Episode Eight

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After watching the guys walk inside the warehouse, I crawled into the truck to wait. I was a little surprised to find Thomas had left the keys in the ignition just in case they didn't return. It probably scared the crap out of him to imagine some psycho chick stealing his beloved ride, but unlike Derek, Thomas may have understood I had no intention of ditching them.

Dad had instructed me to get the medication, and I would get it no matter what. Otherwise Mom could die.

No! I wasn't going there. If they didn't come back in thirty minutes, I'd come up with a plan to get the guys out with the meds and get home.

I pulled out my phone to set a timer for fifteen minutes. They'd already been inside for about three.

For a while, I messed around on my phone, trying to see if I could get through to the outside world. Unfortunately, that was a big hell to the no.

With a turn of the keys, I switched on the truck's battery to check the radio. FM had been a static-fest before, so I switched over to AM.

Just like FM, all the stations were static, but as I was about to turn it off, the continuous search paused on a random frequency.

I sucked in a breath.

"... anyone can hear this, my daddy won't wake up." It was a young boy. "Momma called 911 when he wouldn't wake up, but they didn't answer so she said to stay here. She left this morning, and still isn't back. Have you seen my momma? She has brown hair and brown eyes..." The boy sniffled. "Her name's Gina. I know I'm not sposed to, but I'm using Daddy's radio... Daddy? Daddy! You're okay!"

My heart jumped. The Dad was awake. The boy let out a joyful laugh from somewhere in the distance. He sounded so happy.

"Daddy? That hurts. Ahhhhh!" The boy's scream was blood-curdling. "No! Daddy! No! Ahhhhh!"

The station cut to static. I frantically turned knobs and pushed buttons, trying to get the kid back, but there was only dead air. I sat back staring blankly at the radio.

That poor boy.

What just happened? It had to be some kind of joke. Someone was messing around. I mean, how in the hell could a little kid learn how to get on an AM frequency, anyway?

My gut clenched as the boy's screams bounced around in my head. That kid had to be the best actor in the business if that was a hoax. The desperation in the boy's voice had sounded so real.

Wait, a second. Why was I allowing my thoughts to go in such a stupid direction?

There was a simple answer to this. The kid said his dad didn't let him touch the radio and when his father woke up, he punished his son for disobeying before disconnecting the feed. Yeah, that had to be it.

If that was true, then why couldn't I get the boy's scream out of my mind?

I let my head fall into my hands until my timer went off a couple minutes later.

When I glanced up, I saw no one. No Derek. No Thomas. Damn it! They were stuck inside.

Wondering what the holdup could be, my legs bounced. What if Thomas wasn't able to get Candi out of her work area? What if they had to hurt Candi or threaten her? Or what if Thomas decided to have sex with her? I would beat his ass, but Thomas told me he was joking and for some crazy reason I believed him.

Something had gone wrong. I shuddered as cold chills shot through me.

"Come on. Come on. Where are you guys?" I stared at the door willing the guys to walk out as easily as they'd walked in.

An endless grab bag of horrible scenarios ran through my head. They kept twisting into new, scarier situations. Time was moving so slow. Where were they?

Worry took over my thoughts. I have to hand it to myself, I'm a pretty creative person when it comes to concocting the most awful scenario ever. Maybe I get it from my artistic mother, but by the time a silver hummer rolled into the parking lot, I was imagining Derek being beat to a pulp, while crazy town Thomas contemplated outright killing the security guards.

What the hell was I thinking about?

Yeah, I was going total nut case. None of that could actually happen, could it?

That's when I focused in on the dark tinted windows of the shiny hummer. I couldn't quite tell, but it appeared to be a full house. The driver parked front and center to the warehouse door and let the vehicle idle for a moment. It could be someone waiting to pick up an employee.

But... nope. All four doors swung open in unison.

Oh crap!

Four muscular men with huge guns hopped out.

I fell flat to the seat.

Oh. My. God. My heart started to beat a hole in my chest.

Please tell me they didn't see me because if they did, I was as good as dead. In slow, torturous movements, careful not to rock the truck, I locked both doors. They would have to break the glass if they wanted me.

I searched around the cab for a weapon, but only found a zippo in the glove compartment and a random hammer under the seat. Great. A hammer against four guns held no chance.

I clutched the hammer close to my chest. My breathing was the only sound I could hear.

Were they coming over or not? After a long thirty seconds of heavy breathing, I lifted just high enough to see over the dashboard.

Bugs raced over my skin as I watched the four men approach the exact entrance Derek and Thomas had disappeared into over twenty minutes ago. These men appeared to be exact replicas of the hospital guards except they'd upgraded from medical masks to gas masks. Their movements were in full-on stealth mode. Did I mention their guns were prepared to shoot? I would bet the guns were military grade.

This was so not good.

The way they moved in unison told me they were a well-trained unit. But their gear was unmarked. I guess they could be military special forces or something. The leader of the group signaled for the other three to follow him silently inside.

My guts twisted as they all entered the warehouse. Queasy guilt swept over me when I felt relieved that they weren't coming after me.

I couldn't stop thinking about Derek and Thomas. They were still inside, trapped with the maniac gun squad. Witnessing their thorough tactics, I wasn't stupid enough to believe their well-trained eyes hadn't seen me. Maybe they didn't see a point in confronting a harmless eighteen-year-old girl.

Unlocking the doors, I climbed down from the cab and jogged over to the hummer.

There had to be something inside to tell me who these mofo's were and what the hell they were up to. The first two doors I tried were locked.

Cupping my face, I peered through the passenger window. My gaze landed on a huge duffel bag full of guns. I jerked to a crouch when I noticed movement in the trunk.

There was still someone inside. Damn it! How could I have been so damn stupid?

My hands shook against the pavement as I determined what I should do next. Whatever moved in the trunk was much smaller than the trained soldiers. I crawled toward the rear, praying I'd find a small animal and not someone waiting to shoot me in the face.

I barely stood, hunched over, and peeked into the back. There were two children inside! The jerks had separated the trunk from the seats with a custom-made barrier of steel bars, creating a holding area.

I straightened, taking in the sight before me.

The tiny girl couldn't be older than three while the boy looked about seven or eight. Their wrists and ankles were handcuffed and connected with a chain like they were mental patients. They'd padlocked their chains to the bars. What in the ever loving shit was this?

Who would do such an awful thing to children? Shit heads, that's who.

The girl's features were distorted with bruises and swelling. She was unconscious. How did they rationalize treating children like this? She was harmless for God's sake!

The boy was a different story. He was crouched, facing away from me, and appeared to be working hard on something. I could only assume he was trying to get out of his restraints. His hair was matted, and I noticed blood leaking out of his ears, but he was wide awake, aggressively moving his head up and down.

This abuse was unacceptable. They couldn't keep kids locked up like this. I had to get them out.

I tapped on the window with my nail, but the boy didn't hear me.

I tapped harder.

He stopped moving.

I tapped again.

His head jerked around wildly, but he didn't turn to look at me.

What the...? Maybe his senses were off from the illness. Running to the other side to talk to him, I knocked on the window, hard this time.

My hand flew up, covering my mouth.

The whites of the boy's eyes were blood red. Blood stained his cheeks in streaks. I could barely make out the small bits of brown that once colored his eyes.

His skin was no longer swollen like the little girl. His mouth and lips were dripping with blood. He bared his teeth at me as he tugged against the restraints. The boy's mouth snapped open and closed at odd angles.

My gaze fell to what he'd been working on so aggressively.

He'd been chewing on his arm.

My gut twisted as I examined the enormous hole he'd chewed all the way to the bone. Muscle and tendons dangled as he fought against the cuffs. With his eyes locked on me, I could only define the expression on his face as ravenous.

He wanted to chew on me.

Backing away, I shook my head. No... it couldn't be.

That's when I heard the gunshots.

I crouched in response. Screw helping the kid that wanted to eat me. Derek and Thomas needed me, and I had no frigging weapons to help.

I broke into a run toward the truck. I climbed up and grabbed the hammer. More gunshots echoed inside the warehouse, fueling my strength.

Dashing back to the hummer, I held the hammer over my head and brought it down hard. The window shattered. Thank God.

My fingers hurried to find the auto-lock and pressed down. Yanking open the door, I grabbed the bag of guns and heaved them back to our truck. They were heavy as hell. There was no way I could lift them into the cab.

Instead, I set them on the far side of the truck where no one could see me. I grabbed a gun. It matched the same type I saw them take inside. It looked ready to shoot, but crap, I had no idea. Wasn't there some kind of safety or something? There were two handles, a bullet clip, and a bunch of other crap I could care less about.

When I was little my uncle used to take me shooting in secret. The one thing he taught me other than keeping the barrel pointed at the ground, was to always remember to turn the safety on. That had been a long time ago, but I knew it was near the trigger.

And yep, there it was. I switched it off and mimicked how the men held the guns against their shoulder as I ran into the warehouse. If something had happened to Derek or Thomas, I would never forgive myself. I could only hope they weren't dead yet.


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