Silencing Joy (9 page)

When I walked back to the computer, all of my
pictures had loaded into a neat grid of thumbnails. I scanned them
quickly and practically choked on a cracker, coughing and gagging.
Will came downstairs.

“What’s the matter?”

I pointed at the screen while coughing
through cracker crumbs. I clicked a picture to full size. Will
leaned in over my shoulder.

“Holy shit!” he cursed.

The picture was of a play that I had really
zoomed in on. So much so, that you could see straight through to
under the bleachers on the other side of the stadium. You could
just make out through people’s sneakered feet...a face!

A girl with long hair. She appeared to have
something over her mouth. I clicked to zoom in on the picture until
we could see only a gagged, shadowed face. The image reminded me of
a horror movie. The way her eyes screamed with terror, but no
sound. Her head tilted in a struggling motion.

Will strode purposefully to the kitchen
counter to get his cell phone, and immediately made a call. I heard
only his end of the conversation.

“Sir,” he said loudly into the phone. “I have
a picture of a possible 207 at the game last Saturday night.”
(pause) “Yes sir.” (pause) “He has re-infiltrated the target’s
group.” (pause) “We’re working to keep the victim safe and trying
to reestablish integration.” (pause) “I realize that, Sir, but I am
out of the game.” (pause) “The media piece on my death made me
obsolete, Sir. This was the best course of action.”

I was trying to guess what his boss could
possibly be telling him during those pauses when the vase next to
the computer exploded into razor-sharp shards, scattering
everywhere.

In an instant, Will had his hand on the back
of my head, pushing down. I fell to the floor with him on top of me
as he covered my body with his. The computer above us blasted
apart. I screamed. Will crouched, taking my hand, and grabbed my
camera. We made our way across the floor as more furniture burst
into bits and debris flew through the air. I used my free hand to
cover my head.

At the fireplace, Will lifted a large stone
in front of the hearth. Underneath was a compartment filled with
guns, knives, and all sorts of weapons. He took out a rifle and
moved quickly, loading it and putting it down. A
click-click
sounded from the next weapon, a handgun.

A large backpack was nestled the right corner
of the hiding place. He swung it over his shoulder, handed me the
camera, and motioned for me to put it in the backpack.

With the handgun stuffed in his jeans, he
picked up the rifle again. Crawling, he moved towards the back door
and I followed nervously. The shooter must have had a silencer; you
couldn’t hear the actual shot, just the reverberation and slicing
echo the bullets made on impact. Will whispered to me when the
shots slowed.

“That’s a sniper. We’re going to try to go
out the back. Stay down.” He locked his eyes with mine, his face
holding a sad, shocked look.

I noticed the keys sitting on a table by the
side door near the kitchen. In this situation, the keys were a mile
away.

“Should we get the car keys?” I whispered in
a panic.

“No, let’s get out of here.”

We continued to shuffle and crawl to the back
door. Will held the rifle in a ready position and pointed for me to
sit over to the side. I did, realizing I had to trust that Will
knew what he was doing, because I sure didn’t. Therapy would
definitely need to be on my list of things to do after these days
of hell.

The shots dwindled down. I hadn’t heard one
in what seemed like a long while, although it was probably only a
minute or two. I realized how hard my lungs were pumping with
fearful breaths. It was painful.

I cast my eyes to Will who had his ear to the
bottom of the door as we both sat on the floor. I started to speak,
but he gave me the hand up, the universal symbol for “shut the hell
up.” I shushed. We waited for what felt like years. He turned to
me.

“See that window over there?” He pointed
across the room. “I’m going to smash it, then you are going to slip
through this door beside us and run. You got it? You’re going to
get up fast and run to the woods. No matter what happens, don’t
stop. I’ll be right behind you.”

I didn’t think it was possible for more fear
to fill me. The terrifying thought of running from the confines of
the house scared me into paralysis.
I couldn’t do it!
A lump
the size of a mountain took up residence in my throat. I looked
directly at him.

“I can’t,” I mouthed to him panic-stricken.
He clutched my arm hard and stared straight into my eyes.

“Yes, you can.” He positioned me in front of
the door and unlocked it. “Get ready,” he said in a harsh whisper
from behind me.

I heard the window shatter and more shots hit
inside the house. I swung open the door and ran. The sound of my
feet hitting the dirt reverberated, then the sound shifted from
pounding to crushing leaves and twigs.

It was only a few feet to the woods. Will
probably thought this was our best hope. I lifted my hands in front
of me as the forest thickened. Branches hit and scratched my face.
I held my hands in front of me to block the leaves and twigs that
jutted out in all directions. Even though it was fall, the forest
was still dense. I hoped I was running in the right direction.
Miraculously, it seemed, my feet keep moving mechanically.

I heard someone coming up behind me, and a
jolt of new panic hit. I started to turn around to face whatever
was coming.

“It’s me! Keep going!” Will called from
behind.

He caught up to me and took my hand, and we
ran, dodging trees, my lungs burning. The cool air mixed with my
fear.

Will slowed down, finally coming to a dead
stop. We both bent over, breathing hard, supporting our hands on
our legs.

“Thank God,” I coughed out between breaths.
“I don’t think I could have kept going.” A stitch formed in my
side. I clasped it. “Owww,” I whined. Will came over, panting, and
rubbed my side. The rifle and backpack were securely planted on his
back.

“What do we do now?” I asked through a scary
wheezing I had never experienced before.

“We need a place to hide out,” Will stated a
few inches from my face.

I turned away. He lifted my shirt to rub my
side some more. I flushed. His hands were cool, and it felt good on
my hot, cramped side.

“Thanks.” My breathing was short, scratchy,
pants. “I’m all set,” I blurted out, my chest heaving with every
word.

“You’re always ‘all set.’” Will said
cryptically. “We have to keep moving. Let’s go.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said,
jogging a little to keep up with his fast pace.

“Nothing. We need to figure out the closest
area other than Greenwich. That is the first place they’ll look for
us.”

“How did Tommy find us all the way out here?”
I asked. Will stopped and shifted to face me.

“Joy, that wasn’t Tommy or his group of
scumbags.”

“Who was it then?”

“I’m guessing someone my boss called.”

“What!?”

Will shook his head and continued to
walk.

“Derek and I were suspicious when no one came
to get you. We reported your situation the next morning. Procedure
is that a cop is sent to check on you, and you give a statement.
Derek had to stay with Tommy. I told Derek you were okay after you
dropped me off.” He sighed as if uttering all that was a chore.
“The plan was for me to
bait
Tommy by ticking him off. We
know his ‘procedure’ is to beat the shit out of people. Faking my
death was supposed to rile and flush him out. And it has. You
weren’t supposed to be there. When a victim turns into a witness,
next thing is that an agent of the FBI takes you to a safe house
until the case is secured. That part didn’t happen.” His scrubbed
his face, hard, in frustration. “Derek reported the situation. He
filled out the paperwork and everything. After you were located and
secured, the fake report of my death was to be released. The whole
thing went to
hell.
Derek and I discussed it; he said he
would go check to make sure someone had gotten you. The paperwork
was gone. No one had it. He called you, waited until dark and
picked you up.” He paused. “I don’t have any choice now but to
think that this is internal corruption within the bureau.” Will’s
eyes expressed betrayal. “I now think that Tommy could be working
for a much higher-up smuggling cell...one that is right in my
office.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Maybe there was
an error with my situation. Maybe the shooter is from Tommy. Maybe
he found us.”

Will paused before responding. “Joy, Tommy is
just a flunky. I know that now. He’s muscle and intimidation with a
little bit of smarts. There is something much bigger going on here.
I think the picture you took of that girl is what set it everything
off.”

We walked quietly while chewing on this new
information. The more I thought about it, Will was probably right.
He knew more about this stuff than I did. This was his job. This
betrayal of his boss must have stung. I had no idea what to say to
him or how to comfort him. This was someone he trusted and took
orders from.
How deep does the treachery go?

Will stopped and took a map and compass out
of the backpack. He gauged our area and attempted to establish our
location.

I saw my camera peeking out of the bag and
took it out, using the lens to focus on my surroundings. I mulled
over yesterday and my thoughts about the beauty of the world. I
snapped a few pictures of the woods. The colors and hues appeared
mesmerizing and ominous at the same time.

Swinging the camera towards Will, I captured
his image in the view finder. He was handsome in a rugged sort of
way. His features were healing up nicely, and his hair was tousled
from the wind, the brown locks tossed around. My appraisal caused a
little fluttering in my stomach, but I continued to watch him
figure out which way to go next. He was engrossed in the map, and
it surprised me when he spoke.

“Joy, what are you doing?”

I took a few pictures of him. The corners of
his mouth lifted up on his profile, and I snapped some more.

“Nothing,” I said smiling mischievously. I
went back to taking pictures of the landscape.

“You don’t look at me for two days. Now, in
the middle of nowhere, running for our lives, you’re taking
pictures of me like we’re on a leisurely hike?”

I smirked and knelt down on the ground to put
the camera gently back in the pack.

“We need to head northeast,” Will said,
folding up the map. He squatted down on the other side of the pack
to put it in. “There is a town about fifteen miles from here called
Sydney. We can walk through the woods to get most of the way
there.” He peered up at me, catching me staring. I quickly flicked
my eyes away from him and stood up.

“We won’t make it anywhere before it gets
dark. It’s going to be dark in an hour,” I commented.

“I know, we’re going to have to go for as
long as we can then sleep and continue in the morning. I want to
get farther away.”

We walked for another hour and a half. Will
had a small flashlight, but the light was barely enough for us to
see two feet in front of us. Will checked the compass occasionally
to make sure we were on the right track. The air was getting cold
again. I shivered as Will pulled a bunch of stuff out of the
backpack.

“Here, hold this.”

He gave me the mini-flashlight to hold so he
could see into the pack. He wrenched out a sleeping bag and a thin
blanket. In the side pocket, he found a couple of granola bars.

“The sleeping bag is Gore-Tex, so it should
keep you nice and warm.”

“You’re just going to use that little
blanket!?” I asked disbelievingly.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Here eat this.” He
handed me a granola bar that I nibbled on while Will set up a
makeshift camp. “Kick off your shoes and climb in.” I did what he
said and settled myself inside the sleeping bag. He zipped me up,
making exaggerated movements of tucking me in like a little kid. I
giggled. “There you go. Are you nice and toasty?”

“Yeah, thanks,” I answered softly. He moved
the pack and rifle next to him, then sat up and wrapped the blanket
around his shoulders.

“Will?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you think happened to that girl in
the picture? Who do you think she is?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe she was one of
the
cargo
.”

“Cargo?”

“Yeah, that’s what it’s called, whether it’s
drugs or people. It’s called cargo.”

“That’s terrible.” I had a bad feeling in the
pit of my stomach. Lying down with my body starting to relax, the
horrible image from my camera came to my mind.
Who was she?
“I bet the FBI has some great equipment for deciphering pictures.
I’m sure that the picture could be cleared up, and we could see her
face.”

“That’s an idea,” Will sighed. “The only
thing is I’m not really sure who to trust right now. Maybe a good
night’s sleep will clear my head.”

Will apparently planned on sleeping sitting
up with a little blanket on him. This guy had been through a lot.
He couldn’t be comfortable.

“Will?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to share the sleeping bag? I
mean...it can’t be comfortable where you are.” There was a long
pause.

“That’s not a good idea. You might have to
look at me.” He smiled, making me laugh.

“Nah. It’s too dark. I can’t really see you,”
I jested.

Will shuffled around, laid the rifle next to
me, and removed his shoes. He handed me the blanket.

“Put this inside the sleeping bag too. It
will get damp with the morning dew. The Gore-Tex shouldn’t.”