Chapter 52
Taylor Sausages
Cave Junction, OR
Morgan
It was dinner. What the hell was taking them so long? No, better question, what did Seaver do this time?
When it seemed like it was taking forever for the two of them to get back Morgan tried calling Reid. When that didn't work he tried calling Seaver. When that didn't work he tried calling Garcia. "Hey, baby girl, work your magic on Reid's phone for me."
He heard the sound of keys behind her. "Um, it says he's in town with you. A few miles west, why, is something wrong?"
"I don't know. Let me call you back." Now he was concerned. He got into the other car, given the state of the rainstorm, and drove down to the other side of town to find this place.
As soon as he got into the parking lot he started feeling sick. Because there was a battered car parked way too close, and there were sandwiches going cold in the back seat and that was Reid's gun on the floor. And two cell phones in the passenger's seat.
Goddamn it.
Morgan got back in the car and floored it back to the station to break all hell loose on this mountain.
Abandoned mine
Oregon
Spencer
When Spencer came to he was lying on a cold, stone floor. It took him a long moment to remember what happened, where he might be, and why. Once he did he listened carefully before opening his eyes, but all he could hear was someone breathing slowly and evenly not too far away.
He opened his eyes to find himself sitting in a cell made out of a niche mined out of the side of the mine tunnel. Someone had put iron bars over the entrance, had cemented them in well. From the look of the work it was not recent, these cells were old. But the locks on the doors were shiny and new and the kind that would be a bitch to pick, even if he had the tools.
He got up slowly, waiting for his head to stabilize on his shoulders before moving to the front of the cell. The Unsub had strung clear Christmas lights along the ceiling, of all things, which gave the place a gentle, clear glow, more than enough light to see Seaver still out cold on the other cell floor. In the center, directly between the cells, was an old, sturdy chair made up with various restraints. That was disturbing.
Looking around his cell for assets he found a self-contained camping toilet, in full view of everything, of course, a stack of cases of bottled water, and a case of military Meals Ready to Eat. Not the best food by far but at least he would neither starve nor dehydrate. But that did explain why the Unsub waited so long to cut out their tongues, they would need them to eat this kind of food. His pockets had been emptied, his satchel left behind in the car more than likely. He rather regretted that, he'd kind of like to have his contacts out now. Or maybe he was just thinking about his eyes, how much he'd rather like to keep them, and preferably both.
Stop that, he told himself sternly. The team will find you. They will always find you. All you have to do is survive until they get here.
Yes, he thought, but how damaged will I be when they get here? According to the rates of healing what came first with Jeff Greige? The surface burns, of course, but where?
Stop it. Stop thinking about it.
For a moment Spencer paused. He wasn't a believer, but if there was something out there for a moment he gave thanks for his memory. Whatever was about to happen he could call up every moment of his time with Elizabeth, with his Mom, with the better parts of life and remember. No matter what, he had that. But if I regret anything in this moment, I regret not having more.
Then he set that aside and started a meticulous examination of the bars again.
Some unknown time later Spencer noticed Seaver slowly rousing in her cell. "Seaver," he hissed. "Seaver!" No luck yet. "Ashley! Ashley!" Finally she woke up and looked at her surroundings. "Ashely, stop!" He hissed again, hoping the sound wouldn't carry. "Calm down!"
"What?" She said, in a voice far too loud and high pitched for his liking. "Where are we? What's going on? Oh my God!"
"Ashley! Calm down!" He was still trying to keep his voice from carrying, but he had to break through her panic.
"Calm down? Calm down! We're in a cell and the Unsub is…"
"Cadet Seaver!" He snapped to interrupt her. "This is a direct order, all right! Chill out! The more time we have before he knows we're awake the better our chances." He went back to looking over the cell door.
"We have to get out of here!" She said, thankfully in a much quieter voice.
"I'm working on that. Do you have a hairpin?"
"What? No."
"A safety pin? Some jewelry? Anything?"
"No, I…I…no."
"Damn it." Nothing to use to pick the lock. "All right, look at me. Look at me. Come on." He waited until she locked eyes with him. "Jason Gideon always said the greatest weapon we have is a profile. And we had one going on this guy. So what do we know?"
"I don't…I don't…I don' know." She said, terror in every word.
"We know he likes to spend time with his victims, and that he likes to take his time in harming them. And look, we have food and water, which means he wants to keep us alive for a while. That means we have time for the team to find us, all right. And they will find us, they won't stop looking. All we have to do is survive."
"But what's he going to do to us?"
Spencer had been trying not to think about that. It's not fair, damn it, "Probably a lot."
"Do you…do you know if he rapes his victims?"
Okay, doubly not fair. "I don't know, there was too much damage to be conclusive."
"What if…what if he does?"
"I'll give you the number of a great therapist."
"What?" Ashley snapped out of her panic a moment.
Great, Spencer thought, the only way to calm her down was to play true confessions. Guess what, almost Agent Seaver, I'm a rape survivor engaged to the most amazing girl who was too scared to actually lose his virginity the right way before he came on this trip and now the odds of having my penis burned off are fairly high, so I guess I missed my chance. Want to stop freaking out now? He was going to come up with something much more calming when a door opened further down the tunnel and footsteps started coming toward them.
He was trying to count steps, maybe figure out how far it was to the door when he heard Ashley panting. He looked over and realized it was nearly hyperventilating. He made a gesture to try to get her to knock it off, which meant he stopped paying attention to the footsteps, which meant that when he turned back the Unsub was there.
Wait, he thought, I missed something. How is he going to get me out of this cell?
A moment later something sharp bit his chest, all his muscles went rigid and he fell over.
It took a moment for his brain to actually kick over, but when it did he realized that the Unsub was standing there pointing something resembling a gun at him, except that instead of bullets two wires snaked out and were connected to his chest. Tazer, he realized, that's how he's getting me out of this cell.
In the time it took his muscles to come back on the Unsub had hauled him out of his cell and in to the restraint chair. He was strapped down at the ankles, thighs, waist, chest, upper arms, wrists and lastly his head. He literally couldn't move more than an inch. Now it was his turn to panic. "Look, I know why you're doing this. You're doing this to get back at her and to get back at him for what they did to you. But we're not them, and hurting us isn't going to change what they are doing."
The Unsub had strapped him down with his left arm strapped to the chair arm, palm down, elbow at a ninety degree angle, tucked in close to his body. His right arm was palm up, pulled out, strapped to an extension that came off the side of the chair. "A demonstration of what will happen if she touches you again." The Unsub said as he carefully rolled up Spencer's shirt sleeve, revealing clean, ivory skin and the slight, pink scars left from a needle
"No. Listen to me, please." The Unsub took a sponge and swiped it along his arm, leaving it damp. "We're not even lovers, we work together, please!" He pulled on gloves and tucked some towels between his arm and the wooden chair underneath. "This isn't going to make it better for you, I swear! Please!"
He shook the fine powder over that clean, damp skin.
Elizabeth tucked her arm under his as they walked out of the National Cathedral.
His skin started to get warm.
He watched Tobias slide the needle home
He watched it start to bubble, to blister
He wrapped his arms around his Mom as she read to him.
His skin started to burn as the blisters turned red.
He stepped up behind Elizabeth and pulled her into his arms.
He started to scream.
