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JODIE’S EYES BLINKED open. “What?” She sounded groggy, like Kennedy’s roommate Willow did nearly every weekend when she finally woke up.
“They want you to take the pills now.” Kennedy tried to seize some of the peace, some of the comfort from before and wrap her words up in it. She didn’t know how or why, but she knew — as certainly as she knew that the earth was round or that her parents loved her — things would work out all right. Was there a way to make Jodie believe it, too?
Lord, please give her that same comfort. Give her the same trust. Unfortunately, it was yet another prayer whispered in vain.
Jodie clutched Kennedy’s arm. “I don’t want those.”
Kennedy stroked her hair. “I know.” What else was there to say? “I know.”
“I can’t.”
Vinny let out a huff of air. “Enough whining. Now do it.”
“I can’t,” Jodie repeated, shaking her head weakly from side to side.
“I told you ...” Vinny roared, but he didn’t get to finish. A high-pitched squeal sounded, louder than any smoke detector Kennedy had ever heard. Both she and Jodie clasped their hands to their ears. A red light on the wall strobed, making shadows dance and flicker. Vinny muttered angrily under his breath and raced to the workbench. Dustin had already grabbed one of the guns and was sprinting up the steps. Vinny snatched two others and rushed right behind him.
Kennedy freed her arm from Jodie’s clutches. If she didn’t act now, she would never have the courage. She sucked in her breath, leapt up from the couch, and dashed to the laptop. Please start up. Please start up.
The screen lit within seconds. Kennedy let out the air she had been holding. She forgot all about the pills. She forgot all about the serenity God had poured out over her spirit a few minutes earlier. She had only one mission.
A browser was open to some sort of list. If there was more time, she might have tried to figure out what it was. She opened a new tab and typed in the web address for St. Margaret’s, mentally chiding Carl for not giving his church a shorter name. What would Vinny do to her if he came downstairs now? It didn’t matter. She had to find a way to get Jodie free. The siren blared. The screeching noise fired agony into her ears. She had to move fast. As soon as the webpage came up, she clicked on tab to leave a comment. She didn’t know if the messages went right to Carl or to some receptionist, but that didn’t matter as long as it got to someone fast. She had to tell them where she was. As far as Carl knew, she was really busy with school, and her voice was too hoarse to allow her to talk on the phone. Her fingers trembled as they flew over the keyboard. It took all of her self-control to leave the misspellings there instead of wasting the time to correct them.
It’s Kennedy. I’m here with Jodie A. Two men are keeping us in a basement.
There was so much more to say. She wanted to tell him how long of a drive it took to get there. She wanted to tell him that when Dustin went to the store, it was a little over half an hour before he returned. She wanted to tell him the names and descriptions of the men involved, including Anthony Abernathy. But there was no time. If either of the men came down and saw her at the laptop ...
She clicked the send button only to have the computer protest because she hadn’t entered a valid email. She grumbled at the website designer, then blasted in her address — typos and all — and exited out of the browser. For a second, she worried that she had also closed down the page Dustin and Vinny had up, but there it was again. Some sort of itinerary, maybe? She wondered if she should switch the laptop to sleep mode or if it was better to let the screensaver start on its own. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? If they saw the screen on now, they would know she had done something. For a moment, she considered cuffing herself back by the couch so if they accused her, she could deny it. But of course they would remember if she were handcuffed when they left. Wouldn’t they?
Her heart was throbbing when she got back to the couch, and her stomach was twisted in a knot. For the first time, she was glad she hadn’t eaten that other half of the burger. Her legs were weak and unsteady, like stalks of limp celery.
Jodie stared at her wide-eyed, her hands still over her ears. “What’s going on?”
Kennedy wished she knew. The alarm continued to shriek. Had someone broken into the complex? Was that why the men both grabbed their guns before they raced upstairs? Or could this be some sort of a drill? If it was an attack, did the men plan to leave the two girls down here to fend for themselves? Kennedy wished the siren would stop, but she didn’t want Dustin or Vinny to come downstairs until the laptop’s screensaver kicked in again. And what would she say if they noticed something was different about the computer? What if they questioned her? Was there any sort of excuse she could come up with to stay out of trouble? Her lungs constricted, and she had to force air in and out of her chest while her mind raced through its different options. What if she told them she was worried about Jodie and went online to research medical conditions that might cause her bleeding? She glanced over. Jodie’s skin tone had improved. Her eyes looked tired and nervous, but she didn’t appear to be experiencing any pain or discomfort.
Could she tell them she had an assignment due today and was checking up on the status of one of her classes? No one would believe that a hostage, however much of a perfectionist, would sneak onto a laptop to check on homework. The only thing to do was hope that either the screensaver would kick in on time or they would be so worked up over the alarm they wouldn’t notice.
“Why did they run upstairs?” Jodie asked.
“I don’t know.” For a minute, she considered telling Jodie this was all some sort of a drill. But what if it really was a rescue attempt? What if someone had noticed one of them missing and tracked them to the complex? Someone could have followed Anthony Abernathy if he came here earlier to talk to Vinny. Someone may have witnessed Kennedy’s abduction on the side of the road. And of course, if anyone realized that Senator Abernathy’s daughter was kidnapped, the city would throw all its resources into finding her as soon as possible.
Now that sirens were shrieking in her ears and the red strobe light was pulsing pain to the back of her head, Kennedy almost wished things were back how they had been. She didn’t know what was going to happen. She didn’t know if whatever battle might be raging upstairs would work its way to the basement or not. She thought about the weapons stockpiled on the workbench. How long could Vinny and Dustin hold off a rescue team?
She stood up. “I wonder if we should go wait in the bathroom.” She tried to think of something to say to keep Jodie from feeling frightened. No matter how fast her heart was racing, no matter how her lungs burst at the thought of fresh air, this might be some sort of a drill or internal conflict. Still, she wanted to get Jodie someplace a little safer, a little more protected. “Maybe we could find a way to clean up your clothes.”
Jodie didn’t answer. Her eyes were wide, and her hand was cold when Kennedy helped her to her feet. “Do you hurt at all?” They shuffled toward the bathroom, and she wished Jodie would hurry. Kennedy’s whole body was tense, and her ears strained over the alarm for the gunshots she expected to explode behind her at any minute.
When they got to the bathroom, Kennedy shut the door behind them. There wasn’t anything she could use as a barricade. Now what? Jodie looked up at her with trusting eyes, and Kennedy’s heart felt like it had been wrung dry. Lord, how am I supposed to help her? How am I supposed to help either of us? She remembered the peace that covered her before the alarm sounded. Why couldn’t she carry that calm around with her all the time? She wondered if other Christians, more mature believers, lived their entire lives in a constant state of awe, perpetually aware of the presence of the Holy Spirit. She thought about people like the Lindgrens or the Secret Seminary students. What would they do if they were here now? Sing hymns? Drop to their knees in prayer? The only thing Kennedy felt capable of doing was throwing up.
“Oh.” The color drained from Jodie’s face.
“Are you all right?”
“I think I need to pee.”
Kennedy faced the door to give Jodie some privacy. She almost offered to step out and wait, but her hands grew clammy at the thought of going back into the room where that red light sent shadows dancing wildly across the walls. The grease from the fast food she had eaten threatened to turn against her. “Take as long as you need,” she told Jodie. “I don’t mind.”
What was going on upstairs? When would Dustin and Vinny come down? What would they say when they found both girls in the bathroom? Kennedy hoped the screensaver had kicked in by now. At any rate, she would rather have them mad at her for taking Jodie to the toilet than for tampering with their computer.
Jodie made a little moaning noise.
“Is everything all right?” Kennedy asked without turning around.
The tiny little yes that answered back was anything but convincing.
Dear God, Kennedy prayed. She was sick of asking for rescue. She was sick of experiencing tiny glimpses of peace that didn’t last. She was sick of trying to maintain a trusting, positive attitude when the whole world around her was spiraling down to hell and madness.
Dear God, she began again, just get us out of here.