Authors: Jonas Saul
Tags: #paranormal, #suspense action, #crime action, #automatic writer
She looked back at the cabin. He was
watching her from a window to the right of the door.
She tried to get to her feet. They worked,
but with protest. She stood with the support of the car. The effort
caused pain to flare up in her face where he had hit her.
She knew she couldn't outrun him. He was
watching her and she was sure his minute deadline was looming. No
point in testing him so early.
She started for the cabin door. How could
the precognition be so wrong? Why was she here?
She knew she was eighteen, but she felt
small and needy.
After all the people she had saved, who was
coming to save her?
Chapter 18
"I can't get an answer. No one's picking up
the phone," Amelia said as she replaced the receiver. "It's been an
hour since we got the text."
Caleb got up and grabbed his cell. He
flipped open the cover and started pressing buttons.
"What're you doing?"
"Why didn't I think of it before? I don't
know how I missed it. When we sent those replies to the phone where
the text came from, asking them to call us, I forgot that it's
another cell phone. Whoever sent us that message used a cell that I
can call."
Caleb's thumb worked the tiny keys. "There,
got it."
Caleb felt his wife watching him as he
lifted the phone to his ear. They both waited. He looked at her and
shook his head back and forth.
"Machine". He dropped the phone from his
ear. "Dead end."
"Well, what do we do now?" Amelia asked. She
rubbed her hands together as if she was putting lotion on them. "I
can't sit around. Sarah isn't home and its past midnight." She
stood up and grabbed the phone again. "I'm calling the police. I
don't care what they're going to say."
Caleb didn't try to stop her.
The phone rang in her hand. She jumped and
swung her head to look at Caleb. He motioned for her to answer it.
She shook her head and handed the phone to him.
"Hello?"
"My name is Jack Bennett. I'm sorry if I've
disturbed you at such an hour. I'm calling every number on my
daughter's phone to see if I can find her."
"You mean your daughter's missing?" Caleb
asked.
"She's out past her curfew. Actually, she
was home, but has snuck out of her bedroom. I'm calling around to
see if anyone who knows her would tell me where she may be."
"What's your daughter's name?"
"Mary Bennett. Have you spoken to her? Do
you have a daughter who would know where she is?"
Caleb talked with Jack for a few minutes. It
was assumed that both girls were probably together. Something all
teenagers did, and since the police told Mr. Bennett he couldn't
file a missing persons report yet, they all decided to wait until
the morning. It was agreed that if one of the daughters contacted
any of them, they would phone each other.
Caleb said goodbye and hung up. He forgot to
ask why Jack hadn't picked up the phone when they'd called his
number over the last hour.
Caleb tried to talk Amelia into resting on
the bed. She refused to go to sleep with her daughter still out.
Instead she turned on the television and sat staring at it. Caleb
figured she wasn't really tuning in to the retro game show blaring
out how to win ten thousand dollars.
A half hour later he stepped into the living
room to find her asleep sitting up, her head dangling to the
side.
He'd been waiting for her to fall asleep. He
had a phone call he wanted to make in private. A certain someone
who would know where Sarah might be.
He made his way to the basement, and dialed
the number he had in his cell memory.
Chapter 19
Esmerelda rolled off and knelt down beside
her bed. She glared along the narrow hallway of her trailer.
She was sure she heard something; a knock or
a bang of some kind.
Then it came again. A soft rapping on the
trailer door. A man whispered her name. She looked over at the
digital alarm clock.
It read 3:14am.
Who would be at her door at this hour?
She walked down the hall until she reached a
window, parted the curtains and looked out. She felt reasonably
sure whoever was standing outside wouldn't see her because she
didn't have any lights on.
It was the security guard from the gate. He
had a teenage girl with him.
He knocked again.
Esmerelda walked to the door and opened it.
"Are you aware of the hour?"
"I know and I'm sorry to bother you. It's
just, this girl." The guard turned and Esmerelda could hear him ask
what her name was again. "Mary, here, says that she has information
for you about your daughter. She says it's urgent."
Esmerelda looked past the guard and into
Mary's eyes. "How do you know my daughter?"
"I don't know her. I just have something to
tell you about her."
"Okay, like what?"
"Maybe we should talk in your trailer."
Esmerelda shook her head. "You can't come
here at this hour, get me to let you into my trailer just to tell
me where my daughter may be living or some other trivial piece of
information. Whatever you have to say, you can say it out
here."
"Sarah sent me. She's the one who told me to
come to you about Denise Hall, your daughter."
Esmerelda stepped back. Her fingers gripped
the door frame. No one even knew her daughter's name. After their
falling out when her husband died, she stopped talking about Denise
to anyone. It pained her too much to discuss the love of her life
and how it had been destroyed. Most of her current friends weren't
aware she even had a daughter.
The security guard turned to Mary. "Wait a
second. You don't mean the same Sarah who broke in here this
afternoon, do you?"
"I wouldn't know anything about that," Mary
shook her head.
Esmerelda cut in. "It's okay." She edged
past the guard and gripped Mary's arm. "Come in inside so we can
talk."
Before shutting the trailer door, she
thanked the security guard and bade him good night.
Esmerelda motioned for Mary to take a seat.
She flicked on a table lamp beside the couch and looked back at her
guest.
"Can I get you anything?"
"No, thank you."
Esmerelda came around and sat in her
armchair, opposite Mary. "Where do you want to start?"
"I think Sarah is in trouble."
Esmeralda tried to rub the sleep from her
eyes. "I know that. I tried to warn her when she came to see
me."
"It's not just her though. She said that
Denise might get hurt too."
Esmerelda sat back and raised a hand to her
lips where she absently started nibbling on a nail. "How would she
know about Denise? How could my daughter be involved with
Sarah?"
"I'm not exactly sure how it works. All I
know is she gets told things about people. It's usually bad stuff.
Things she has a chance to avert. Like when I met her. She saved me
from being kidnapped."
Esmerelda sprung forward. "She saved you?
Are you saying she gets these messages and changes the future? She
actually does something about it. That could be risky, even
dangerous."
Mary went on to tell her about how Sarah
intervened six months ago and saved her from a certain kidnapping.
How she offered Sarah her phone number, with a promise to repay her
in any way. But Sarah didn't use the number until yesterday when
she called for help.
"Sarah was on her way to stop another
kidnapping tonight. She knew it would be late before she got home
and wondered if I would text her parents saying she was sleeping
over. That way she could return home after midnight and say to her
mom that we fought so she decided not to stay out."
"Did you send the text?"
Mary nodded her head.
Esmerelda got up and grabbed the hands free
phone. "We have to call the police. We've got to tell them what we
know."
"Wait, no. Sarah asked explicitly to not get
the police involved."
Esmerelda's thumb hovered. "Why? They're
already investigating a hit and run on Birk Street. A witness said
it was Sarah Roberts who drove the car."
"How do you know that?"
"It was on the news a few hours ago."
"Sarah said she wouldn't be as effective if
everyone knew who she was. She said that helping people had given
her purpose after a number of years of depression. She doesn't want
to stop."
"Wow, she told you a lot."
"She admitted that. She said she never
really trusted anyone before, but recently felt nervous for her own
safety. She said you might be able to help. She also told me to
tell you that Denise is your daughter and she will be shot if not
today, it'll be tomorrow."
"That's it. I'm calling the police."
Chapter 20
Sarah stirred to consciousness. Everything
ached. Her wrists and ankles were shackled to a heavy iron bed
frame in one of the two rooms of the cabin. She'd spent the night
falling in and out of sleep on the hard wood floor.
Sunlight streamed through the old storm
window of the room, blinding her. She guessed the time to be around
6:00am.
She cocked an ear but heard nothing. The
cabin sat silent. She shifted and moved but couldn't find a level
of comfort.
In the corner by the window sat an old
looking desk and a wooden chair. On top of the desk was a small
stack of paperback books. She leaned forward and slid the handcuffs
up the iron rod to the top. This allowed her to be in a kneeling
position about waist high.
She looked at the storm window. Outside, she
saw barren grass for about a hundred yards and then a wall of
trees.
Something sparkling in the sunlight on the
window ledge caught her eye. She pushed herself a little harder
against her restraints to get a better look. She saw the edge of a
screwdriver. A couple of screws lay beside it. She looked to the
left and saw fresh screws at the base of the wooden window.
Then she understood. Her captor planned on
keeping his intended victim here. He hadn't just nailed the windows
shut, he'd screwed them down.
She needed to get her hands on that
screwdriver.
The strain on her wrists was becoming more
than she could bear. She dropped back to her knees and rolled onto
her side.
The door to her room banged open.
"What're you doing?"
Sarah looked up at him but didn't speak. He
was unshaven and had bloodshot eyes. It looked like he was going
through something internally that was driving him mad. She would
swear he looked rabid.
"You think you're smart, don't you? You're
in here moving around, trying to get those restraints undone. Well,
let me help you."
He rushed over, dropped down and produced a
key. In seconds, Sarah was free. She scampered on her butt up
against the wall by the window. She wanted to show fear. She also
wanted to grab the screwdriver when he turned his back. Maybe he'd
give her enough time to drive it
into
his back.
"I undid you so you can come out, use the
bathroom and eat. Then you're tied up and in the trunk again. We're
on the move. If you hear me tell you to stay quiet, then you do it.
If you try to signal anyone, you'll cost them their life, and
you'll pay that debt in pain, trust me. Do I make myself
clear?"
Sarah nodded.
"I said,
do I make myself clear
?"
Startled by his outburst, she stuttered her
compliance.
She was pulling again. One look at her
fingers revealed hair as it fell from them. It had become an
unconscious activity.
He looked at her, bewilderment creased his
brow. "What is the matter with you? Why are you missing all that
hair? You got cancer or something?"
Sarah shook her head.
He walked over to her. "Go to the bathroom.
Let's go. Last chance at a civilized rest stop." He said this last
part while his arm pointed at the door.
No chance to grab the screwdriver now. He
hadn't taken his eyes off her the whole time.
Ten minutes later after using the bathroom
to clean the caked blood on the back of her neck and readjusting
her bandanna, she was eating sandwiches at a wooden dinner
table.
Her captor watched her intently. It was
almost like he was undressing her with his eyes.
He told her he was going to make a phone
call and that he would be right outside the cabin door for a few
minutes. When he finished the call, they would be leaving.
She had to walk all the way to the back of
the cabin, grab the screwdriver, hide it somewhere and get back to
the table before he noticed.
No time to waste. He stepped out and secured
the door behind him. She jumped from her chair and bolted to the
back of the cabin as her joints shot pain through her legs. She
brushed past the door to the room she'd been in, and stopped in
front of the window.
Her hand tightened on the handle of the
screwdriver and held it to her chest. She had to get her breathing
under control.
Where could she hide it?
The cabin door banged open.
She lunged forward and then stopped. The
screwdriver was still in her hand.
He yelled for her.
She spun into a corner of the room and
jammed the tool into her right front pocket of her jeans. Before
her hand came out, the screwdriver nicked the inside of her
palm.
She knelt down, leaning against the
wall.
He jumped into the room, his gun drawn.
Sarah ducked her head down.
"What're you doing? Trying the windows, are
you?"
She looked over at him as he crossed the
room and checked the integrity of the window. He turned to her and
placed his gun against the skin of her temple.
"Get up."
She remained on her knees, whimpering. She
didn't want to stand in front of him for fear he'd see the
impression the screwdriver was making on her jeans.