"POLICE! Open up!"
The shouts, followed by an incessant pounding of fists on the door, stops Rahul and Brennan cold in their spots. They completely freeze. Then Rahul turns his attention from the direction of the front door and glares at me with a look that displays his assumptions in his dark brown eyes.
"You told..." he says in a low, gruff voice as he begins a slow, menacing walk toward the bed onto which I've been thrown. "Who did you tell?" I shake my head vigorously, denying the accusation that I've ever told anyone. "You think you're so smart, don't you? Refusing to talk for me so I'd assume you wouldn't rat."
I swallow hard when he reaches me, resisting the urge to attempt to fight back. The only result of fighting back is more pain. It's useless.
The banging on the door continues but is significantly louder now.
"Boss," Keaton says, poking his head into the room, "they'll be breaking the door down any second now! What do you want us to do?"
Rahul responds with a heavy sigh. "Gather the men and have them leave out the back door, but make sure they leave at least two trucks behind." He reaches into his pocket, causing tears to instantly spring to my eyes. My left foot makes a slight, involuntary movement at the memory of my last attempt at escaping. It was my third try.
The pain in that foot makes it seem as if it was only yesterday... I'm not even sure what day it is, much less what day it was that the very knife he holds in his hand now was being pressed into my foot. It was my punishment for trying to run away, and it achieved what he was hoping it would. I haven't tried since.
"I've always been curious to know what you would look like with pierced ears," Rahul says, repeatedly turning the knife over in his hand. The blade shines brightly, reflecting the light from the fan above us. "Shall we find out?" No longer able to look at the weapon, I lower my head, which I shake once again. "That's a good girl. So you're going to tell me who it is you told?"
But I haven't told anyone...
I try to force my lips to form the words I want, but all they do is tremble.
Rahul makes a long, rumbling sound in the back of his throat as he pulls his fist back, his hand still wrapped around the handle of the knife. My eyes widen, and I begin to shake in fear. He knows how much he can get me to do by showing me a blade or a firearm. Now, all he wants is for me to tell him who I told. I honestly haven't told anyone, but after all these years of silence, I can't seem to find my voice.
Suddenly, Rahul's fist comes flying toward me, knife and all, so I quickly duck to the right, wincing at the sound of the wood splitting to my left. I bend my knees up, which brings my feet toward the rest of my body in the process, then twist myself and kick as hard as I can. I successfully send him to the ground. As soon as he jumps back onto his feet and aims the dagger at me again, I roll over several times until I'm off this low bed, deciding that falling off – even onto the wooden floor – won't hurt nearly as much as the blade. All I need is common sense, but I also have experience.
"Boss, they're in the house!" Keaton whispers. With newfound hope, I try desperately to break free of the rope around my wrists and legs. Surely there has to be some way...
Brennan appears above me all of a sudden. He reaches down and, grabbing my arms, pulls me up.
"Put her in the closet and turn the electric fence thing on," Rahul orders. "Most brilliant idea you've ever had, Bren."
Gripping my arms tightly, Brennan walks me over to the closet, which Rahul opens on our way. I limp all the way there, my left foot still aching while my right leg is still in the healing process after having been broken.
From inside the closet, I hear Rahul say, "Brennan and Keaton, you two hide under the bed. I'll find my own place. And if the girl makes one noise – even if it's so much as a sneeze, you have my permission to do away with her. There'll be plenty more."
Silence follows. A long, agonizing period of silence. Will the police give up? What if Rahul kills them all? What if...
"Have a look under the bed," I hear someone whisper. This voice I don't recognize.
Silence again. What breaks it is the deafening explosion-like sound of a gunshot. It's followed by several more.
I try to peek through the space in the closet door, but all I see out there is complete blackness, much like in here. When the shooting stops, I step to the side, wanting – yet not wanting – to know if today will be the day I've been waiting for... for years. The moment I put my foot down, I find that I've set it on something. The pain and surprise caused by the object makes my knee buckle, and I immediately fall to the floor, my head hitting the wall on my way down.
"Someone's in the closet. In case it's not her, I need you three to be ready."
"Wait!"
"What?"
"That box right there..." is whispered. "I think there's been some sort of electric fence installed on the door. Let me see it."
"Careful, Hastings. You never know... It could be a bomb."
"I know," the man replies. "I never would have signed up with the USRT if I'd let the mere possibility of a bomb stop me."
"All right... Just don't let teenage brain get in the way."
"Always picking on the youngest in a bunch, I see."
The buzz of the electric box as it is being powered off fills me with relief, but at the same time I become anxious. What if these men aren't who they say they are? And even if they are...? They're probably here for their share. Rahul did tell me that others would be coming. Now these men who claim to be the police have shot and killed Brennan and Keaton so they could have me to themselves. Knowing Rahul, he's already escaped, but he'll be back. He'll be back for me, and when he discovers that I'm not here...
The door opens quickly, and a man in a dark blue uniform looks in with squinted eyes. He doesn't look a day past the age of nineteen. His searching blue eyes sweep their gaze across the closet from the opposite wall until they land on me. Turning to look outside of the closet, he says, "I think we've found her."
