“Show me,” I finally manage to burst out. “Show me, let me see it, right now!”
“Show you what?” Michael moves even closer to the door. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Show me the video,” I growl. “Show me the fucking video right now! Show it to me.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. The decision has been made that it’s better if you don’t.”
“Fuck the decision!” Temper bubbles and boils within me. “Let me fucking see. This is my girlfriend, my decision, so you will God damn well show me this video right now! I won’t hear anything else about it.”
Michael shakes all over, he’s so nervous that it amps up my emotions even more. It must be dreadful. But that just makes it even more vital I see it. I can’t bury my head in the sand any longer, learning things from other people. I need to know for myself. I cannot let this go another second longer. It isn’t right.
Michael steps shakily towards my computer, it’s obvious he doesn’t want to do this. I push his shoulder, unable to think about his wishes right now. I need to see what’s out there for the world to see.
“It’s distressing,” he tells me nervously. “I don’t know if you’re really going to want to see it.”
“Would you?” I snap back. “Would you want to see if it involved the love of your life? And don’t bullshit me and tell me you wouldn’t. I need to see it. I don’t know what’s going on with her at all and I have to find out.”
I tap my fingers angrily against the desk while my heart hammers against my rib cage. Michael seems to take forever to sort it out, by which time I’m about ready to throw the hell up. The scenarios that my brain is coming up with must be worse than the truth. There’s no way so many terrible things are happening to her.
Oh God, what have I done? I tug on the ends of my hair while I pace the room. How did I let Veronica leave on such bad terms? Why didn’t I just take her to the airport and tell her that I love her one last time?
It all seems so petty now. The emotions I fought so hard to hold on to now feel worthless. Why was it so important for me to be right? I must be the biggest fucking idiot on the whole damn planet. I hate myself.
“Okay.” Michael takes a step back. His eyes are so dark it’s almost like the video is playing in his mind before I even hit the button to bring it to life. “It’s here now. I’ll just wait over there in case you need me.”
I think I’m going to need him when all of this is done. But for now, I just nod and take tentative steps over to the PC. Now that it’s there for me to see, I’m not too sure that I want to see it after all. It might scare me. The images I see may well stick with me forever and cause some serious stress. If it weren’t Veronica, I would be about ready to change my mind. But I have to do this, for her. It’s the only way.
I take my seat and dart my eyes towards Michael. He’s pointedly looking away from me, he doesn’t want to see this destroy me. Nerves zip zap through me, bolting through my heart. My lungs actually ache from just trying to breathe. Nothing I’ve ever been through before has been as scary as this, I would fight in a million wars again not to have to go through this. It takes all my will power to press that damn play button.
The image which comes to life makes me sick. It’s in a dirty cell which looks like it could be in a cave and Veronica is sitting on her knees in the middle of it. All I want to do is reach out and grab her but I can’t. She’s too far away. She’
s dirty, covered in dust, and she has a scar down her face. Her clothes are covered in blood but it doesn’t look like hers. I can only begin to imagine what she’s seen. Death, for sure. Probably the people in her life who went with her. Christopher, probably. The guy I’ve been stupidly jealous of. Like a petty idiot.
The camera zooms in showing me her pale and sickly face. The strain is written right across her. She clings onto a newspaper with yesterday’s date on it in her trembling fingers and she begins to speak out the words that I imagine have been droned into her by one of the assholes who has her.
“My… my name is Veronica Best.” The tears stream down her face. “I work for… for channel six news. And I… I’ve been captured. My… my crew have all been killed and I’m next.” I feel my insides melt. I don’t know if I’m even sitting upright. “I have been informed that I will be decapitated unless the government sends one million dollars.” Her expression crumbles. She knows this isn’t going to happen as much as I do. She isn’t even a prominent figure so I have no idea why the Taliban think anyone will make this happen. “You have ten days.”
After this statement, a man grabs her on the back of the neck and mimes chopping Veronica’s head off with a smirk on his face. I punch down on the desk hard because I can’t actually hit him. The man on the video talks some more but I can’t understand it. Nor do I need to hear it. I know the gist now, the most important thing. I know that Veronica is in danger, so what the fuck else can matter? She needs me now, and I’m here.
If I don’t do something, then Veronica will die. She’s going to be murdered in the worst way.
I try to stand, to take some action, but I don’t quite manage it because as soon as I put any weight on my legs I feel them crumble. I immediately tumble to the ground, hitting my head on the edge of my desk as I fall. The world pinholes, it becomes a small circle that gets tinier by the minute. This is the absolute worst time in the world to lose my consciousness, Veronica is out there needing me badly, but it’s happening anyway. My eyes are closing, my brain is shutting down, the world is vanishing from me. The last images flickering through my mind as the blackness claims me is Veronica sitting in that dusty cell all by herself, frightened and lost.
21
Veronica
I blink my eyes open as light filters through the cracks in my eyes. For one glorious moment, I feel like I’m in my bed, back in America where I should have been all this time. I imagine Jordan is next to me with his arms tightly wound around me, and that we haven’t had even a scrap of problems. It’s all so wonderful. I must have been dreaming about it because the picture is crystal clear in my mind. I really don’t want to let it go…
Even less so when the pain radiates through my head from resting it on the hard rock of the ground. It’s a miracle that I’ve managed to get any sleep during the time I’ve been here – however long that might be – but I suppose that’s just because I’m so exhausted. Physically and emotionally. Being a prisoner in a terrorist camp is hell. It’s unpleasant, it’s uncomfortable, it’s fucking terrifying. I keep trying to think that I’m lucky. Aside from being forced to witness my friends all die and being forced to make the video, nothing too bad has happened to me. I haven’t been beaten or attacked like I thought I would. I assumed I might have to fight to keep my clothes on the whole time I’m here, but it hasn’t been that way. I haven’t had to defend myself at all. I’ve even been given water and scraps of things to eat along the way. My appetite just isn’t there, but I suppose I’m being taken care of. I just wonder why. What’s the purpose of keeping me here? Do they think I’m important? I want to let them know that there isn’t any government in the world who will pay a million dollars for me, but once they learn that then I’ll be disposable and they might just kill me. I don’t want to end up dead, not like this.
But then… would I be better off dead? I mean, I don’t know if anyone’s even seen that video yet. Maybe it hasn’t been distributed or no one’s seen it. If they have, I know nothing will happen. I won’t be saved. Maybe Christopher and the others are the lucky ones because their lives ended quickly. They won’t have this agony. Being alive is just prolonging the inevitable anyway, isn’t it? I should just give up and let them take me.
“Oh, Jordan,” I mutter to myself as I finally sit upright. My body is stiff, it hurts, but I can’t lie down forever. If I do, I know that I’ll never give up. I’m not quite at that place yet. “Oh, I miss you. I miss you so damn much.”
He’s the one person who’s keeping me going, despite the fact that he’s out there in the world hating me somewhere. His face, the love we once shared, that’s the only thing keeping me alive. I can’t help wanting to see him again, even if it’s impossible. Just to tell him that he was right. I shouldn’t have come. I should’ve listened.
When I remember all those times he yelled at me and I thought he was being stubborn, all the times I got mad because I thought he wasn’t listening to me… now I can see that he just had my best interests at heart.