Trapped with the Blizzard (33 page)

I groaned. “The basement is warmer than up here. Is he still bitching about the heat?”

“He didn’t say. Just wanted to talk to you,” Chris replied. His tongue darted out to lick his thin lips.

I found Bryan across the room again and shook my head. In the two seconds since we’d spoken, he’d already gotten hooked into helping a family with their sleeping bags. “All right, I’ll deal with it. Can you come with me for safety?”

“Sure, boss. Whatever you want.”

Shutting the door behind us, we made our way downstairs. Nearly at the very spot where we’d caught the guy, Chris stopped and shined the flashlight up.

“I almost forgot. I’ve been meaning to swap out our radios. The batteries are nearly dead and we got fresh ones…”

Already impatient, I handed him my radio and pushed on. “Fine, cool. Just get it to me when you can.”

Outside the broom closet, I held the flashlight as Chris fumbled with the keys. With a tiny tickle of apprehension, I realized it felt weird because Gary was so quiet. Normally when we came down to deliver food or blankets, he’d be pounding on the door, screaming to be let out. This time, he was silent.

Maybe he’s not feeling well,
I wondered, searching for an explanation.

The lock clicked, and Chris swung the door open. I shined the light inside and didn’t immediately see Gary anywhere in the room. Every muscle tense and waiting for an attack, I tried to reassure myself that Chris was there, too. Plus, Bryan was upstairs along with, you know, the whole town. I was pretty well backed up.

“Gary? You wanted to see me?” I called out as I moved into the threshold.

I panned the light across the tiny room and located him in the far corner to the right. He sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and shielded his eyes from the light.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked again as I stepped inside. “Was he like this when you found him?” I asked Chris.

He leaned forward to see around the corner, holding himself steady with a hand on the doorframe. The sleeve of his shirt slipped down and I saw a dozen horribly deep, scabbed scratches disappearing up his arm. Although I was hesitant to, I pulled the light from Gary on the floor so I could study the wounds better.

I grabbed his other arm and yanked the sleeve up as high as I could, revealing another set of scratches. My heart thudded in my chest as I looked up to meet his eye and I knew instantly. He’d attacked Miah… these were the defensive wounds Melinda had talked about. Chris must’ve seen the realization on my face, his own expression turning stony.

A hard shove to my shoulder rocked me forward. Without letting go of the flashlight, I slammed onto my hands and knees with a cry. I didn’t even have a chance to recover before Chris slammed the door shut behind.

I launched to my feet and tested the doorknob, knowing full well it’d be locked. I pounded my fists against the door. “What the fuck? Chris! Goddamnit, what are you doing?”

There was no answer from the other side. My hand instinctively slipped down to my pocket for the radio, which of course, I found empty.

“That fucker!” I screamed.

A low, quiet chuckle reminded me I wasn’t alone in the room. I panned the light over to Gary who still hadn’t moved an inch.

“Don’t feel good, does it?” he asked with a toothy grin.

I bit my tongue. Taking a few steps back, I trained the light on the door and tried to think. Every thought was punctuated with a deep, maternal scream.

Jack!

I couldn’t focus. Without knowing he was safe, every attempt at figuring out how to get out of this room was met with a gut panic.

Why me? Why leave Bryan upstairs? God, my baby… Why is he doing this at all? Chris was the arsonist all along! If Jack is safe, then it doesn’t matter what happens to me…

Nothing added up. Nothing. And with a start, I remembered the baby monitor in my coat pocket.

I dropped to my knees and held the flashlight with my thighs. I scrambled through my pockets, pulled out the small monitor, and pressed the call button.

“Come on, come on,” I whispered as I watched the low battery light flicker on. “Bryan! Are you there? Bryan, oh, please pick up.”

I held the monitor to my ear, but heard nothing, even after several tries. Figuring he was well out of range, I collapsed against the wall and fought the encroaching panic. The only way to get out of this situation was to remain calm and clear-headed. With a few soothing breaths, I tried to focus.

“Aw, cheer up, doll. It’s not so bad down here.”

“Shut the hell up, Gary,” I muttered.

Only a few minutes could’ve passed from when Chris shoved me in to when I heard the door at the end of the hallway squeak. I jumped to my feet and readied myself. Whatever happened, I was rushing for that door with all my strength and speed.

Click
.

It was a sound you only had to hear once.

“Not a move. Not a word,” whispered Gary. His voice sent a chill down my back and I knew without looking, there was a gun trained on me. “You do anything and I’ll kill you right here and now, you get me? Turn off the goddamn light.”

I nodded as my thumb switched off the flashlight. My heart lurched when I heard Bryan’s voice outside the door, talking with Chris. This situation was looking bleaker by the second. Time slowed, as it does in moments like this. All in slow motion, the key slipped into the lock, the light from outside shifted under the door, and Bryan appeared in the doorway.

His light trained on me first, standing directly opposite the opening. “What the fu…” was the only thing he got out.

Chris brought both his fists down on Bryan’s neck, a hammering blow that knocked him to his knees. I screamed and rushed forward just as Chris booted him with a swift kick to the ass. He slammed the door shut just as my fingers came within inches of grabbing it. I cried out in frustration as I crawled back to Bryan.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I asked as I helped him to his feet. I switched on the flashlight, figuring that if the jerkwad in the corner with the gun had a problem, he’d tell me.

Bryan’s eyes immediately landed on the glint of the gunmetal in Gary’s hands. “Liz, what the hell is going on?”

I looped my arm under his and lifted him up. “I have no idea,” I whispered. I was simultaneously glad to have him with me and terrified because it meant Jack was left upstairs with Walt or Dani. Bryan cupped my face in his hands, and pushed my hair back.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you or anything?”

“Nothing worse than what he did to you. What do you think he’s planning?” I asked, unable to hide the tremor from my voice.

“Ah,” Gary finally said. He cleared his throat as he awkwardly climbed to his feet. “That’s where I come in. I’m supposed to give you this.” With the handgun still trained on me, he reached across his chest to the inside pocket. Withdrawing a folded paper, he walked close enough to hand it to Bryan. “You’re supposed to read this out loud.”

Bryan’s jaw clenched as he took the paper. He didn’t want to drop his gaze from the old man long enough to read it.

“You read it or I shoot her,” Gary said. He sounded bored with the whole thing, as if holding my life in his hands happened every day.

Bryan unfolded the paper and gestured for me to shine the light closer. From over his shoulder, I could read the handwriting. The light in my hand wobbled before he could speak. It looked just like the arsonist’s letters… as if I had any doubt before this.

“Fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth.” He took a ragged breath before finishing. “A son for a son.” He crumpled the paper and dropped it to the floor. “What? What now?”

Gary grinned. “Now I shoot you.”

“All of this just to kill us in cold blood?” I gasped.

“No, not both of you. Him. You’re meant to stay alive so you can watch what comes next. But more importantly, I get to get the fuck out of here.” That psychopathic tone chilled me to the very core.

Bryan and I had been in so many stressful, life-balancing-on-the-edge-of-a-knife moments that I honestly think we’ve developed a telepathic form of communication. We both knew, instantly, that we had to rush this asshole before he could squeeze off a shot. Without any outward signal, we charged at Gary full force. I went for his knees while Bryan rushed for the gun.

Just before I tackled him, I saw Bryan put his hand over the muzzle of the gun, pushing the slide back and effectively preventing Gary from firing. A sickening
crack
filled the small room as the old man’s hip connected with the hard concrete. Momentum carried me under his legs with the bulk of his body falling under Bryan. I recovered quickly, shone the flashlight around the room, and was horrified to see the two of them struggling for control over the gun.

Grunting with exertion, Bryan fought to pry the weapon from the old man’s fingers without exposing himself to a direct shot. One by one, he peeled his fingers away until he was able to strip it from his grip. He rocked back and landed on his ass at my feet. With the weapon pointed at the crippled old man, I helped him to his feet.

“Give me your other gun,” I said, holding out my hand to Bryan.

“I don’t have it,” he replied tightly.

I tore my gaze away. “What do you mean you… please tell me it’s locked up in your desk.”

His jaw clenched. “I gave it to Chris when we were looking for Miah.” He looked like he was about to rage but quickly got control. “Stupid.”

Shit. Fucking figures.
“What do we do now?”

Bryan fiercely grabbed my arm and pulled my ear to his mouth. Not for one second did he take his eyes from Gary, who was now alternating between laughing and crying. “Whatever comes next is only going to happen after he shoots me. So someone out there is waiting for the shot… and your scream.”

My throat tightened. “Bry…”

His features hardened as he adjusted his grip on the gun. “Scream.”

It wasn’t the first time I’d been trapped in a tiny room when a gun went off, but I hope it’s the last. The flash of the gun, the acrid scent of gunpowder, the deafening ring in my ears. I was in such shock that I didn’t immediately follow Bryan’s command. It was only until he squeezed my arm, the cry loosened from my throat.

I moved the beam of light away from the body, thankful that it’d at least been a quick death. Bryan ducked behind me and awkwardly crouched in the corner. I faced the door, the flashlight trembling in my hand. He brought the gun up by my side, just under the light so Chris couldn’t see it when he entered.

“When the fucker comes in, I’m just gonna shoot,” he whispered. “Keep screaming.”

I bawled his name again, really trying to sell the anguish. “What’s going to happen next?” I asked softly.

A key slipped into the door. The knob turned. A man walked in. Not Chris. My heart stopped.

I thought I had known horror. The things I’d been through in my life, looking death right in the eye and walking away more than once… it all paled in comparison to what I was confronted with.

This man had my baby in his arm and a gun only inches from his head. A choked sound came from my throat. My vision tunneled, the sides closing in until the only thing I could see was the weapon and my sleeping child. My knees gave out, and I caught myself on the edge of a metal cabinet. The sudden movement startled him.

“Don’t you dare come closer, Liz,” he said, brandishing the gun towards us. He glanced to the body on the ground and his expression changed. “Ah, guess it didn’t go exactly as I’d planned.”

Bryan had his hand on me as he rose. I’m not sure if it was to hold me back or to keep himself rooted. When he spoke, I didn’t recognize his voice at all. It was so dark and full of venom. “Give me my son.”

The man holding Jack laughed maniacally. “Straight to the point, huh? No wonder you’re such a savvy businessman. But I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible unless you have some way of giving me my son back.”

I looked at him closer, picking apart the details. He wore expensive snow gear, a jacket that easily cost a few hundred dollars. His refined way of speaking… that he knew us by name.
A son for a son…
After a moment, I realized I recognized him. Thirty pounds heavier, a graying beard, but it was definitely him.

“Mr. Richards…”