part0039

Blake’s senses began to return. First the throbbing pain behind his temples. Then the awareness of his body, sprawled out on the hard surface.

The stench was nauseating.

His tongue touched his lips. They were dry and coated in grit.

He opened his eyes and rocked himself onto one elbow.

The soft glow of cool sunlight filtered in from beyond the opening to the room. Through blurry vision, he took it all in. The iron bars, the graffitied concrete walls. It was as if he’d been transported to another time and place. A post-apocalyptic world.

Blake sat up and shook his head to clear the cobwebs from his brain.

Was he hallucinating?

He turned to his right. The sight of the young girl in the corner behind him sent his pulse skyrocketing. He jumped to his feet and spun around. There, in the other corner, was another one.

Both girls sat completely still, their doe-like eyes fixed on him. Dried blood was caked on their gaunt faces. For a fleeting moment, he thought they might be dead. Propped up in a sick exhibit. But no. They were broken, to be sure, but they were alive.

He could hardly believe it. After all this time, they had somehow survived.

It was a stroke of luck that he ended up there, with them. He had never been so happy to have been captured in his life.

The last time he had been knocked unconscious, he was shoved into a trunk of a car, held captive and tortured for hours on end. He had vowed to never let it happen again. Now, he thanked the gods of stupidity that he’d failed to make good on his promise.

Blake rushed to the petite girl with the short, boy-like hair. He dropped to one knee and reached out his hand. She flinched.

“You’re Lucy, right?” Blake said.

“I’m a friend of your moms’. I’m going to get you out of here.”

Lucy squeezed her knees in toward her chest. She didn’t trust him. And he didn’t blame her.

“I know you and I have never met,” Blake said, “but I’ve known your mom Christa for a long time. And your Aunt Anja, too. Your mom called me to help find you. They’re worried sick.”

Lucy’s eyes glistened. “The Captain,” she said. Her voice was thin. Barely audible. “He’s going to kill us. He’s going to kill you too.”

The Captain. She was talking about the man in the Naval cap.

Blake forced a smile. It intensified the pain behind his eyes. “No, he won’t. He’s never going to hurt you again, I promise you.”

Tears streamed down Lucy’s face. She looked so small. So fragile.

Blake reached out again and stroked her hair. Instead of retreating, she leaned her head into his hand.

“You’re so strong, Lucy. Your parents will be so proud of you.” Blake looked over his shoulder. “Both of you.” He shifted his body to face the opposite corner. “You must be Zoe.”

Zoe nodded, then shuddered and covered her face with her hands.

Blake understood her fear. He could have been just another threat, as far as she knew. But she wasn’t reacting to him. She had heard something, and now Blake heard it too. Someone was moving.

Blake stood up and darted to the gate. He stuck his hand through the bars and grasped the padlock. The shiny metal lock was an anachronism. A modern tool in an otherwise archaic setting. He pulled on it. It was securely locked.

The clasps through which it was threaded were heavily rusted, but they were thick. There was no way Blake was going to be able to break them with his bare hands.

Outside the cell, the nondescript rustling consolidated into a discernible sound of rubber soles scuffing against the concrete floor.

Blake stood with his legs apart and his fists balled and away from his sides. He waited for the man to appear. To finally come face to face with his adversary.

Blake glanced to either side, as if to send a message to each girl saying, ‘I’ve got you.’ And he did. Whatever happened, he would die before letting anyone lay another finger on either of them.

Then, like the finale of a grand stage illusion, a figure appeared in the backlit opening. The concrete proscenium framing the star of the show. Only, it wasn’t who he expected. Not in a million years.

In a crazy and beautiful twist of fate, the universe had sent them all the gift of salvation.

A combination of excitement, amazement and relief washed over him. A flood of emotion took over his body.

“Lucas! Am I glad to see you buddy,” Blake said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Lucas said.

“We have to hurry. I need you to look around for a key. A small key that can open this lock. Okay? Can you do that for me?”

Lucas shrugged. “Okay, Mr. Blake.” And with that, he shuffled off.

From the second Lucas left Blake’s view, Blake could feel the anxiety balling up in his stomach.

What if Lucas became distracted? What if he wandered off in search of his next scheduled event? What if he forgot about them?

Blake took a breath. Lucas was child-like, but more capable than he seemed. Blake had faith in him. Confidence that he would complete the task.

“Lucas?” Blake called out. He pressed his head against the bars with his ear facing out.

There was no response.

“Lucas? Buddy? You still there?”

“Yeah.” Lucas came around the corner, the key gripped in his raised hand.

“Fantastic job,” Blake said. “Who’s better than you, Lucas? Bring it here.”

It was ironic. For all of Blake’s pity, it was Lucas who would end up saving them. He was an unlikely hero. But a hero, nonetheless.

Lucas handed Blake the key. He popped open the padlock and let it fall to the ground. Then he swung the gate open and stepped toward Lucas.

“I was worried about you, Lucas. Where the hell have you been? How did you find us? Is there anyone else here?”

“No,” Lucas said.

“Okay, you can tell me the rest later. Let’s go find our way out of here,” Blake looked back at the girls. They remained curled up in their respective corners. He waved them toward him. “Come on, we’ve gotta go now. Can you walk?”

Lucy stood up slowly, then looked at Zoe.

Zoe rose to her feet.

“I know you’re scared,” Blake said, “but we need to get you two—three—somewhere safe before he comes back. I’ll deal with him after we figure out where we are.”

Blake stepped back and waited. Lucy started to move. She took short, tentative steps, eventually joining Blake outside the cage.

“It’s okay, Zoe.” Blake held out his hand toward her. “You can do it. I need you to be strong. Take my hand. We’ll go together.”

Without warning, Zoe launched herself toward Blake. She barreled through the opened gate, knocking Blake’s outstretched hand away with her body. She raised her arms above her head and threw herself forward.

As her arms drove downward, Blake caught a glimpse of the blade that protruded from her two-handed grip, just before she plunged it into Lucas’s chest.

Lucas crumpled to the ground. Zoe stood panting like a rabid dog, still clutching the blood-soaked knife.

Blake grabbed her wrist and wrenched the blade from her hands. He dropped to his knees and placed his hand on Lucas’s chest. Blood gushed from the wound. It flowed over Blake’s fingers and pooled on the floor.

Lucas gurgled and gasped. A second later came another sporadic breath. Blake knew what it meant. The agonal breathing was familiar to him. It was called the death rattle, and it meant Lucas was not going to make it.

“No! Come on, Lucas. Stay with me.”

The next breath did not come.

Blake turned to Zoe. He yelled in anger and confusion. “Why? Why did you do that?”

Zoe stood silently, without the slightest hint of emotion.

“She can’t answer you,” Lucy said. “He cut out her tongue.”

Blake could feel the blood rushing away from his face. He looked at Zoe in horror. She turned her head slightly, looked him in the eye and snapped her mouth open wide.

The grotesque mutilation he saw shocked and enraged him. “Who? Who did this to you?”

Zoe closed her mouth, lifted her arm, and pointed at Lucas.