London Escape (12 page)

Outside his apartment I unlock the door and slip inside, checking the hall to make sure no one sees me go in. I lock it securely behind me for good measure.

 The bookshelf is just where I remember it being; inside the bedroom, tipped completely over beside the bed. There are a few books on the floor around it, but none that match the books I already have. I realize the other books are probably still under the bookshelf and I would have to move the shelf to get to them. Easier said than done, the bookshelf is at least five feet tall and solid wood. Not to mention my arms are still sore from yesterday’s botched kidnapping attempt.

 I squat down at one end and get a good grip on the heavy wood. I manage to raise it a few feet and tip it onto its side. Sure enough, underneath there are more books that had been covered. Jason must have either bought a bunch in the time he’d been here or had his mom ship him more, because there are at least a hundred books spilling onto the floor. The small red books I have been collecting must be part of a series as there are several dozen of them mixed in the mess. Feeling annoyed, but not discouraged, I settle down to sort through them all one by one. After yesterday, sitting inside on a rainy day looking though books doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. That is, if my best friend wasn’t in mortal danger and if it wasn’t up to me to find the next clue that just might save his life.

I’m not sure when it became that, a matter of life or death. Perhaps it was yesterday when I realized just how far this Mr. V was willing to go. Up until that point I had been keeping the hope alive that Jason was fine, just hiding out somewhere until this all blew over. Now I know that isn’t true. Now I know for sure V has him. The only question that remains in my mind now is what the clues are leading me to, if not Jason. Once again I don’t have time to ponder all my options. I’m his only hope of rescue, and my hope is resting on this next clue.

It takes me only a few minutes to find the book, mentally praising Alexa’s genius. Just like she said, it’s the second volume to Ovid’s
Metamorphoses
. Clearly she was right about what the numerals stood for. When I flip it open I see it’s just like the first book, a scribbled and marked-up disaster. Instead of being annoyed and confused like the first time, I feel nothing but hope. Because now I know somewhere inside this book is the clue I’m looking for. 

I sit down on the bed, about to take out my notepad and get to work, when I hear it; the very faint sound of a doorknob rattling out in the living room. Like the sound of someone testing the doorknob to see if it’s locked. Instantly I’m reminded of my first time here and my suspicion that the lock had been picked, I wouldn’t put it past those two thugs to be back here again, looking for more answers.

 I jump up and hit the lights. It’s too late to try and go out the front, obviously, and hiding doesn’t seem like a good idea either. The last thing I want is to be in the same room with those two again, especially when there is no one around to save me this time.

 So I do something unthinkable. I slip the book I came for into my backpack and shoulder it. Running to the window I throw it open and look out. Jason’s apartment is three stories up and my head swims just looking down. But I spot something helpful just below the window, it’s a fire escape. Really it’s just a rickety old ladder bolted to the side of the building. Still, it’s my only chance.

 Hearing the door in the living room open with a loud crash, I shove through the window and onto the ladder. Uttering a silent prayer I begin a steady descent. I’m looking straight up because looking down terrifies me, so I see one of the brothers poke his head out the window and spot me. He calls back to his brother in a foreign language and then heaves his hulking frame out the window and onto the ladder. The ladder groans in protest and begins to shake as he clambers down after me. I force my feet to move faster, estimating I’m about two floors down with one to go. My hands, already slick with sweat, slip on a rung and it takes me a full second to recover my balance.

Seconds that seem like hours pass as I scramble downward. Thing One, the larger of the two, is hovering just above me now. His presence only adds to my terror. I’m off as soon as my feet touch the pavement. I collide in the alley with Thing Two, who must have taken the stairs. Fortunately he’s just as surprised as I am and I manage to rocket past without him getting a hand on me. I keep running, barreling down the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians, dogs and strollers. I don’t have to look behind me to know they are still there, I can feel it. I’m quickly running out of breath after my jarring trip down the ladder, but I can’t stop now.    

My heart lurches as I skid around a corner and spot a familiar sight in the distance—Harold’s Towing. Without a moment’s hesitation I hurtle toward the alley where Peter had boosted me over the fence the other night. Unfortunately there is no one there to help me this time. I spot some upturned garbage cans and quickly scramble up on top of them, knowing my pursuers are just seconds behind me. Once I’m balanced carefully on top of the trash cans I jump, reaching for the top of the fence. I’ve just barely grasped the top and begun to pull myself up when a vice-like grip clamps down on my ankle. It’s Thing Two, he’s completely out of breath, huffing and wheezing as he attempts to yank me from the fence. I’m sure Thing One is not far behind, and there is no way I’ll be able to fight them both off. Instinctively I begin to kick wildly with my free foot and he gets a face full of Converse. It’s enough to make his grip slip a little and I use all the strength that’s left in my arms to haul myself over the fence. I drop, a little less gracefully this time, onto the roof of a car and land on my backside with a thud. Another bruise added to my collection. A quick glance over my shoulder tells me Thing One and Thing Two are now following my lead and attempting to climb awkwardly over the fence.

After scrambling down from the car I launch myself into another run, making a beeline for the row with the red Mini Cooper. I spot the mismatched white fender just as I hear the Things crashing down onto a car a few rows over. Fumbling with the keys for half a second I find the right one and unlock the door. After throwing myself into the seat I lock the door behind me and reach for the ignition. Only there is no ignition, at least, not on this side. I realize a second too late the Mini is a right-hand drive. Someone starts pounding on the window, as if trying to bust through the glass. I don’t even bother to look up as I climb over into the driver’s seat. I’ve hit my second snag as I try to start the car. It’s also a stick shift.

 Ignoring the sound of shouting voices outside the car, I remember the time Jason tried to teach me to drive his old Gremlin. It had been a fairly unsuccessful attempt, since I had only managed to get it started once. But right now once is all I’ll need. I glance up just in time to see one of the Things about to put his elbow through the passenger side window. Simultaneously I push in the clutch and turn the key, the car starts instantly. I pop the clutch one more time and shift it into first gear.

 The little car is off like a rocket, leaving Things One and Two in my dust. I race through the rows of cars, looking for an exit. My heart is pounding at a decidedly unhealthy rate and someone has left the stereo cranked up to full blast. My heart throbs in time with the bass line. I head for the direction of the front gate, praying it is open. As I near it I can see the bored-looking woman from the other day, she appears to be taking someone else to get their car. But I don’t slow down, not even when she yells and waves her arms. There are worse things behind me, so I just step on the gas.

I’m almost to the gate when I see someone attempting to close it. How Thing One got ahead of me, I’ll never know. But I manage to shift one more time and the little car puts on a burst of speed that sends it flying through the quickly narrowing gap. There’s a quite a lot of honking as I pull straight out onto a heavily trafficked road. But once I remember to drive on the left side instead of the right the honking ceases.

Right away I check in my rearview mirror to make sure they didn’t get in a car and follow me. Everything looks clear. At some point I manage to turn off the blasting radio in an effort to calm my frantic nerves. I stall out a few times at traffic lights, but I’m quickly getting the hang of shifting gears. I know I’m good and lost, but I need to calm down. And the only thing that can calm me down right now is to put as much distance between myself and those two as possible.

Surprisingly this time I’m not nearly as shaken up as I was yesterday after my first meeting with the Things, though the fact that I’m getting used to near-kidnapping situations is unsettling in its own way. Sirens wail behind me and I wonder for a second if they’re after me, but the police car passes me by. I comfort myself with the knowledge that I didn’t technically steal the car, it did belong to Jason after all.

I keep driving, growing more and more lost by the moment. Finally I spot a familiar landmark, the Thames River. In the distance I can just make out the distinctive shape of the Tower Bridge. I pull into a parking spot nearby and climb out of the car at last. I lock it behind me, shove the keys in my pocket and take my backpack with me. I’m not even sure where I should go next, but I need to stop running and think for a moment.

The afternoon sun is glaring down through thin clouds overhead, attempting to drive away the dreary weather. I find myself walking along a concrete path parallel to the river with other tourists and locals out enjoying the relative sunshine. I walk for about ten minutes, just because I can’t seem to stop, until I finally find a free bench. I sink down and lean forward, resting my head in my hands. I can feel the events of the past three days catching up to me. I’m more tired than I can ever remember being in my life, both mentally and physically. Every inch of my body seems to hurt. My legs feel as though I have just run a marathon, my arms ache, and my tailbone is definitely bruised. Shifting back, I lean up and squint up at the sky. I’m not even certain of the day or the hour anymore.

 After allowing myself a few brief moments of rest, I contemplate my options. Should I go to the police now with what I know? It still doesn’t seem like a good idea since I have no proof of who has Jason or where he’s being held. Also from a legal standpoint neither one of us is in good shape. He has stolen something from his father, most likely something valuable, and I have just committed grand theft auto. Going to the police is definitely out of the question now. Briefly I consider calling my dad, but there is nothing I can think of he could do to help my situation, besides freak out and insist I come home immediately. That’s another definite no.

There is nothing I can do but continue on my own. As long as I’m free and Mr. V still has Jason, I will have keep following the clues.

I take out the book I had found in the apartment, the second volume of
Metamorphoses
. With my notepad balanced on one knee I begin the tedious task of searching for underlined or circled letters. It’s slow going, just like before. The print in the book is small and the pages are so scribbled on that it’s hard to spot anything of importance. But I do spot something. Once again there are circled letters. I find them one by one, and the words begin to form. And just like before the words appear to be in Latin. When I finish writing them down I’m left staring at another sentence I’m unable to read. Groaning aloud, I can’t help but hope this is the last clue.

For once, instead of being completely confused by these seemingly meaningless clues, it hits me with stunning clarity what Jason has been doing all along. Obviously he had prepared, probably long before he got my text, for this situation. He had to have known someone would be coming for the jewels, so he hid them. Then he left a careful trail that only I could find. I was his fail-safe, his back-up plan in case he couldn’t get to them in time. Or in case something happened to him.

Unfortunately his worst-case scenario has come true and now I’m his only hope. He is leading me to the jewels, and he has been all along. But what am I supposed to do with them when I find them? I can’t go to the police once I find them for the same reason I can’t go now, it will look far too suspicious. I’m running out of options and time. I have to decide what my next move is, and fast.

A second realization courses through me just then, Jason has been kidnapped by Mr. V, who only wants one thing: the jewels. If I can find the jewels then I can use them to trade for Jason’s life. What Jason planned on doing with them once this was all done with I have no idea, but I don’t really care. I’m pretty sure he hadn’t intended on getting himself kidnapped. His freedom and safety are far more valuable than these jewels, of that I am certain.

This new revelation means I have to figure out this next clue right away. I hold up the notebook, not caring how insane I might look to people walking by, and read the sentence aloud. “Sancta rex omnibus solarus.”

Of course I have absolutely no clue what it means, but that is about par for the course these days. Time for my contingency plan.

I dial Alexa’s number automatically, but it only rings a few times then goes to voicemail. I’m hesitant to leave a message, so I hang up and call back again. After two more tries without an answer I give up, frustrated. It looks like I’m on my own for this one.

Not knowing what else to do, I scan the sentence one more time. A few of the words look familiar. I’m pretty sure rex means king, but after that I’m completely lost. There is simply no way I can translate this on my own, not in the short amount of time I have to work with. I know now that somehow Thing One and Thing Two had been given information about the locker. But only Jason knew about it before me, and I don’t want to think of what they must have done to him to make him talk. If they’d found a way to get him to talk then there’s also a strong possibility he might have already caved in and given them the location of the jewels. The thought of Mr. V winning and getting his hand on both the jewels and Jason is about more than I can bear. I have to find them first; it’s the only way I can see that this wouldn’t end badly for me.