INK: Abstraction (6 page)

There are some pretty
deep cuts on my hands and wrists, but I think I’m going to make
it. I make quick work of the ties on my ankles and run for the door
with the knife still clasped tightly in my hand.

First I listen at the
door for any noise on the other side. There’s nothing but the
sound of crickets. Peeking out the crack between the door and wall
reveals a house. There are no lights on or any movement.

Even though there’s
a chill with the disappearance of the sun, sweat is dripping down my
brow into my eyes. I wipe it away, and even in the darkness I can
tell that I’m bleeding from my wrist and the blood is running
down my hand.

Satisfied that it's as
safe as it's going to get, I pull on the door handle. It doesn’t
move. Shit. It must be locked from the outside. Peering through the
crack again I see there’s a clasp that I’m assuming is
locked. I look at the window, trying to estimate if I can get out of
it. That’s big enough for me to fit through, I just have to get
up there. I drag the chair over to the window and pry it open. I try
to pull myself up and out, but I don’t have the strength.
Think, Shay
.

The moon offers a dim
gray hue, which isn’t much through the small window. I’m
able to see some wood and a few boxes. Depending on how heavy they
are I might be able to bring them over and stack them on the
workbench just below the window.

The first box I try is
too heavy. With all my strength I push it over, revealing an
automotive ramp.
Yes!
Something metal clanks on the floor, a
machete. I look up toward the heavens—
thank God for last
call in Heaven. About time that bitch quit drinking.

The ramp is made of
plastic. It’s still heavy, but I can lift it. I put it under
the window on the bench, retrieve the machete and climb up on the
chair, to the bench. I throw the machete out the window away from the
shed and climb out after it, landing hard in the bushes. The thud
feels so loud and shocks my body. After grabbing the machete I stay
on the ground until the pain subsides a little.

I slink around the
shed, thinking how happy I am that I was wearing black so I’ll
be hard to spot. I’m assuming that is Glass’ house and
there’s no safety there. Terror shoots through me at knowing
that I have to get away from here, as far and as fast as I can. I run
for the tree line like the devil himself is chasing me. I push
through the pain, cutting the vines of jasmine and brambles to make
my way as fast as I can. I’m not sure how far I’ve gone,
but I haven’t seen another house since I left Glass’. My
energy is waning fast. I know I need to rest, but the fear of getting
caught moves me forward. Without any idea of where I’m going I
try to keep my eye on the moon. I know in the spring it rises in the
east and sets in the west. I’ve been going away from the moon
until it was right above me and now I will travel toward it. That’s
how I know I will be traveling away from Glass’ house. I do
hope I run into some sort of civilization soon.

As much as I still wish
I were running faster my pace is slower the more tired I get. Now I’m
using the machete to lean on for support. It’s tempting to just
stop and rest, I could do that, I could rest.

“
Yes, my love,
you could stop and rest.
” The air goes colder as a voice
whispers and I feel a breath pass my ear.

Immediately I’m
frozen in place. Slowly I turn around looking for the source of the
voice. I see nothing and take a tentative step forward.

“
You’re
so tired, let me hold you.
” The oily voice sounds again.

“No, I can’t.
I have to get away from here.” I call out then put my hand over
my mouth realizing how loud I was.

“
I’ll
protect you while you rest, my love.
” The voice wafts
through my mind.

“Go away.”
I put my hand to my neck and realize the talisman is gone. Fuck. I
don’t need it. “Go away, Specter. I don’t want you,
just go away.”

There’s no
response. The chill that was in the air disappears. I’m
astounded that I actually silenced him. Of course I’m not
convinced that he’s gone, but I’ve got enough to worry
about between Glass, poisonous snakes and gators that I don’t
need to worry about him steering me off course.

The ground has gotten
softer, but the brush thicker. My pace picks up when I hear water. Oh
yes, flowing water means that I’m probably near the St. John’s
River. All I have to do is follow it north or south and I will
eventually hit a highway. It’s a good thing, since the moon has
disappeared below the horizon giving me no real compass to go by.

I follow the sound of
the river until I finally reach it. I’ve never been so happy to
see a body of water in my life. It doesn’t look like a fast
moving river, but I know there’s a current. I’ve been
swimming in the river many times. I also know there are gators and
water moccasins. The bank of the river is too thick with trees. I
either have to decide to go back until I can find a way through
heading north or south, or I need to climb through the thicket close
to the river. My sense of direction has never been that great and I
could lose sight of the river very easily.

The only option is to
climb through the thicket and hope for patches of bank that I can
walk along. My trek north is short-lived when I collapse on the river
bank. I can’t move, my body is unresponsive to my will to keep
moving. I’m lying at the foot of a patch of palmetto bushes
that I’m able to crawl the two feet under them to hide. I know
that Glass will come looking for me. I can get some rest here for
awhile, and then I can get moving again.

I hunker down, checking
that I’m well concealed. As I lay under the bushes I’m
brought back to the memory of the hundreds of times I played
hide-and-seek with Eli and Aiden. Being so small, I was able to hide
in the palmettos in the back yard near the canal. The smell of river
and the black silt dirt comforts me in the memory of how simple life
used to be. Sobs crash against my chest, rising from the depths of my
being. I’m trying to be quiet, but I just can’t control
it. Everything feels so hopeless. I gasp for deep cleansing breaths
trying to calm down, trying to regain silence so I don’t get
caught.

***

Dawn has blessed the
landscape with light and stolen the mystery from my surroundings. I
look at the cuts on my wrists; one of them is still wet with blood. I
can’t tell if it’s still bleeding or was opened again by
crawling up the bank or going through the woods. I eye the water,
wanting to wash the grime from my wounds. Knowing that they are going
to get infected, I would still prefer the polluted water over gritty
dirt. After I’ve gotten some rest I’ll climb down to the
water and wash my wounds.

***

When I awaken the sun
is high in the sky and even under the protection of the bush it’s
still warm. I test my legs to make sure they are still moving. I’m
in pain from head to toe, not having shoes on has taken its toll
running through the woods. I didn’t even think about it until
this moment. I was so consumed with fear and the drive to get as far
away from Glass as I possibly could that having bare feet never
occurred to me until now. They are bloody and cut and my ankles are
on fire where the rope and zip ties cut into my skin leaving deep
gashes. My wrists are in worse shape since I cut into them with the
knife while trying to get out.

Time to clean up and
get moving. Before I leave the safety of my hiding place I stop and
listen carefully for a solid three minutes. When I’m about to
crawl out I hear footfalls. I’m frozen in place. Fear paralyzes
me and my breathing becomes shallow and quiet. I don’t dare
move; if I do I could be seen. If I hold still I won’t attract
attention.

I can’t see who
it is. But why would anyone else be out here other than Glass looking
for me? My hands are trembling and I try to still them by wrapping
them around me. The footsteps stray further away slowly. Eli used to
pull that shit, walk away but really just be right around the corner.
There’s no way I’m coming out of this bush until I know
for sure he’s gone. I don’t know how long that will be.

There’s barely a
breath coming from me. It’s been quite a while since I’ve
heard anything other than the sound of the river, the birds and the
other animals that make the river bank their home. I try to peek out
to see if there’s anything there. There’s no movement or
indication that there’s anyone nearby. The sun is sitting lower
in the sky. My guess is that it’s been at least two hours since
someone walked past. When I decide it’s safe to leave my spot,
I can’t. My legs are so cramped up that it’s difficult to
move. With my hands I pull my left leg out from underneath me.

If I don’t get
out of here soon I’ll regret not having gotten down to the
water to clean up. Between being wet at nightfall and the creepy
crawlies on the bank, it can be a problem.

I check again for
anyone nearby. I crawl my way down to the water through the thick
vegetation. Cupping water in my hand to wash the dirt from my arms, I
rub and rub until the black dirt shows signs of thinning.

A stick breaks behind
me and I freeze. I don’t dare move or turn around. Everything
goes dark.

Eli

Carl
and Harry have gone to follow up on a lead over in Orlando. Harry’s
looking pretty rough, so I wasn’t comfortable with him going to
Orlando alone. I feel better knowing that Carl is driving.

This map is fucking
useless. It's an exercise designed to make us feel like we're doing
something, but we're just fooling ourselves. We haven't the first
clue where she could be. There are a few different versions and none
of them mean anything. We don’t know where the perp has taken
her, but having this map here is like a comfort for Harry, it helps
us all feel like we are contributing something. There's a commotion
coming from the back bedroom.

McNab rounds the corner
and stops short when he sees me. Trish is following so close behind
him she bumps into him. “Fuckin’-A, McNab.” She’s
panicked. “What was that call?”

“Eli.”
McNab’s choked up and looks scared as hell. He can't look me in
the eye.

“What is it?”
My entire being is bracing itself for the worst. Standing from the
stool, I absently put the highlighter on the island.

“We need to go.”
His voice is quiet and he looks like he just swallowed an ocean of
sorrow. “I’ll drive.”

“Okay, let me
get—” He cuts me off while walking across the room.

“No, we need to
go now.” McNab doesn't look at me, intently focused on the
door.

Bewildered, I follow
him. “Did they find her?”
If they did, why didn’t
they call me?

“What’s
happening? What about me? I’m supposed to just stay here?”
Trish’s voice is layered with fear chasing after us.

“Yes,”
McNab answers simply. “Miranda will be here soon, keep her
here.”

We get into McNab’s
rental and he’s already got the car in motion before I can
close the door. “Jesus, where’s the fire?” The
tires squeal as he pulls out onto the street. He takes the corners
sharp but with precision.

“Tell me what’s
going on,” I demand.

“They may have
found her,” he says simply in an even tone.

“What do you mean
by ‘may have’?”

He doesn’t
answer; he just looks straight ahead, driving with purpose. He’s
heading north and turns onto Sarno Road. “Where is she?”
My tone is harsh when I ask this time.

“The Sarno
Extension.”

A spike of pain cuts
through my soul, there’s nothing out there. Only the St. John’s
River, swamp and more swamp. “Oh God.” The whisper
carries the anguish in my heart out with it.

McNab doesn’t
respond at all. He just keeps driving and looking straight ahead. The
road turns to dirt and fear courses through me when the wheels
protest against the silt. McNab doesn’t slow down; he maintains
his speed and drives as far as the road will allow. He brings the car
to a stop and gets out.

Getting out of the car,
I ask, “Did they say where she is?”

He doesn’t turn
around or answer. He’s looking at his phone and just disappears
into the thicket of palm fronds. I chase after him, barely able to
keep up. It’s as though he evaporated into thin air when he
walked through the veil of vines and flowers.

I run through the swamp
trying to catch him. He's moving too fast, and I only steal glimpses
of his black t-shirt through the vegetation. He comes to a stop in a
clearing at the bank of the river.

There’s two men
in an airboat just off shore. I look to McNab. His face is drained of
all color, except for his eyes, which are ringed with a heavy red
outline. He's looking down the river bank with an absolute desolation
in his gaze. In that split second I'm filled with the deepest dread
I've ever felt, a dread that I know will live in my bones forever.

I follow his eyes down
the river bank to Shay. She’s washed up on the shore, with her
legs floating in the water.

Momentarily frozen and
muted by my thought process that doesn't want to continue, my mind
can't reconcile what I'm seeing. She is absolutely still, no
movement, no sound. There’s only the sound of McNab and I
breathing and the water gently lapping the shore. I scramble down the
bank and bend down, afraid to touch her. Her skin is a ghostly
alabaster and though she’s dirty and bruised she still has the
face of an angel.

“Eli.”
McNab whispers as though he’s trying not to disturb her
slumber. “You shouldn’t…”

I look up at him and
shake my head to keep him from speaking. Tenderly, I lift her into my
arms, and hold her cold, lifeless body close to mine. I just want to
feel near her, see her beautiful face that's now just a blur through
my tears. All I can think of is getting her away from here.