Dark Visions (8 page)

"We talked on the phone earlier today. She
called before Sarah arrived home in a police car."

"What did she want?"

"She told me some interesting things. She
said Sarah writes prophecies in her notebook. Then she goes out and
saves people. Apparently Mary is someone Sarah saved from being
kidnapped six months ago."

"We can't be this far out of the loop. Are
you talking about our Sarah?"

Amelia nodded. "Come to think of it, Sarah
said she was going to meet Mary, or something like that, when she
ran out."

"This is unbelievable. Did you ask Sarah
about what Mary said? Where's her notebook?"

"Sarah said she lost it. The phone rang when
we were in her bedroom looking for it. It was the guy from the
fair. Right after that, she left."

"Do you have Mary's phone number?"

"I think so. It should be on call
display."

"I'm going to call her and straighten this
out right now."

Chapter 15

Sarah woke up to darkness. She realized
quite fast she was in the trunk of a car. A soft red glow eased
through the darkness, showing her where the taillights were.

She tried to move her hands but couldn't.
Pain heightened around the area of her wrists when she moved them.
She also felt numbness. Her head pounded from the area where the
hair was pulled out.

She tried to swish her feet back and forth,
but her ankles were bound and numb too. When her head moved she
felt the dried and crusty blood on the back of her neck.

Then she opened her mouth to scream. Her
captor was stupid, she thought. He didn't gag her.

"Help!" She yelled. She could tell it
wouldn't be heard too well outside the trunk of a moving car. She
started to feel her lungs starving. Panting and gasping for air,
she struggled harder and tried to scream again. Nothing much higher
than a nasal screech came out.

Rapid breaths from her nose weren't enough
to sate her lungs. She started to feel light headed.

What did I get myself into?
The
reality of the situation hit her like a head-on collision. She was
tied up in a trunk. A victim of a kidnapper, or worse. And she'd
just killed someone.

Deeper breathing was keeping her awake. She
had to stay alert. The weight of the situation felt too heavy to
carry.

The car hit a bump in the road. Her shoulder
flared up in pain making her wince.

She wished she could pull. Find some hair in
a sensitive spot and drag it out slowly. That would help to calm
her down. She needed to get untied so she could pull.

The engine started to wind down. Either he
was approaching a traffic light or he was stopping the car.

A bead of sweat rolled into her eye. She
clenched her eyelid closed and shook her head. A mild headache
flared.

It sounded like gravel crunching under the
tires moments before it stopped. She struggled to hold her breath
so she could listen to sounds from the outside.

The car door opened. She felt the weight
adjust as the driver got out. Her heart beat a rhythm in her ear
canal.

The trunk lid popped open. It remained an
inch above the lock until fingers slid through the crack and lifted
it.

She didn't know what to expect. Would he
shoot her in the trunk?

What she didn't expect was the flashlight.
The man standing there flicked one on, instantly blinding her.

"Never try to scream from the trunk again.
There are many ways to die. You don't want the messy, painful
ones."

Then a flash of lightning flared in her head
when she felt something like a brick hit her. The pain was almost
unbearable. Her whole face was on fire now. She couldn't help it.
She screamed in retaliation of the pain.

The other side of her face had bumped the
bottom of the trunk when the force of whatever hit her drove it
down. She had never known such pain in all her eighteen years.

A coppery taste was in her mouth. The taste
of blood. She opened her eyes. They still worked. Things would look
different if an eye socket or cheek bone were broken.

"Rules. That's one thing my brother taught
me. Follow the rules."

Rough hands grabbed her shirt and lifted her
up a little. Her arms and legs screamed in protest. She couldn't
suppress the moans that found their way out her throat.

His face was less than a foot from hers
now.

"I've broken a few rules for you already
today. You weren't the intended target. So I expect you to follow
the rules I set. Rule number one; no screaming. The next time you
scream for anybody, I'll teach you what screaming really is."

He shoved her backwards. Her head smacked
the back of the open trunk lid right where he'd removed the clump
of hair. She landed awkwardly on her arms, twisting her left elbow.
By the time she could think to right herself, he'd shut the trunk
lid.

In that moment, with the pain coursing
through every nerve, an odd thought struck her; what was rule
number two?

She could hear a cell phone ringing. Through
the thin metal of the trunk she heard him answer it.

"Hello."

Then a pause. She waited, straining to hear
more.

"Matt's dead...I know, but I got that girl
from six months ago...I have no idea why she was there...this is so
fucked up...what am I going to do without Matt. I've never done
this alone."

She heard his voice decrease in volume. He
was moving away from her.

"That's just it...where do you want me to
dump her body?"

Then he was too far away.

She curled into a ball and wept.

The car door slammed shut moments later and
they were moving again.

Sarah cried in the darkness until she fell
asleep. The pain took forever to let up, the adrenaline eased its
way out of her system.

She found the danger Esmerelda had warned
her about.

Chapter 16

Denise Hall ordered a glass of brandy. She
wanted her nerves rested for this meeting. She sat at the bar of an
American version of a pub. This one reeked like the cook hadn't
cleaned a thing in months.

She looked around at the half empty pub and
thought about all the deals she had done in the past. This one was
going to be her biggest sale to her richest and most notorious
contact.

She lifted her sleeve back and read the
time. The pub would be closing soon. She was thirty minutes early
for the meeting. Good. You didn't want to be late for Mr. Ward.
Everyone in the State knew that.

Her stomach moved around at the smell of
greasy food. Something unidentifiable was burning on the stove in
the back. She took a deep swig of her drink.

The front door opened and two large men
dressed in suits and matching crew cuts, entered the pub. They
looked around until both pairs of eyes stopped on Denise. Then they
continued scanning the small restaurant.

A waitress approached them only to be waved
off.

Denise took another long sip and watched the
men who had taken a position on either side of the door. It looked
rather odd; two sentries guarding the inside of a restaurant.

She smirked at the thought of how nervous
she was. She had dealt with Mr. Ward on a number of other
arrangements in the past. She knew she was safe. Why would this
sale be any different? She also understood the routine. If she
wanted to sell to him she had to play along.

She didn't have to like it, just play
along.

He was the kind of man who pitied the mob
and they knew it.

Or maybe she was being too kind, she
thought. He was short, no more than five feet tall, with a large
net worth. The kind that required better security than the
President.

Sometimes Denise wondered about the ethics
of what she was doing. And sometimes she wondered about people in
India. Who cared about everyone else? Look out for number one and
in the end you die. Nothing else to worry about. Maybe that was why
she didn't talk to her mother anymore.

She took another drink from her glass as one
of the men at the door responded to a cell phone. He put it away
and nodded to the other. They broke from sentry duty and walked to
Denise's table.

"Come with us," the taller one grunted.

It was always the same.

"Let me finish my drink."

"Now. Stand."

Again, just like before. She wouldn't let
them take her dignity. It was only a business transaction. She put
the glass to her lips.

One of the men reached under her arm, half
lifting her to her feet. She was hustled to the door and taken
outside to the cool early July morning, her drink in hand.

Mr. Ward's car was not there. No surprise.
The trio turned right and then into an alleyway. Another larger man
stood in front of a back door of what looked like a Chinese
restaurant. They hustled her in and down a dark set of stairs.
So Hollywood
, she thought.

They entered a dank basement. Single bulbs
hung with strings attached. Either the walls were painted black and
were decaying after years of moisture or they were covered in mold.
It was too dim to see for sure.

Mr. Ward sat behind a table near the far
wall. He was alone, watching her approach. If she hadn't dealt with
him before, this would be quite intimidating. Even so, she felt
fear creep along her nerve endings.

"Sit," he said, gesturing with his hand to
the wooden grade school chair in front of the table.

The apes on each side of her fell away and
she once again had full use of her feet. She set the brandy glass
on the table.

"Do you have the package?" Mr. Ward
asked.

He was one of those men who always talked
with a smile. Like he was the only one who knew the inside
joke.

"I got confirmation earlier. That's why I
called to meet you."

He stared at her through sunglasses so dark
she couldn't see his eyes.

Denise thought the tough guy thing was an
act. He had to keep his employees remembering who the boss was.

"How am I to expect delivery?"

"I'm having a discrete location renovated to
keep your package safe. The renovations will be done today and the
package will be arriving there tomorrow. I'll call then and set up
the arrangements."

"The money will be wired to an account of
your choice. When you call with the package location, tell my men
where you want the money. Once I confirm possession of the package,
the money will transfer, as usual."

Denise nodded. Same routine. She knew this
meeting was a formality. She stood up to go. Anything to get off
the hard wooden school chair.

"May I go now?" she asked.

Mr. Ward nodded.

She turned and started to walk, this time
unaided by the gorillas that helped her to the meeting. When she
reached the stairs, she looked back at Mr. Ward. He hadn't moved an
inch.

"I wanted to say that this package is
different. It's caused me a lot of trouble. This one is a real
piece of work. I hope you're going to be happy."

"I'll worry about my emotions," Mr. Ward
said with his trademark smile.

Denise headed up the stairs, trailing the
smell of chicken fried rice, her stomach in knots.

Chapter 17

The sound and rhythm of the car had a
soothing quality. Every breath she took, every second that went by
was another second she was alive.

She knew the driver recognized her from
Mary's kidnapping. She also suspected that was the reason she
wasn't dead yet. He would want to find out why she had shown up
twice.
He would probably try to extract this information through
violence
, she thought.
I don't want to think about things
like that though. I'll deal with whatever comes as it
happens.

The engine slowed. She could feel the brakes
being applied. The car turned onto a gravel road as her bladder was
about to burst. Rocks careened off the wheel well by her head. The
car turned again and came to a stop. Then silence.

She had no idea where they were. He could
very well open the trunk, pull her out, shoot her in the face and
throw her body behind a tree. She squeezed her eyes shut.
Can't
keep thinking like that
, she chided herself.

The trunk lid sprung open. With caution, she
opened her eyes. It was dark outside. She could see a solitary
light as high as one found on any city street.

Rough hands gripped her under the shoulders.
She was yanked from the trunk and dropped on the gravel. The sting
was intense. Her arms and legs felt rubbery. She just wanted to lie
there and rest with a morphine drip attached to her.

She saw the glint of a blade. Before she
realized he had a knife, its arc came swift.

Her ankles fell apart. She twisted her head
away as he came toward her face. She felt a slight tug and then her
hands dropped apart.

The driver walked away. She followed his
footsteps with her gaze. He got to the front of a cabin, fidgeted
with the door and opened it. He flicked a light on inside the
building and turned to face her from the porch.

"If you're thinking about running, there's
no place to go. Scream if you like, no one will hear you. Although,
I wouldn't because that would defy rule number one. We're miles
away from civilization."

Sarah got a feeling he was enjoying himself.
Something had changed. He was grinning.

"You should make yourself comfortable while
you still can. There isn't much time for you left."

If he wanted to kill her he would have done
it right away. He would have dumped the body and been done with it.
Keeping a hostage requires a lot more work.

"I'll give you one minute to get in here,"
he said and then disappeared into the cabin.

She looked around and saw trees surrounding
the area. She eyed the road. It turned away from her and was lost
in darkness. Off in the distance she could hear what sounded like
transport trucks on a highway.