Chapter Three
One of the men grabbed her and flung her against the stockroom's shelves. She glimpsed her brother before the other man swiped duct tape over her eyes and mouth, forced her to sit on the cold concrete, and yanked her arms behind her. As he wrapped tape around her wrists, she felt some small gratitude that her brother didn't seem to be any more hurt, but that small hope was quickly swept away by the fear things were about to get much worse.
"Took you long enough to get rid of that guy," one of the men said.
"You see how big he was?" the other man said. "I'm glad we didn't have to deal with him."
"Size doesn't matter with a gun…Let's make sure no one else shows up…"
She heard the door click as they left the room. She heard a faint whimper from her brother, and she tried to call out to him to at least let him know she was in the room. She struggled to move towards him, but she'd moved only a few inches before the men returned.
"Now," one of them said. "We have some fun…"
Her heart pounded. She thought of the stranger with the kind, brown eyes. Maybe he'd called for help—maybe help was coming. She clung to that hope as the men yanked her to her feet and shoved her towards the table in the middle of the room.
"Think we'll be her first?" one of the men asked.
"Maybe," the other laughed. "She'll get the best."
She heard her little brother crying through his gag. There was a loud smack.
"Shut up, kid!"
The girl desperately lurched away from the man holding her. She stumbled and fell.
"Bitch!" Claws seized her, and a fist slammed into her face. The men lifted her and threw her on the table.
"No…No…No," she thought and fought wildly against the tape and the hands that held her.
"She's a wild one! This is going to be good!"
Fingers clawed at her, tearing at her shirt and skin.
"What the hell…"
He sat in the car and peered through the sheet of rain. He hoped he hadn't parked too close to the store or too much in the open. He'd already dialed 911, but his thumb hovered over the send button.
"I wouldn't have waited before," he thought. "I'd be sure of myself…But…But…what if they're right? What if I am a whack job? If I'm seeing things that aren't there? I wish Eames was here…I miss her so much…" He shook his head. "I know what I saw…The girl's in trouble…"
A figure in the store moved towards the door. It seemed to look furtively outside before fumbling with the door.
"That's not the girl," Bobby thought. The store's lights went out as he hit the send button on his phone.
It took several frustrating minutes to reach the local police dispatcher, and several more to explain the situation to her. Bobby hesitated to play the card of his work, but, with his eyes on the solitary light on in the back of the store, he finally revealed that he was involved in law enforcement in New York City. The dispatcher was sympathetic, but warned him that the county was big and the sheriff's department small. She promised to contact the state police, but warned him that the storm was stretching the resources of all the local public safety units. Frustrated, Bobby shut his phone.
"If she checks on me…finds out I'm suspended…she may not send anyone," Bobby thought. "And it's going to be some time before anyone gets here…And if it's just one deputy…" He stared at the solitary light, and punched a familiar number on his phone. His call went to her voice mail, and he only hoped that Eames wouldn't ignore him. He explained his situation and location as concisely as he could and ended the call with a plea for her help. He stared again at the solitary light and punched another familiar number. A machine picked up after the second ring, and Bobby again pleaded his case to Eames, this time to her home phone. He shut his phone, placed it on its lowest vibrating setting, slipped it into his pocket, and stared again at that light.
"It's up to me," he thought. "I've got to help her…whoever's in there…"
He pulled his backup piece and its small holster out of the glove compartment. He carefully clipped the holster and gun to his belt. He placed his cell phone in one of his pockets, and a small flashlight in one of his jacket's pockets. He took a deep breath. "I wish Eames was here," he thought again, and stepped out into the cold, wet, dark. He moved quickly and cautiously across the pavement behind the store. There was a small window, and, not for the first time in his life, Bobby thanked the powers that be for his height. He peered through the window, and saw a boy of twelve or thirteen lying on the concrete floor. Duct tape covered his eyes and mouth, and his hands and feet were taped. As Bobby watched, two men in ski masks shoved a struggling girl, her face also covered in tape, towards the room's center.
"Can't wait," Bobby thought. "She'll be hurt…Can't wait…"
The cold rain pelted him. He took a deep breath and looked at the back door's lock. "So…that's how they got in…" He scanned the building and found the box where the electrical wires hooked up to the main lines. He pulled his small revolver from its holster. "Damn," he thought as he tried to aim the gun through the rain and wind and waited for a lightning strike and the following thunder. "I really wish Eames was here."
"What happened to the light?"
The hands left her. She stopped struggling and tried to breath.
"Must be the storm…Power's out…"
There was a loud crash from the front of the store, followed by a series of equally loud sounds of destruction.
"The storm," one of the men said in a voice filled with fear.
"Maybe it's a tornado," the other said equally frightened.
The girl didn't care if there was a tornado. It couldn't be worse than what was already happening.
For several moments, only the sounds of the rain and wind and thunder reached her ears. Then another series of crashes came.
"Someone's out there!" one of the men shouted.
"Damn…Probably that big guy…We shoulda wasted him…C'mon…"
She heard the men rush out of the stockroom. She twisted and turned on the table and finally fell off. She hit the floor with a painful thump, and lay on the cold concrete and struggled not to cry. As her heart pounded and her body throbbed with pain, she realized her nose was bleeding. "No…No…No…I won't be able to breath…I'll suffocate…"
There was a rush of cold, wet air as the storm briefly invaded the room. A large hand gently touched her shoulder.
"Take it easy." It was the voice of the big stranger. "My name is Bobby…I'm going to help you."
End Chapter Three