Her eyes opened slowly, while her ears were trained to the silence in her own home. It was almost an eerie silence, compared to the sereneness that had been there.
Looking around, she noticed the blinking light on her phone, telling her that she had missed one or many calls. The note beside it was probably from Larry, considering that he wasn't sitting beside her any longer. The blanket that had been draped over the chair was now ruffled. Charlee was hiding underneath it, which means something had frightened her. Just like the threat to the untrained eye, Charlee was safe for now; just long enough until the connection clicked that she was there.
Reaching underneath the couch, she slipped her hand underneath into the secret compartment and pulled out her gun. Taking it off the safety lock, Megan crept over to the recliner. "Meadow." Whispering the key word, she saw the blanket move and then Charlee appeared.
The corner of her lips turned up into a relieved smile. "Megan." She whispered, her expression relaxing slightly. Eyes training on the gun, she sat up and gazed back at her. "Did you hear it too?" Megan nodded silently, ear trained towards the kitchen. It was hard to hear at first, but instinct was correct: there were footsteps coming towards them. Charlee gasped, tugging on the corner of her shirt urgently as she helped her down from the recliner.
Megan crouched down, putting her hand down on her shoulder. She hoped that the little girl couldn't hear her heart pounding against her chest. "Just like you did last time. I need you to hide."
Knuckles white, Charlee held onto her shirt even tighter. She shook her head in disagreement. "I want you to come with me." The footsteps grew closer. "Please—just come with me." Standing there looking into her eyes, Megan sighed and relented, following her up the stairs. It was scary how quiet their footsteps were as they went up the stairs. Her gun was trained on the kitchen door as it began to open. In the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the man she never wanted to see and her blood ran cold.
He had caught sight of them too as their pace quickened. A bullet whizzed past them into the wall where they had been just seconds before. Megan shot back and it went into one of the lamps, shattering it with a resounding echo as they went up the stairs. "Come on." Pulling on her hand that she had quickly taken a hold of before departing, Charlee was now tugging on it and they were headed towards the guest room.
In the days that Charlee had been here, she had never willingly gone into the guest room, unless she was tired of the couch. Megan knew that under the bed wasn't an option, but there was no time to turn back now. She pushed open the door and brought them to the closet. At first Megan was a little hesitant, hiding behind a bunch of clothes wouldn't keep them hidden, but then again, when Charlee pushed back the clothes and ushered her to follow, she pried open an old panel; revealing a hidden room.
Forgetting that it was there, they exchanged a glance. A half smile on her lips, it faded as they could hear Joe Carlos stalking around. He even uttered something in the likes of "come out, come out, wherever you are. Grandpa's here now." Megan could just imagine him checking every room; which would definitely buy them a little time, but not for long. Gesturing to her with a wave of her hand, Charlee disappeared.
Covering their tracks, Megan adjusted all the clothes—thanking the fact that she hadn't gone through all her old clothes and given them to the DI yet—and closed the panel. She barely had time to admire the hidden room that she had forgotten about as her eyes focused around until she had found Charlee standing there, near a door. Then Megan realized what was behind that door; an old staircase that led down to her basement. For some reason, that was the only staircase that led down there. It was like a secret part of her house that no one knew about.
Well, almost. Charlee did. And if Joe Carlos found them, then he would too. Sure, she had been trained to kill if she needed to, but he was most certainly trained to kill them as well. And she knew that he wasn't afraid to take any measure to kill him either. His target was Charlee and she wouldn't let that little girl get hurt again, even if it killed her. This was what her training was for. If anything, it all came down to this moment. She wanted a reason to why she stayed so long with the FBI. Why she put herself on the line, time and time again. Well, this was it.
Charlee took a gasp in, trying to catch her breath. "Do you think he'll find us?"
"Not immediately." Megan answered, feeling slightly tired and nauseous. "But Charlee—he's a smart man."
"I guess." Looking away, she stared at the walls that were made up of wood panels. She swallowed hesitantly. "Megan, I don't want you to get killed too."
"Charlee, I will do everything to get us out of here." Hearing a screech of hangers scraping the metal bar, they silenced immediately. Instead of answering Megan took her hand and squeezed it tightly. "Come on, I want to show you something." Opening the door as the scraping got closer, the stairs were filled with darkness, cobwebs and dust clouds.
"What is this place?" Charlee inquired as she went hesitantly walked down a couple of stairs.
"This would be my basement." Scrunching her nose up, her hand brushed against the wooden railing. Megan hung out at the top of the stairs before closing the door and walking down. It definitely felt like a death trap. The only thing the last homeowners hadn't put in, were windows.
She looked up at the dust that had gathered and rubbed her hand against her jeans. "Your basement?" Inquiring, she jumped at the sound of the panel opening. It wouldn't be long before Joe Carlos would be after them.
Megan walked down a few stairs and grabbed her hand and down they went. Reaching another door, she unlocked it and they ran up the stairs to the backyard. Grabbing a few things to stick in front of the door, she instructed. "This time, I really need you to run Charlee."
"No . . . I'm not leaving you!" Charlee answered fearfully; hands clamped together tightly. A chill ran through her body as her breathing increasing rapidly. At this rate, the young girl was going to hyperventilate. Finishing the blockage on the door, Megan bent down again. "I don't want you to die!"
"Charlee, you need to breathe. I'm not going to leave you—ever." Running her hands through Charlee's hair, Megan noticed sweat running down her face. Haven't given it a second thought, at touch, she could now tell that the young girl was definitely feverish. For how long, she didn't know because she looked like she was fine, just a little while ago. "You're burning up!" Megan muttering to herself as she felt her cheeks and they were just as warm.
"Megan, I don't feel so good." Beginning to fidget, Megan took her into her arms. "I . . . don't want to die!"
"I'm not going to let anyone harm you ever again. You've been so brave and I need you to be brave for just a little while longer. Think you can do that for me?"
Her head rolled back so she was looking up at her, and Charlee nodded, close to tears. As she squeezed her eyes shut, a tear slipped down her cheek. "I think I can . . . I think I can."
The corner of Megan's lips turned up into a smile as she wiped away the tear and picked her up in her arms. "That's my girl." Beginning to head through the few trees that broke her backyard and her neighbor's Megan began walking at a quickened pace, then at a run when there was a rattling sound at the door. Slipping through the trees at an increased run, she heard the door finally break free, just as she passed into her neighbor's backyard; then gunfire broke out, but she realized it wasn't directed at them.
The missed calls on her phone must have been from Don, warning her about Joe Carlos coming after Charlee. The little girl in her arms was the last witness to his crimes, and now she could only hope that in one of those gun shots that rang through the air would end all of this—for the sake of Charlee, she didn't need to be hurt any longer. Or feel this afraid—for she had been through a lot more than the average human being would go through.
Looking down at her, Charlee was now still; eyes still closed. Megan knew that her body had physical limits, now that she was pregnant, but she was going to get Charlee as far away as possible. "Hang in there, Charlee." Swallowing the bile that was rising to her throat, she was increasingly losing strength.
"I think I can." Charlee mumbled tiredly, which made Megan quicken her pace slightly. Charlee was hanging in there, and so could she. Finally after a few minutes, they came in view of a kitchen window. She saw movement and caught sight of her neighbor. They exchanged a glance and soon the door opened. Her eyes widened at the gun in Megan's hand.
"Trouble in paradise?" She asked to break the tension.
Megan paused to catch her breath, looking at her tiredly. "Something like that." It was getting harder to walk and she knew that something was wrong. Apparently her neighbor saw that as well and took Charlee from her arms.
Her neighbor was a black belt in Krav Maga, and a FBI agent—yet Megan looked like she had just been hit by a steam roller. The thought was concerning. "Let's get you into the house." With that she ushered them in, taking a look around once, she made Megan go into the house and followed with the young girl before closing the door. Those same trees that Megan had brought Charlee through just moments before, began to rustle. It seems like someone had been following them after all.