Zack's head felt clear for the first time since he'd gotten into Jerry's car the day before. He could look beyond the earlier events of the morning and focus again. He was over being sad. Over being the victim. Zack Martin was mad. He was normally an easy-going boy and rarely got worked up or moved to anger. When it happened, it was almost always the result of a great injustice, real or perceived. And his current situation was nothing if not the paramount of all injustices.
The sense of anger coursing through him reignited the the hunger in his belly. Zack realized he was starving. He inhaled the first sandwich he could reach without tasting it and went to wash it down with a swig of the juice but stopped almost as soon as the liquid touched his tongue. He furrowed his brow, trying to figure out what was wrong with it. Danny watched as he went to the bathroom and spit it out in the sink.
"What's wrong?"
"Doesn't taste right"
"How?"
Back when Zack was a small child, he hated taking pills. Simply refused to do it. Carey got the idea of grinding a pill up and mixing it in with a drink from one of her friends and that worked for about a year. He noticed the mildly different flavor, the slight chalky and gritty taste, but never figured out why it sometimes tasted different until he caught her in the act.
Once, in the forever-ago of first grade, Zack missed school with a high fever. After getting the good news that he was staying home for the day, Zack went into the kitchen and made himself some peanut butter toast and a glass of juice. He carried the plate and his favorite glass back to his bed and began getting better with massive doses of cartoons.
He soon finished both and called out to Carey. "Mom! Will you bring me some more juice? I'm thirsty."
"I'm busy, Zack. You're a big boy, you can pour it yourself," she answered from the living room.
"I don't feel so good," Zack called back, smothering a smile on his face with a hand. "I might spill it."
"Fine," he heard his mother grumble before she came in and took the cup from him. "I'll bring it back to you in a minute."
Zack never possessed much patience even at a young age and his mother's minute seemed to take hours. He harrumphed and slid out of bed and padded towards the kitchen to see what was taking her so long. He peeked over the pass-through between the living room and the kitchen and saw her grinding something up on a piece of paper on the counter. A closer look revealed a bottle of children's aspirin close by.
Watching as his mother finished grinding what could only be a pill and dumping the powder into his glass, Zack's mouth dropped open into an 'O' of surprise. He stole away back to his bed while she stirred it and dove back under the covers to wait for her to bring him the concealed medicine. Zack took the cup from her and took a little sip, looking up at her and smiling the whole time.
"Taste good, kiddo?" She asked.
"Mmhmm!" He said to her through closed lips. He could taste the grit in his mouth.
"Good. I'm going to go watch the news." She left and Zack quickly spit the juice back into the cup. He shook his head at the empty doorway and hopped to the floor, juice cup in hand.
Zack softly walked into the living room and paused between his mother and the screen. Once he was sure he had her attention, he moved to the side of the television and stood beside a potted plant with a really big name and bigger leaves.
"Zack? What are you doing, honey?"
Zack looked at her and poured the contents of the glass into the plant. "Nice try, Mom," he said as he went to the kitchen and poured himself another glass of juice.
"There's something mixed in it," he told Danny as he dumped the entire pitcher down the sink. "Some kind of medicine."
"Medicine?"
"He's been drugging you, Danny. Probably every day." Zack nearly threw the pitcher across the room.
"You really think so?" Danny asked timidly.
"I all but guarantee it." Zack rinsed the container out and filled it with clean water. "Drink this. As much of it as you can. Maybe you can flush whatever it is out of your system before we get out of here tonight."
"You have a plan?"
"Not yet but I will. I promise."
Zack planned and schemed and made sure Danny drank and ate all afternoon. Each thing he came up with seemed more unrealistic and crazier than the last. Stop trying to come up with the perfect plan, Zack. Just make a good one, he told himself after an hour's worth of fruitless thinking. For some reason, that thought was immediately followed by a Mike Tyson quote he'd picked up somewhere: "Everyone has a plan until he gets punched in the face." He wasn't sure if that was some sort of premonition or what. "I'm going to do the punching if I can," he said to himself and went back to thinking the afternoon away. Nothing seemed more than partially likely to succeed but half chances were better than the no chance he knew he'd have if he stayed in Jerry's basement. He eventually came up with what seemed like the best choice and passed word on to Danny.
Shortly before Danny said Jerry usually returned, Zack had the boy put on the warmest clothes he found and helped him under the blanket. Once he was sure Danny was totally concealed beneath the faded wool, Zack placed his folded jacket near the steps and buried himself under his own blanket, grimacing slightly as his head laid on his hardened pillow.
The two boys talked very little as the minutes slowly ticked by. Zack spent the time gripping and tightening his hold on the rolled up end of the pillowcase and by giving Danny reassuring smiles and nods. Zack reached over and laid a hand on the boy's chest when they heard the car pull into the driveway.
"Be cool, Danny, be cool. It'll all be over in a little bit," he whispered to the boy, adding "one way or the other" to himself. He felt Danny's heartbeat jackhammering away anxiously and was more than a little surprised that his own was eerily calm. Zack pulled his hand back and strained to hear every noise. After what seemed like an eternity, the sound of a door opening and closing reached his ears.
"Easy, buddy," he said softly as he heard Danny shifting nervously nearby. Every short hair on his body stood on end as the door to the basement creaked open. Zack shut one eye and narrowed the other to a fine slit as Jerry came down the steps.
"Wakey wakey," the man said as he reached the foot of the steps. He continued to feign sleep as Jerry approached and stood over them. He fought to control a shiver as Jerry spoke again. "Up and at 'em, kids," he said, "it's been a long day and Uncle Jerry needs to relax. There's one," Jerry said as Zack opened on eye and looked up at him.
"You ready, kid?"
"Ready for what?" Zack asked, trying to sound as groggy as possible.
"The same thing we did this morning, boy. I've been thinking about you all day. Tried to come home early, actually, so we could have more time to play. Just you and me." Zack could physically feel the man's gaze drift over his body and his skin crawled. Jerry squatted down and put a hand on Zack's shoulders and rubbed it across his back and paused on his ass. "Oh yeah, just like I remembered."
"Closer,"Zack said to himself, "just a little closer."He couldn't stop his body from flinching as Jerry grabbed a handful of his backside. "What about Danny?"
"We'll let him sleep a little longer. You and me for a while, Zack. Just you and me." Jerry's hand slid back and forth a few times before grabbing another handful of flesh. "I'm off tomorrow. Plenty of time left tonight to wake him up later."
The clock had just changed to five after midnight in the Martin household. Cody was deeply asleep on one half of his bed while Sasha, book open across his chest, lightly dozed on the other half. Carey and Kurt were sitting in the living room with the news on and the volume low. Carey was just about to tell Kurt that she was going to turn in for a few hours when a sudden knock startled them both. They looked at each other and then raced to the door.
Carey pulled it open and saw a familiar officer standing before her. Her heart shot into her throat. They weren't expecting anything new until the morning. "Lieutenant Hamilton," she stammered as she let him in.
"Ma'am, sir," he said as he took off his hat and nodded to them.
"Please tell me you're hear with good news, Lieutenant." She tried to keep the nervousness out of her voice.
"I am, Ms. Martin."
"Oh?" Carey and Kurt said at the same time.
"That's right. As we speak, the FBI is gathering for a raid on a residence where we believe the man who abducted your son lives."
"This is...sudden," Carey told him, a bit taken aback by the suddenness of his announcement.
"We received a tip a little more than an hour ago, Mr. and Ms. Martin, and we've been furiously checking it. The last piece of information fell into place just as I was leaving for home tonight and I volunteered to tell you personally."
"You're sure?" Kurt asked, wanting to believe but not letting himself just yet.
"The operation hasn't happened yet and there is always a small chance we're wrong but I'd bet the house on it, sir."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Carey said, barely keeping the tears out of her eyes. That seemed good enough for Kurt and he put an arm around her shoulders.
Back in the boys' bedroom, Cody was tossing and turning. He'd elbowed Sasha in the ribs and woke him up. "Easy, Cody," Sasha said as he moved slightly further away. He was just settling back in when Cody sat straight up and screamed.
"Now or never, Zack!"
Zack's knuckles went white as he squeezed his hand. "Okay," he said meekly. He turned on his side now or never, Zack! and rose to a sitting position. By the time Jerry noticed Zack's far arm begin its motion it was too late. Zack was already on his knees and grunting as he swung the loaded pillowcase as hard as he could. Jerry managed to turn his head just enough to take the brunt of the blow on his face instead of Zack's target, his temple. The sound of either shattering bone or splintering plastic, Zack wasn't sure which, exploded in the quiet room. Jerry fell backwards and let loose a guttural yell.
"Go, Danny! Go!" Zack yelled as he swung his makeshift weapon again. He wasn't so lucky the second time; the old, frayed fabric of the pillowcase tore and pieces of what used to be the vcr sailed across the room, the cord flailing behind like the tail of some bizarre 120volt pterodactyl, before it slammed into the wall.
Danny hopped up as Jerry fell and dashed to the steps. Zack had lost his balance after his second swing and had fallen on his hands and knees. He was turning to make his escape when a large hand reached out and clamped like a bear trap around his wrist.
"You little bastard!" Jerry said through bloody and broken teeth. "You're not going anywhere." He squeezed tighter and Zack yelped as he felt the bones begin to grind together. He tried to pull away but wasn't strong enough.
"Zack!" Danny cried from the foot of the stairs, holding Zack's jacket tightly to his chest.
"Go on, Danny! Go! Get out of here!" Zack yelled through a curtain of tears. Something snapped in his hand. "Aaah! Let go!"
"Never. I'm going to kill you for this," Jerry said as he started pulling Zack toward his body. "But before I do, I'm going to make this morning seem like a day at the beach. Oh yeah, you can count on that. You'll beg me to kill you."
Zack rolled onto his back and drew one of his legs up and snapped out a kick at Jerry's head and caught him in the jaw. The man's grip loosened and Zack ripped his hand away and backward somersaulted out of reach. He stumbled to his feet and raced to the stairs.
"Let's go, Danny," Zack panted as he grabbed the boy's hand in his good one. Danny had frozen at the bottom of the stairs as the struggle went on and it took a good tug before he snapped out of it. They reached the top of the steps and found themselves in the middle of the kitchen. Zack looked around and saw the door as Jerry bellowed from downstairs.
"I'm going to catch you!" He screamed as Zack pulled on the door's knob.
"C'mon," he said, but the door didn't budge. He looked in vain for a bolt to throw but saw none. Zack turned around and followed the counter until he saw another door in what looked like the living room. "Oh this is bullshit," he mumbled, desperation growing, as he found the same type of lock on the second door. He pulled Danny along behind him as they heard heavy footfalls on the basement steps.
"I'll make it quick on you, Danny," Jerry shouted from the kitchen landing. "But you, Zack...You...I'm going to enjoy watching the life drain out of your eyes after I slit your fucking throat!"
"What are we going to do, Zack?"
"We're...going out that window," Zack said decisively. He picked up a small wooden end table, gasping and nearly dropping it as his broken hand exploded in pain, and threw it through the glass. "Out!" Zack said as covered his face with his hands and jumped through the remnants of the window. He landed mostly on a small snow drift, tucked, rolled, and came to his feet. Danny quickly followed him but didn't land as well. The boy winced and fell forward as he tried to stand up.
"Great," Zack said as he helped Danny up. "Can you walk?" One attempted step quickly answered that question. "On my back. Hurry." Zack bent down and Danny climbed on. He looked back and saw a stumbling shadow approaching the window. Fueled by raw terror, he took off through the backyard as fast as he could through the snow and headed for the treeline.
