “Progeny Homeschooled Student Missing from Filling Station,” and “Kidnapped Teen and Murder in Syracuse.” Beneath them in small print I saw my name, which Charlie had typed in the search engine. I clicked on a few, but they only relayed information I already knew. It was only the articles filed within the last few hours that really intrigued my interest.

 

“Suspect in Battes Kidnapping”

Syracuse, NY
— With cooperation from local authorities, FBI officials have obtained video documentation of missing teenager Adeline Battes recorded within an hour of her father reporting her disappearance. Miss Battes is viewed on security camera footage speaking with a male whom authorities have identified as Charles Hays, who is now wanted for questioning in the Battes kidnapping and whose arrest warrant is also being issued for numerous parole violations.

Hays, convicted of voluntary manslaughter, felony theft, and unlawful weapons possession, is a well-known associate of alleged art thief and illegal tradesman Benjamin Walden. Walden and Hays were both incarcerated at Riverbend Maximum Security Institution. Walden was convicted of second degree murder in 1996. He was paroled in 2010, but failed to maintain contact with the state and remains at large. Hays, paroled in 2009, has also failed to maintain the terms of that parole agreement, and has now been positively identified by witnesses and camera footage as the male Miss Battes was speaking with.

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