Gone (Gone #1) (17 page)

Anderson pulled out Macy's new camisole, which was covered in blood.

A foreign sound escaped from Zoey's throat. "I gave that to her for her birthday. Her old one was too big after she lost weight." She sat back down in the chair. How much more of this would she have to endure? They showed her socks, but Zoey didn't know if they were Macy's.

Zoey waited for them to bring out underwear and a bra, but they didn't. Was that a good thing?

"Where did you find these?" Valerie asked.

"A jogger found them near the mall."

"That's where she was supposed to meet him." Zoey felt lightheaded. "They were just supposed to go to the mall."

One of the cops looked at her. "But that area had been gone over. The clothes weren't there a couple days ago."

"Does that mean she's close?" Zoey sat up, hopeful. "We've got to find her."

Fleshman shook his head. "The clothes appeared to have been placed there. There wasn't a sign of struggle or anything else suspicious. We had some dogs brought in, and they couldn't detect a thing."

What could it all mean? Zoey looked at each of the cops. None of them appeared to know more than she did.

"When will you know whose blood that is?" Valerie asked.

"It could be as long as a week. We're going to request they make it a priority, but it's not our department. We can only hope they'll comply since it's a missing child case."

Zoey ran her hands through her hair, not caring how much she messed it up. She had to get out of there. The walls were closing in on her. Her eyes were also getting heavy. She needed to get some sleep, even if it was riddled with nightmares. Her eyes closed, giving into their weight.

She drifted off to sleep right away. Images of bloody clothes filled her dreams. Somewhere, Macy was calling for help.

"Zoey, we're leaving now."

Not wanting to move, she pretended not to hear her mom. She didn't care that she was sleeping in a chair down at the station. At least she was sleeping.

"Come on, Zoey. You can sleep in the car."

She mumbled something that not even she understood.

"A little help, please?"

Zoey felt hands slide under her legs and around her back. She had the vague awareness of being carried. Good. She didn't feel like opening her eyes or walking.

Bound

Macy opened her eyes, but it was just as dark as when they were closed. She looked around, trying to see anything. Was she back in Heather's room? Something covered her mouth. Macy moved her mouth back and forth. It felt like duct tape.

She went to sit up, but couldn't move. What was going on? She moved her arms, but they wouldn't budge. She tried her legs next, and they were stuck, too. She wiggled around, feeling pressure around her wrists, ankles, and knees. Was she tied up?

Her hair rested on her cheek, making it itch. She moved her head to scratch the itch with her shoulder. Instead, she scratched her face on something hard, breaking the skin. She moved her head around, feeling a poking sensation along her face.

No.

She was back in the barn. She was lying on hay. She looked around again, hoping to see something as her eyes adjusted to the dark. She couldn't make anything out. Not a single shape. It had to be really late, unless her eyes had been covered too.

Squirming, she managed to get her shoulder up to her face. Something was wrapped around her eyes. It could be the middle of the day for all she knew.

She could hear hooves up above. If she'd doubted she was back in the dungeon, those doubts were gone. She could hear the rodents moving around in the room somewhere.

What could she do? George and Ingrid were on the farm. If she screamed, they would hear her if they were near the barn. If they found her, she could tell them everything. They could call the police and get her home.

On the other hand, Chester could hear her screaming and make things even worse for her.

She didn't care. It was worth the risk. She had to take it.

Macy took a deep breath, preparing herself to yell louder than she ever had before. She let out the loudest, bone-curdling scream she could muster. It barely made a sound because of the duct tape.

Her stomach growled. How long had she been back in the dungeon? More importantly, how much longer would she be there? She had to find a way out this time. Although it would clearly be more challenging now that she was bound up.

The last thing she was going to do was to wallow in her misery. She needed to find a way to get herself free. She couldn't tell for sure, but it felt like zip ties were wrapped around her wrists and ankles. They were skinny and tight, painfully digging into her flesh. He probably made them too tight on purpose. He wanted her to pay for talking back to him.

Did he seriously believe that he was doing her a favor? That she was lucky? He might have hoped that tying her up and sticking her back in the barn would make her need him more, but it had backfired. She was pissed off, and after she freed herself she would attack him when he came back for her.

He would regret ever taking her. Strike that. He would regret ever having seen her online in the first place. She had seen enough of Alex's karate to put some of it to use. She wished she had paid more attention, or even taken lessons herself, instead of texting and playing games, but it wasn't like she could have predicted that she would end up kidnapped.

Stupid jerk. He was going to pay. She wiggled and squirmed. No matter what it took, she was going to get up, and then she would find a way to free herself. As she fought to sit upright, she pictured the dungeon. In her mind's eye, she looked around for anything she could use to free herself.

Nothing came to mind, but she would have to find something. A sharp piece of wood sticking out from a wall, maybe. There had to be something.

As she continued to wiggle around, the hay scratched up her arms and face. She wasn't even sure if she had moved at all. When she had watched shows with someone tied up, she thought it had been over-dramatized. Now it seemed under-done. She wasn't getting anywhere, and she was starting to break out into a sweat.

The cloth over her eyes was collecting moisture and feeling heavier. Macy continued to fight, but no matter how much she struggled, she didn't get anywhere.

Her throat was dry, and she had to go to the bathroom. She had to find a way out of the restraints, if for no other reason than to relieve herself. With more fight than before, she struggled to get off the bale. Maybe she could at least try to stand up. Then she could find something—anything—to break the zip ties.

Her bladder burned, especially as she moved around. With each movement, it protested. She finally made some progress and rolled onto her stomach.

Tears of joy escaped. If she managed to roll over once, she could do it again. She moved her head to the side, getting her face out of the bale.

The pressure on her bladder was too much. She wasn't going to be able to hold it until she could get the ties off and her pants down.

No. Please.

Her burning bladder was all she could focus on. She had to go so bad. New tears ran down out of her eyes, soaking the blindfold.

She was about to pee herself, she knew it was only a matter of minutes, if that. She squeezed her muscles together to keep it in, squirming and rolling with as much force as she could. She rolled again, feeling a strange sensation. She was falling. It felt further than one bale. How far was she going to fall?

Thud. She landed flat on her back. She let out a cry, and then her bladder released its contents. Warm liquid ran through her pants, puddling around her.

Macy stayed in place, crying again. More than before, she wanted to get home. Back to her family.
If I ever get back, I swear I will appreciate them. I'll do what I'm supposed to.

She stayed there, making promises into the duct tape until the puddle around her went cold. Her stomach growled again, but the smell of her urine made her gag.

Shivers ran through her. It was getting cold, and being in a puddle wasn't helping anything. Having learned a little bit about rolling over while restrained, she was able to roll over onto her side easier than she had before.

It felt like hours had passed since she woke up. How long was he going to leave her down there? Her blood ran cold as the most horrible thought struck: what if he had left her down there to die? Was he looking for a new Heather even now?

Macy knew his name and his parents' names. She could easily describe the barn and the farmhouse. She was a risk for him to let go if he had decided she was too much trouble.

Fresh determination ran through her. She had to get out of the barn—alive. She didn't care what it took; she was going to find a way out and then get home. She didn't care if she was clear across the country. She would do it somehow.

The first thing she had to do was to roll until she hit something, preferably a wall. Then she would find a board to rub against the zip tie holding her arms together. She ignored her drenched, cold pants and rolled herself over again.

She was getting tired and she was still hungry and thirsty. She knew she could go about three days without water, but she didn't even know how long it had been already.

No matter what it would take, she
would
get out and back to her family.

Reminders

Chad pulled his arm away from Alyssa. She had finally fallen asleep after insisting that he hold her. She had been so upset with herself for forgetting about Alex when they left for the station.

Alex would have figured they left him to sleep. The poor kid hadn't had much rest himself the last week, and the last thing Chad had wanted was for his son to have to deal with seeing Macy's clothes. Alex was already upset enough about her disappearance.

Alex was just like Chad, keeping his feelings to himself, but Chad could read him like a book. He could see that Macy's disappearance was eating Alex up.

Sitting up, he fixed the blankets around Alyssa. Even though it was late and he was exhausted, he couldn't sleep. How could he after seeing his daughter's bloody clothes?

Chad knew enough about blood loss to know that the amount on the clothes wasn't enough to kill her. It was more like a cut. A bad one, but not enough to be fatal.

A sick feeling settled into his stomach. How could anyone do that to his daughter? He would personally hunt down the one responsible and beat him within an inch of his life. He would find out what he did to Macy, and then he would do exactly the same thing to the sick bastard.

Maybe someone had posted something on his blog. Since her clothes had been found, maybe more evidence would pop up, too. The traffic to his blog had more than quadrupled over the last week. In fact, it had received so much traffic that it had shut down for a while. He had to pay for more hosting because his plan couldn't handle it.

He couldn't afford to let it be down. What if someone had news about Macy?

Knowing that his family would probably think he was a jerk, he got up out of bed and went down to his office. It was for Macy, no matter what they thought about him being on his blog. It was to help her.

At least with the blog, he could give his side of the story. He was able to let everyone know what his family was really like. He posted pictures that the news wanted nothing to do with. Ironically, those were the ones that the blog visitors loved the most.

His broken heart hurt even more knowing he couldn't call his dad. When he had been alive, Chad had been able to call him any time he needed to talk. What would Dad tell him? Probably to fight for Macy. That was what he had to do.

Chad climbed out of bed, careful not to wake Alyssa. He grabbed her phone from the headboard and took it with him downstairs. People called around the clock these days, and he didn't want anyone waking her.

He went to his office and went straight to his laptop. In another situation, he would have been thrilled looking at the numbers. He had more comments than he had time to read. The page views were unlike anything he had ever seen, even the day before. All those people cared about Macy.

He pulled the chair up and went to his comments. He read through them, answering each one. When he looked up to check the time, he saw that three and a half hours had already passed. It was getting light out. The house was still silent, which meant that Alex and Alyssa were both getting the sleep they needed.

His eyes were getting heavy. As much as he wanted to write a post, he knew he didn't have it in him to write a good enough one. Macy deserved better, and so did the people reading the posts.

There also wasn't much to report, since he wasn't supposed to say anything about the clothes. If people were really interested in what he had to say, they would read his replies to all the comments.

People would stop visiting if he didn't get a new post up soon. His vision was blurry, and his body ached. Surely they would understand and could wait a few hours. His neck and shoulders were sore from so many hours spent sleeping against his desk or on the couch.