Charlie had been taken.
Holy shit, Charlie was gone.
Charlie. Gone.
No. No!
I couldn’t lose him, not someone else, not again. Oh no, please not again.
28
Charlie Marsh
My brain had been scooped out and replaced with spiky iron balls. It was the only explanation for the intense throbbing waves of pain that consumed me by just trying to open my eyes. And that happened to be another pain in the ass, since even with my eyes open, my world was still plunged in pitch dark.
Blindfolded.
“Hargshjas—”
And gagged.
Panic pushed away the pain. I tried to stand but found that I was tied to whatever uncomfortable chair I sat on. The wood prodded at my back as I struggled, like bony fingers reminding me to stay put. My wrists were tied, too, pulling my arms back at an angle that threatened to pop my shoulder out of its socket. I could practically feel the phantom stitches from my accident snapping, as if the scar on my shoulder were splitting apart and reopening a years-old wound.
I struggled some more, hoping to feel a slackening in a wrist tie or an ankle. Instead of thrashing, I used my brain (as much as that hurt) and made my movements smaller, really trying to analyze which knots were the weakest.
It didn’t matter—none of the knots were slack. In fact, I was beginning to lose feeling in my hands from how tight the rough rope had been bound around my wrists.
That’s when I started to cry. Panic and adrenaline all gave way to gut-wrenching fear. This was it. My journey had come to an end; my train had reached its stop. Whatever I’d been running from these past few years had finally caught up with me, and I had nowhere to go. This stage was being put to an end.
Right when I had thought it was only just beginning.
Right when Austin and I had begun to feel invincible. Like the two of us could take on the world together and win whatever challenges it catapulted at us.
So much for that.
I sagged into the chair, my body stilling, the pain coming in less frequent waves if I didn’t move a muscle. I tried taking deep breaths, but the musty fabric that had been stuffed into my mouth made that near impossible. The electric pounding of my heart echoed in my ears, and I tried focusing on that, tried counting the beats and shifting my psyche so that I wasn’t controlled by fear. I couldn’t give up. I had to get out, I had to get back into Austin’s arms, I had to put an end to all of this.
Swoosh. Crash.
Swoosh. Crash.
It took me a second to realize I wasn’t hearing my own body, nor was my ear up to a conch shell. From somewhere nearby, I could hear the rhythmic sounds of waves breaking on the shore. It wasn’t very clear, like a window or two may have separated me from the ocean, but it was there. No doubt.
Okay, okay, maybe I can use that information somehow. Maybe I can—
Another sound made me freeze, as if I’d suddenly been dunked into frigid arctic waters.
Footsteps. Heavy, booted, walking across a creaky wood floor. Pace calm, relaxed. Getting closer, louder, the wood creaking loud just behind me before going completely silent.
I could sense the presence. If I had a pen and paper, I was sure I could draw their outline. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up, same as the hair on my arms.
I slowly turned my head. Even though I couldn’t see anything, I now had my ear aimed in the direction of the presence.
“Charlie, you’re awake. We can’t have that just yet.”
That voice… I recognized him! But there was no way—
“Sorry about another possible head trauma.”
A quick lightning strike of searing agony shot through the back of my skull before, even with the blindfold on, the world grew dark again.
29
Austin Romero
No, no, this can’t be happening.
It couldn’t. I ran over the glass, the pain barely registering against the titanic wall of panic. Outside. No one.
No, please, no, no, no.
There’s a moment in everyone’s life that they never forget. Possibly multiple moments. These are the moments driven by a crippling dread, imprinted into your brain with a stamp of pulsating fear.
This was one of those moments. Back inside. I called Charlie’s name, over and over, knowing I wouldn’t hear anything back. He’d been taken. I let it happen. Right under my nose. Fuck!
Fuck. No, please.
I couldn’t break the sequence, my brain jammed in a loop as I ran into the bedroom and threw on whatever clothes I could grab first. I froze, spotting bloody footprints, thinking they could be Charlie’s only to snap back to reality. I ran into the bathroom, threw the medicine cabinet open— no, no, fuck, please, Charlie, please be okay, fuck! Pill bottles clattered to the floor, rolled across the bloody streaks on the white-and-black tile. It took me seconds to wrap my foot, seconds more to take a gulp of water from the sink, swallowing what felt like a mouthful of sand and razor blades.