Flee (26 page)

Blake

Something was dripping down my face. It seemed to be coming from my forehead. There was something wet and heavy there. And cool. It felt good, whatever it was. Refreshing. Even the tiny rivulets flowing from it down my face and neck were refreshing. I was hot. Why was I so hot? And I was thirsty. I opened my mouth and used my tongue to catch the dripping water on my face. A second later I felt a water bottle pressed against my lips and I drank, the water soothing my dry mouth but burning my throat on its way down. I tried to open my eyes but only my right eye responded. I couldn't see anything. Whatever was on my forehead was across my eyes as well. I closed my right eye when water dripped into it and protested by moaning slightly when the cool, heavy, wet object was lifted away.

Now I could see. I let my right eye adjust to the dim light. I was lying on my back, on a concrete floor, staring at an old, cheap ceiling fan with four light bulbs, three of which were burned out. I turned my head slightly to the right and was rewarded with intense shooting pain that made me gasp.

“Don't move unless you have to.” The voice was coming from close beside me, but it was garbled, like it was speaking through water. It took me several seconds to decode what it had said, and several more to realize that the whirling,
whooshing
noise that had garbled it was in my head. As I sat still and the pain lessened, the
whooshing
went away. The next time the voice spoke, it sounded normal.

“Are you okay? Can you talk?”

My brain, slow and confused and hurting, finally attached meaning to the words and familiarity to the voice.

“Danny?”

“Yeah, I'm here.”

The wet thing was placed back on my forehead, fresh water dripping from it again down my face. “Although I can't tell you exactly where here is. I can only say that our new home-sweet-home leaves a lot to be desired. It seems to be missing almost all of the basic amenities, although I will say we're well supplied in water and tortilla chips. But that's about it.”

“Shoot, not even any salsa?” I rasped. It felt good to joke, to ignore the obvious for just a minute. I needed time to take it all in. I guess I should be grateful that I was still alive, but I couldn't help wondering for how long.

“Nope, but that's just as well. I'm a guacamole man myself. I've never been big on the tomato-based condiments.” He paused, adjusting the compress on my head. “Tell me how you feel.”

I paused before speaking, taking an assessment of myself. My head was pounding, accompanied by a dull, hot throbbing on the left side of my face. My nose was throbbing too. It hurt to breathe through it. Breathing through my mouth wasn't much better. The air got to my throat and seemed to catch on fire, and the fire seemed to spread across my whole body. I was so hot. My left eye wouldn't open. I assumed it was swollen shut. I was weak and nauseous and achy. I started to speak but wretched instead as the nausea grew and overcame me. The water I had just swallowed came back up, pouring down my shirt as Danny quickly lifted my head to keep me from choking. The pain that followed the quick motion was overwhelming. I gasped and collapsed back onto Danny's arm, allowing him to lower me back down.

“That's what I thought. In addition to the black eye, laceration, and probable concussion you sustained at the game, you have since acquired a broken nose, and I'm guessing the same flu or whatever Mateo was suffering from. You're burning with fever. I've been doing my best to keep you comfortable, but I'm working with limited supplies here.”

His voice was weary, concerned. It sounded so foreign from the sarcastic, teasing Danny I was used to. I didn't like it. It scared me. As if on cue, I began to shake. Danny's arms very gently lifted me up, pulling my body to his as he wrapped himself around me.

“I'm afraid we're fresh out of blankets and space heaters, so body heat is all I can offer.”

I tried to nod, but I didn't want to move my head. “Thanks,” I whispered, pressing myself against him as much as I could. I was so cold. How had I flip-flopped so fast? How high was my fever? Danny's body was warm, his breath against my ear hot. I concentrated on the warmth and tried to stop shaking.

“No problem,” Danny returned. “I could do this all night. As a matter of fact, I think I have.”

“Seriously?” I tried to wrap my mind around that. “How long have we been here?”

“The best I can tell, it's around lunch time. The window is blacked out, but there are a few scratches I can see through. I think the sun is directly above us, so I'm guessing we've been here about eighteen hours or so.”

“I was out that long?” Panic creeped into my voice. How had I lost so much time?

“You were in and out.”

“And you have no idea where we are?”

“And no idea why we're still alive. Let's look on the bright side though,” Danny began. The sarcasm was back in his voice. It was strangely comforting. If we were going to die, I guess it was better to go down with our sense of humor intact.

“I've always wanted to go to an isolated cabin and be alone with a beautiful woman lying in my arms clinging to me. Of course, it would be better if said woman wasn't covered in vomit and burning up with fever, and if she didn't currently have the face of a down-on-his-luck boxer. Even if I could get past the smell, that's a slight distraction. And let's not even bring up the avenging boyfriend who could probably snap me in half if he wanted.”

“I thought we were looking on the bright side,” I grumbled.

“Oh, yeah. I forgot. We have gourmet food, at the least.”

He gestured to the corner, and I gingerly moved my eyes without moving my head to see a pack of water bottles and several bags of tortilla chips. My eyes hurt. I could feel the path they had traced, throbbing against my eyelids. Was there any part of me that didn't hurt? At least I wasn't shaking any more. I lay still for several more minutes, concentrating on taking deep breaths in and out. It seemed to help quell the nausea, but also brought with it the very unpleasant aroma of my shirt. Wow, I smelled.

“Danny, help me get this off.” I sat up gingerly, ignoring spasms of pain, and reached for the bottom of my jersey. Danny helped me peel it off, slowly and carefully working it around my head before tossing the putrid thing in the corner. I was thankful for the long-sleeved undershirt I had on. It seemed to still be in decent shape. I lay back down on the cold cement floor, hot again.

“Again, that wasn't how I pictured that,” Danny teased. “But at least it was something.”

“It was as much something as you're ever going to get from me,” I returned. He laughed.

“I am okay with that.. You're really not my type. I prefer my women with two eyes.” He reached over and grabbed the water bottle beside him, pouring it onto the thick blue cotton strip he held before placing the strip back on my now hot forehead.

“What
is
this? Your
soccer sock?”
I would have wrinkled my nose if I had thought it wouldn't hurt.

“Hey, you have to work with what life gives you, and it hasn't given us much in this bare little room.” He gently adjusted the saturated sock on my head so that it didn't drip into my eyes.

“Danny, thanks for being on our side. I'm sorry we doubted you.”

“You were just going off of instincts, and Mateo's instincts were right. I'm not just some eighteen-year-old innocent student. I'm not even eighteen. I would have done the same in his shoes. You're worth protecting. I'm sorry I haven't done a better job of that. And I'm sorry I couldn't let you know who I was working for before.”

“Who are you working for?” I was intrigued. Who was he? Who had sent him here? What was he up to? I waited for him to answer my question, my breath held in anxiously. Danny shrugged.

“Let's just say I'm working for the right side, albeit not very well at the moment.” He was silent then. He pulled my head gently up onto his lap as I gritted my teeth and pushed my hair out of my face. “I don't know if we're going to make it out of here alive, but I promise you I'll do everything I can to get you out safely. It's not much, but it's the best I can offer.”

“Thanks,” I whispered again. My eyes, or rather eye, was getting heavy. I felt myself drifting back toward unconsciousness. I tried to force it open, focusing on Danny's face. For the first time, I noticed his black eye. It wasn't as bad as mine. It wasn't swollen shut, but it wasn't alone either. Several more black and blue bruises surrounded it, appearing in the pattern of fingers, as if someone had tried to strangle him. He saw me looking and smiled a wry smile.

“I don't suppose the other guy looks worse?”

“Unrecognizable,” he answered, grinning.

My eye was closing. I couldn't fight it anymore.

“Go back to sleep, Blake. Your body needs rest. I'll keep watch.”

“Thanks Danny. There's no one else I would rather be captured and held hostage with.”

He chuckled, and I smiled and wondered again at our ability to joke in these circumstances. I was almost asleep when a thought occurred to me.

“Danny? Did my goal go in?” He laughed.

“It was a perfect shot into the upper right corner. Their keeper never stood a chance.”

I smiled, which hurt, but it was a good hurt. I supposed it seemed ridiculous, all things considered, but at least we had won. It was something.

****

The next time I awakened it seemed darker somehow, as if the lone lit bulb was giving up the fight to keep shining. The little streaks of sunlight that had been squeezing through the cracks in the black paint on the window had disappeared, but I could tell it was still daytime. My head was still in Danny's lap, his right arm wrapped protectively around me. I glanced up without moving my head to see that Danny was asleep, his head awkwardly leaning against the wall, his jaw open. I felt a little better, somehow, not quite so feverish. My head still hurt, but it wasn't intense. I braved a movement and was instantly stilled by a spasm of pain. I guess I only felt better if I stayed perfectly still. Not very convenient, considering our best chance of survival was escape, the attempt at which would be seriously hindered by someone who couldn't move.

Danny had felt me stir. He opened his eyes and looked at me questioningly.

“How are you?” His voice was gruff, exhausted.

“A little better, I think, although it hurts to move.”

“So don't. I kind of like this anyway.” He smiled down at me. His voice was gentle but I could see the tension in his eyes, especially when they roamed across the room, taking in all four corners and the steel door.

“What kind of place is this?” I asked, following the movement of his eyes.

“I'm not sure,” he answered. He was tired. I could make out a faint hint of a Mexican accent on his almost-slurred words. “It seems to be like an old office or storage room, for what, I don't know, but something heavy duty. The walls are cinderblock, the door, steel, the lone window is barred. The slab you are so comfortably resting on is concrete.”

“Shoot. There goes my plan to dig us out,” I murmured. As long as I could try to laugh, then I wouldn't cry.

“Maybe we're at an old quarry or some kind of construction site. Whatever it is, judging from the cobwebs and filth, it appears long-abandoned. I'm sure it's in the middle of nowhere. I've heard no traffic noise. The only thing I have heard is the sound of our captors talking outside of the door, but I haven't been able to make out what they were saying.”

I shuddered. Of course there would be guards. This little room had seemed so lonely I hadn't considered there was anyone else around. So much for trying to escape, even if I could move.

“Why are we here?” I whispered faintly. I was both afraid of the answer and wanting to know.

“I don't know. I don't get it,” he replied. “I expected them to kill us as soon as we were clear of the school. Las Lunas operates carefully outside of Mexico's borders, but still they're never known for mercy. The fact that we're alive means they want something. They were obviously planning for you to have a bit of a stay.” He tilted his head to indicate the water bottles and chips. “Why they took me with you and have left me alone so far is another mystery.”

“Do we have any hope of rescue?”

This possibility both excited and frightened me. I knew Mateo must be crazed right now. I was scared to death that he would do something stupid and get hurt. It was better if he just stayed away and let them do what they planned with us.
Please don't come after me
, I silently pleaded. I knew it was a futile plea, though.

Danny shrugged his shoulders. “If that boyfriend of yours and his super crew of security can locate us, I expect they'll attempt a rescue. It would be ugly, though. I have a feeling we're heavily guarded.”

I suppressed the ugly image that tried to push into my head. “What about you?” I asked a little desperately, wondering again who he worked for and what they would do to save him.

“I'm on my own. This is just a hazard of the job, always a possibility.”

“What do you mean, always? I'm not the first damsel in distress you've attempted to protect?” I tried to sound offended. He chuckled.

“Naw, but you're by far the prettiest, at least when your face isn't swollen up like a ripe melon. As it stands at the moment,” he said, pretending to examine my facial features, “I'm going to have to bump you down to second.”

I laughed. It hurt, but not as much as before. I was just about to ask him another question when the door groaned and, after a little resistance, banged open. Danny was instantly on his feet, positioned protectively in front of me, his stance wary and alert.

The man who entered, dressed all in black with military style boots on, scared me. Of course I should be scared, I told myself, taking in his holster and gun and knife. But it was his eyes that scared me the most. They were cold and unfeeling, completely lifeless. There would be no compassion from him. He walked toward Danny, stopping about two feet away before leaning around to glance at me. His eyes returned to Danny.

“You have a phone call,” he said menacingly, holding out a cell. Danny grabbed it, confusion and uncertainty on his face.

“Yes?” He spoke and then silently listened for several seconds, his expression going from confused to surprised to determined. Finally he nodded and said, “I'll do my best,” before turning and kneeling and handing the phone to me.

I took it, thoroughly confused now. “Hello?” My voice came out like a whimper.

“Blake, are you okay?”

Mateo! His voice was anxious and raspy, and he coughed after he spoke. Tears began working their way down my cheeks, but I tried to keep my voice steady.

“I'm hanging in there. What's going on?”

“I'm sure I don't have time to explain, just know that I love you and I'm coming for you and…”

The phone was ripped from my hands.

The guard in black said “That's enough” in heavily accented English. He then winked at me and strode from the room, once again securing the door.

Crap! I wanted to talk to Mateo. I wanted to go home. I wanted to feel better. And now I was crying like a little lost girl, which only made my head and nose hurt more. Danny sat down beside me, pulling me softly up against his side, being careful of my head and face.

“I don't understand.” I decided I hated that guard. I wanted to punch him right in his mocking face.

“I'm not sure that I do, either. Whatever they want, it seems Mateo has it. He has arranged a trade. Us for it.” He paused, pushing his hair away from his eyes, trying to figure it out. “It's unprecedented. I've never known Las Lunas to make a trade. They must really want this. Do you have any idea what it is?”

I hesitated. Without warning, I was completely paranoid. What if Danny was a plant? What if this was all an elaborate set up to get me to reveal the information I had and when they had it they would kill me? It was a ludicrous thought. I felt with every ounce of my being that Danny was trustworthy. I think I always had. But my mind would not completely capitulate. He hadn't told me who he was working for or what he was supposed to be doing. Could I trust him to tell him what I knew?

I looked up to find Danny watching me curiously. What did he think of my prolonged pause? “I'm not sure,” I murmured. “We have some information. We aren't entirely sure what it means. It was important enough, though, to get my parents killed, so I'm guessing it's something they need pretty badly, but we don't know why. We're still trying to decipher it.”

Danny nodded and asked no more questions, which made me feel foolish for withholding details. “So what happens now? What did Mateo tell you?”

“That he's on his way here, accompanied by Thomas, Foster, and Hector. The plan is he gives them what they want, and they release us.”

“What, and then everyone just goes on their merry little way? Will it really work like that?” It would never go down like that. I was completely inexperienced in these things, but even I wasn't innocent enough to believe that.

“That's what Lunas is saying, but of course no one believes that. Mateo told me I'm to protect you at all costs, to get you out of here at the first possible chance.”

My blood ran cold within me. If Mateo put Danny in charge of protecting me, then what was he doing? The picture was incomplete, like I was missing a piece of the puzzle. What was he up to? I started shivering again, whether from the fever or nerves, I didn't know. Danny rubbed my arms and huddled close until I stopped.

We lay there silently then, each lost in our own dark thoughts. Occasionally Danny would feel my cheeks or head to check my temperature, his serious worried eyes meeting mine and then looking away quickly. One time he held a water bottle to my lips, forcing me to take small sips. I only attempted to move once, to reposition my head on his lap. It was excruciating, but I managed it with no resulting quell of nausea. Danny watched me carefully until he was sure I was able to keep the freshly sipped water down, and then offered me another sip. The water burned its way down my throat.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed when the door groaned open again. It was dark outside now. The guard with the lifeless eyes entered, followed by a short muscular woman in similar black clothing. She stood by the door, the automatic weapon in her hands pointed at us. The first guard walked confidently to where we stood, stopping inches away from where Danny now stood. I lay panting in pain on the ground behind Danny, his quick motion having jostled my head despite his hasty efforts to be careful.

“Show time,” the guard said, indicating with a jerk of his head that we were to follow him.

Danny turned back to me and swiftly but carefully picked me up. My heart was beating fast, as fear and anxiety coursed through me. Was Mateo out there? Was he okay? What was about to happen? I tried to watch as Danny carried me through the door, following the first guard and carefully stepping around the female. The artificial light in the outside yard hurt my eyes and my head, but I forced my eyes to stay open, searching frantically without moving my head for Mateo. We stopped after about ten steps. My eyes met Danny's, silently questioning, and he gently shifted me so that my head was facing forward more.

There, just five feet in front of me and on the other side of the guard who had led us out, was Mateo. His eyes were on mine, gentle and reassuring. Then he took in my whole face, and his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed, and he appeared ready to pounce, rocking slightly forward on the balls of his feet.

“Mateo,” I whispered, drawing his eyes back to mine. His were filled with tears now, and rage. He looked at the hollow-eyed guard. I could sense him assessing his chances, cataloging the guard's weapons and cover. Panic rose up inside of me, and then I felt Danny shake his head no. Mateo responding by rocking back onto his heals, relaxing his attack posture, but his eyes remained murderously angry. I couldn't move my head to look around, but I sensed there were many people around us in the shadows. I wondered if Thomas and Hector and Foster were here, or if Mateo had come alone.

Mateo reached into his back pocket, removing a small innocuous envelope. He handed it to the guard, who opened it and removed the single sheet of paper inside. I recognized it as the original copy of the map found in my father's cigar box. The guard read it and smiled and then turned to Mateo, speaking rapidly in Spanish before walking away from us. My heart began to slow down. Was it really this easy? Mateo advanced toward me, an expression of both relief and anguish on his face. I tried to process what that meant, but gave up when I felt his arms wrap around me as he carefully took me from Danny.

“I'm so sorry.” His voice heavy with emotion. He buried his head gently against mine, kissing my swollen left eye so softly I could hardly feel it. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.” I wanted to turn my head to look into his eyes but didn't dare. I snuggled closer to him, letting his warmth soak into me. His skin was hot. After a few seconds, I noticed it was too hot. “You're still sick.” I whispered.

“I'm fine. Better every day.” He spoke quietly into my ear. Why weren't we moving? Wasn't the plan to get out of here as quickly as possible? I sensed Danny's close presence. He was hovering nearby. Before I could give this any more thought, Mateo spoke into my ear again, so softly only I could hear.

“I love you, Blake. Please, for me, stay strong. Please hold on to hope. I need you to be okay. Promise me you'll fight to be okay.”

The words were anguished, spilling quickly out of his mouth and instantly filling me with panic. What was he saying?

“Mateo, I…” I stopped.

The female guard was now standing right behind Mateo, her gun nudging him in the back. Understanding, dark and horrifying, began to fight its way into my reluctant brain. I felt my weight being shifted back into Danny's waiting arms, felt Mateo's lips again, soft on my forehead, heard his whispered “I love you.”

“No-o-o,” I screamed.
Us for it. A trade. Us for it
. It wasn't just a piece of paper. It was Mateo himself. I fought against Danny's hold. “No! Put me down! Mateo!” He was ripped from me, the hand I had been clutching torn away as the guard forced him with her gunpoint to move. Nausea quelled up inside of me as I fought for release. Black spots rose in front of my eyes as my head protested the movement.

“Blake, stop. You have to be strong. I can't be strong unless you are.” His voice was tortured. I couldn't see him anymore, but I knew he needed me so I stopped screaming. I couldn't be strong, not really, but I was hoping for his sake I could fake it for a few seconds.

“Danny!” Mateo's voice was urgent, full of authority. “Take care of her for me.”

“I will,” Danny returned with sincerity.

“I love you, Mateo. I love you,” I said, my voice raspy and choked with tears. I tried to turn my head to see him, and the nausea took over. We were moving. Fast. Danny was running, trying to cradle my head against his chest without success. My head bounced against him, and I retched, trying to lean away from him. He didn't release my head, and the water he had insisted I swallow came back up all over his shirt. I tried to tell him I was sorry, tried to turn and catch a last glimpse of Mateo, but I couldn't. The black spots grew before my eyes until they overcame me.