Jordan refused to blink. She needed to seem strong, invincable. And even though her eyes were watering and her heart was hammering against her rib cage, not once did her eye lids meet the bottom of her eyes. Only after he bean talking again did she allow herself to close her eyes, though only momentarily.
"Glad to see you've made it here in one piece," he said, he voice more menacing then ever.
"Now why exactly would you want that? I mean, if you're after revenge, why would you want me here safe?" she asked, masking her trembeling voice with hatred.
"Well, the answer to that is simple," he began. "We leave the torture and killing to the man who requested your being here. We each get to inflict the same amount of pain as was inflicted upon us to the people who put us away. You are not mine, therefor you have to wait until Carlos Montgomery is ready for you. That time is not now," he finfished with a smirk.
Jordan wanted to say so many things and it was killing her to keep them inside. But she figured it would be better to be killed by not talking then to be pounded to a pulp or worse by saying some smart-ass remark. Oh, eventually it would all come spilling out, but not right now, not while she knew so little.
"SO then what can I help you with?" she asked with mock sincerity.
He didnt relpy but walked across the room, the sound of his hard, leather boots echoing off the stone walls. When he reached her, she stood her ground. She didnt blink, she didnt even flinch when he grabbed her arm, hard, with his rough, dirty hands and dragged her over to the door, slamming it shut behind them. Even then he didnt answer her, but at least Jordan had a little more sense of where she was. She was being led down a narrow corridor, no windows, hardly any light. The only light was coming from torches set in brackets eery so often along the walls, the flames flickering as they passed. Jordan felt as though she was in something out of the movies, or at least the eighteen hundreds. She let him drag her into a room at the end of the corridor where a man was standing, half his face in shadows. The body builder-sized man finally let go of her arm and threw her farther into the room where she was locked in. She studdied the new room where she was in. It was identical to the other room she had just come from. Absolutly nothing to help with her location.
"Ah Dr. Cavanaugh, long time no see," he said. Jordan still couldnt see the other half of his face.
"Why dont you come out of the shadows? Or are you afraid?" she asked, her voice dripping with hatred.
With half his mouth curled up in a smirk, he stepped into the light, Jordan instantly regreting her demand. He saw the look on her face when he emerged into the light. She had flinched. Bt it was hard not to. What she saw was sickening yet heartbreaking, even though the man was standing there with a gun in his hand, threatening to make an attempt on her life. The side of his face that had been in the shadows was burned beyond recognition. The white of his eyes was black, blending in with the rest of his eye, giving the apperance of a black, empty socket. His lips were gone, or at least as gone as you could get. His cheek was entirely black, burnt to a crisp. And as for his ear, what ear? There was nothing there. Jordan gasped, then clasped her hand over her mouth.
"Retched isn't it?" he asked her.
Jordan didnt relpy.
"You see this?" he asked, pointing to the burnt side of his face. "This is because of you," he said.
Jordan finally regained her composure. "Me? How is that? I'm not the one that burnt off half your face," she said.
"Oh no? Actually you are. Your testimony put me behind bars. And in prison, being an accomplice to the murder of an extremly popular and wealthy woman isnt praise worthy. One of the prisoners got ahold of a lighter and...POOF! Half my face went up in a ball of fire. All thanks to you Miss Cavanaugh," he said.
"Actually, I prefer Dr Cavanaugh," she replied.
The remark got her a smash on the head with the butt of the gun and before she could help it, she colapsed in a heap on the ground.
oooooooooooo
Woody and Garret hopped into Woodys patrol car and sped faster then they ever had to the middle of nowhere, Woody at the wheel of course. Neither one had said a word to eachother sice getting in the car. They were both to pumped up on adreneline and worry to talk. They had raced out of the morgue after recieving a possible lead, Woody calling in for backup as he sped along the highway.
"Woody slow down," Garret said. "The last thing we need is two more bodies,"
Woody slowed down, but only just enough so that he could turn at look at Garret every couple of seconds. "So you think she's dead?" Woody asked, concern etched into every sylable.
Garret sighed. "Woody... I really don't know. I just dont wanna get my hopes up, only to have them come crashing down around me when..if..she's dead. It hurts too much. Sometimes it's just easier to assume that she's no longer alive," he said.
Woody couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You're serious?" he asked.
"Yes I'm serious. And I think that maybe you should do the same Hoyt. Just assume so that if she's dead, it'll be easier to pick up the pieces. Now I' not saying to give up hope, because without hope we have nothing, but just try to see it like I do,"
"No. I would have sensed something if she was dead. Don't you think that, after knowing her for this long and being this close with her, one of us would have sensed it? Been able to tell that she was in trouble?" Woody asked, refusing to give up the one thing he was holding on to tighter and tighter with every passing moment; hope.
Garret sighed, slightly admiring yet slightly annoyed with the hope that Woody was clinging to.
"Alright Hoyt. Hold on to her. And don't let go,"Garret said, his eyes never leaving the road ahead of them.
"We're almost there," Woody said, changing the subject, a relief to them both.
"Woody what exactly are we gonna do when we get there, scour the bog for a laptop?" Garret asked, trying to put some humor in the situation.
Woody just threw him a look.
"Ok, fine. But seriously Hoyt, what's the plan?"
"I don't know Garret. I really dont. Maybe we'll fine some sort of hut or cabin that someone built there, or a scrap of paper with an adress that we can look at. Something. Anything. The uncertainty is killing me," Woody said.
"Well enough with the maybe's," Garret said, "We're here," he finished as they pulled up into the parking lot of the bog. Woody looked around, backup wasn't there yet.
"I'm not waiting Macy. I going without them. Are you with me or not?" Woody asked.
Garret looked around uncertainly, as though something in the sky was going to answer Woody for him.
"Somtime today Macy! Stop stalling," and without waiting for an actual answer, Woody walked off, leaving Garret to come running after him.
ooooooooooo
Jordan peeled her aching body off the hard floor, proping herself up on her elbows. She looked around the room, realising that she was back in her origial cell, Veronica sitting beside her, waiting for her to wake up.
"Hey sleepy head," she told her, grabbing her elbow and helping Jordan to a sitting position. "How's the head?"
In a sitting position, Jordan could feel the full extent of her throbbing head. She had a concusion, there was no doubt about it.
"How long have I been out?" Jordan asked, gently running her fingers through her hair, careful to avoid contact with her scalp.
"A couple hours. They dumped you back in here only twenty minutes after they took you out. You've been out since. It looks like they did a number on you. What weapon of choice did they use?" she asked. Jordan could hear the sincere concern in her voice.
"The butt of a gun," Jordan replied.
"How origanal," Veronica said, causing Jordan to let out a little laugh.
"Normally they use far more slow and painful methods. German finger traps, bear traps, quite cruel really," Veronica said.
"No, really?" Jordan asked, her voice dripping with scarcasm. This time it was Veronicas turn to laugh.
"You ok?" she asked Jordan.
"Ya. I'll be fine. Just as soon as I get out of this place,"
ooooooooooo
Woody and Garret pulled on their boots and waded through the bog, Woody pulling and pushing aside every weed and tumble to look for anything suspicious. Garret was doing the same. With determination even Jordan would admire, they searched tirelessly, never giving up their search. After four hours of seaching, Woody finally found something useful. Up until then, all they had found was a rubber boot, a empty bag of pot, some old soup cans, a cardboard box full of used tissues, and a plastic knife and fork. Woody bent down oer his newest discovery. At first glance, it looked like nothing more than a large piece of flat wood, pressing the reeds into the ground with its' weight. But Woody was smarter than that. He bent down, shoving his fingers under the board and prying it up from the mud and muck. What lay under the piece of wood was puzzeling. Woody looked up at Garret who was watching from over his shoulder. His expression was one of wonder. Woody looked back down to the mud. What lay under the wood was another board, this one looked like a part of the ground. It was a fairly big peice of wood, slightly smaller then the one that was once on top of it, but big enough for a fairly large man to fit through. Only this peice of wood had a handle on it. Woody took another look at Garret who nodded in encouragement. Woody looked back down at the ground and grasped the rope handle in his hand, pulled, and the board sprang up. Woody looked down. Where the wood had been, there was now a hole, a big, gapping hole. On the side of one of the walls, a rope ladder was thrown down into the black oblivion. Woody stared down it, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark.
"I'm going down Garret," Woody said.
"No. No way Hoyt. Backup isnt here yet. I'm not letting you go down there alone," Garret said. Then it dawned on him. "...You didn't call backup did you Woody?" Garret asked.
Woody looked guilitily up at Garret. He got his answer.
"Then come with me," Woody said.
Garret sighed but gave in. The pleading look on Woodys face was killing him. Garret withdrew a flashlight from his bag and handed it to Woody. He took it gratfully and heaved himself carefully down the hole, finding each step with his feet. A few feet below, Jordan and Veroica looked up, hearing a clanking.