“It’s clear,” I call out and then glance back down the hall. One man stays behind with Evan while another eats up the distance in long strides, his gun still drawn but held close by his hip. Two more follow him, each on high alert. “I believe she’s down here,” I say and motion with my chin in the direction Marcus took, before looking back over my shoulder to hear one of the men by Evan call for a medic. “I think I heard her down the right tunnel.”
“Where’s your radio?” the guy closest to me asks, his brow pinched. I hesitate to answer.
“I lost it … I … forgot it.”
Shaking his head slightly, I ignore the questions that cloud his eyes. The ones I’ll have to face about the lack of following protocol.
“This way.” I give him the command but about halfway down the hall, I already know what I’ll find. The door is open, the light shining a stripe across the freezing cold tunnel and it’s far too quiet.
Opening the door wider, it creaks an eerie sound.
“She’s not here,” he tells me, and then calls out orders. The sound of the radio, followed by droning voices giving commands, all fades to white noise.
He took her.
As the men gather and split off to head down different tunnels, I already know they’ll be long gone before the search is done. It all feels unreal as I pull out my phone, ignoring the orders of men superior to me.
It only takes ten minutes before the place is cleared. Five after that for my phone to ping while I’m fielding questions and watching my partner slowly being brought back to consciousness. It all blurs to nothing, the motions not determined by my conscience.
I stare down at my text: Where are you?
But more importantly, his response: Nowhere you’ll find us.
“You weren’t supposed to be there. What part of ‘go home’ didn’t you understand?” my boss hisses on the other end of the phone. “How did you even get this information? It’s not in our system.”
I can barely pay attention to him as I meet Evan’s gaze while his head is being bandaged at the back of the ambulance. The look in his eyes is telling.
“Skov is asking questions and I have to go into the precinct. I don’t know what to tell them, Walsh. What did you get yourself into?”
I opt to hang up the phone rather than answer. The reality of it all slowly chills me to the marrow of my bones.
The look of contempt on Evan’s face gives away everything he’s thinking when I walk over to apologize. Although I still can’t tell him everything. There’s no way I ever could.
I don’t have to guess what he’ll say when I finally make my way to him, every consequence berating me one by one. “You need to tell me the truth, or I will tell them what happened.”
Marcus
She slept the entire three-hour drive back home. I didn’t look back, I didn’t listen to anything but the steady sound of her breathing and the hum of the engine.
With her in and out of consciousness, I cared for her how I’ve cared for myself too many damn times over the years. The makeshift ER in the basement is constantly restocked. These walls could tell endless stories about the faint scars of bullet wounds and broken bones that were mended in this room.
Riggins sent the doc, the only one I’ve ever trusted, who assured me none of her ribs were broken. The bruises that wrap along her torso send even more fury through me that Brass was given death so easily. I wish I’d been the one to take his life.
More than anything, she needed sleep. For fourteen hours, I watched her do nothing but rest while IVs gave her fluids and pain meds. She’s badly beaten, but she’s not broken. Not according to the doctor, but there’s a different kind of brokenness that can go unseen.
A dark bruise rimmed with blue lines her jaw, trailing down her throat and it matches the other ones all over her body. I’m careful, with the sun setting on the second day, as I carry her to my bedroom, letting her rest in a more comfortable place. Slowly stripping away the dirty clothes reveals inch after inch of bruised flesh. Her perfectly caramel skin is tainted with shades of purple.
A whimper slips from her as her neck arches and pain strikes across her face when I pull the last piece, her bra, down her body. “I’m sorry,” I whisper with every ounce of sincerity and I toss the bloodstained garment to the pile on the floor.
She’s still in need of a deep sleep, but her eyes part just slightly and then she blinks, widening them and taking in a sudden breath.