Chapter 2 - Rachel DuValle - II

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  It was a bright cheerful morning in April, a few weeks later, and Rachel DuValle was late for class.

  To some this may have been of little consequence, but for a responsible adult like Rachel—with goals and ambitions far exceeding her humble upbringing—it was a calamitous event. Rachel was never late to class. She took great pride in it. In the twenty-two years she'd been alive, she'd never once been more than one minute late to any obligations. Then again, in those same twenty-two years, Rachel had never once dealt with a problem quite like this one.

  "How on earth did you even manage this?" she asked exasperatedly.

  "Look, just help me down, all right?" Will shot back grumpily.

  Rachel sighed. "Who did you piss off?" She pulled at one rope experimentally. It was perfectly taut, not a millimeter of slack remaining. As she touched one strand it shook slightly, sending Will wobbling right along with it. He groaned from the movement as it sent him bouncing dizzily through the air.

  William Carbonell, age twenty-three and the former technology guru of Rallsburg State University, presently suspended by a tight web of ropes and sheets some five feet in the air above the small living room. She plucked experimentally at a rope, which was taut and strong holding up Will's six foot stocky frame. With his muscles and well-chiseled face, he could be one of the most handsome guys on campus—if only he would get rid of the shoulder-length hair and stubble. He looked like he was just coming home from a headbanger concert every time she saw him.

  Rachel glanced around her apartment, looking for anything that might get him down easily. Neatly stacked books and papers, several laptops, and a large whiteboard with long lists of names and hierarchies, but nothing that seemed remotely helpful. Rachel went into the kitchen and retrieved a serrated knife just as Will finally mumbled a name.

  "Again, with feeling."

  "It was Viper, okay?"

  Rachel stopped short of cutting the nearest strand of rope and gave him a stern look. "You invited that psycho into our apartment?"

  "Hell no!" Will snapped. "But he's not really the kind of guy you can just say no to."

  "I do all the time," Rachel folded her arms, frowning.

  Will shook his head. "You're much braver than me, honey. Now can you get me down please?"

  "What did he want?"

  "Wanted to know if we knew anything about his stuff being stolen. Only got him to leave when I convinced him you wouldn't be home for hours."

  Rachel shook her head, exasperated, but began to saw at the rope with the scissors all the same. It was tough, military-grade stuff—unsurprising given the culprit. As she finally worked through the first few strands, Will began to rise higher toward the ceiling. He let out a yelp of pain.

  Fear pulsed through her entire body, as panicked visions of her beloved's body twisting all out of proportion from the ropes surged through her mind. She stopped dead, not daring to move the blade another inch.

  "What happened?"

  "Rope's twisting at my leg. You cutting it just made it worse." He looked down at it, face creased in fear.

  "How about I call an expert?" Rachel pulled out her phone and started dialing.

  "Wait!"

  "What?"

  "Are you calling Mason? Please don't say you're calling Mason."

  "You got a better idea?" Rachel pointed out, now with a ringing phone in her ear. Will groaned. She held the phone to her ear with her shoulder, grasping Will's hand with her own tightly. He took hold gratefully. "Don't worry, Will. Mason'll have you out of there in no time at all," she said comfortingly, as the phone in her ear clicked on.

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