The Gates of Byzantium

CHAPTER 26


JOSH




PROS AND CONS: What were they?

Pros: He was wide awake. He could hear, smell, see, and feel. He had recovered almost complete control over his arms and legs. He could also turn his head and see the rest of the incomplete ballroom.

Cons: Everything else. He was the only one awake and alert and able to do anything about their captivity. He was also bound with zip ties. The kind cops used instead of handcuffs. Strong stuff. His arms were basically glued together behind his back, his legs squeezed tight under him. He wasn’t going to break the zip ties. Cops around the world weren’t using them because they were easy to break. Besides, he was never the strongest person in the world before The Purge, and that hadn’t changed since.

Conclusion: We’re screwed.

It took an hour before he got all the feeling back in his hands and feet, which allowed him to really feel the tightness of the zip ties, and they hurt. Josh continued lying on his side, opening his eyes only when he was sure there were no islanders in the room. Thank God no one had come back in to check on them in the last hour.

The last person he had seen was Berg, still wearing the same LSU jersey, bringing Elise and Vera in, the girls in their nightgowns. He laid them down on the floor and zip-tied their hands and feet before leaving. After that, Josh only heard voices and footsteps in the hallway, coming and going periodically.

He remembered what Karen had said an hour ago: “Everything about this is stupid, but you should have gotten used to it by now.”

“Gotten used to it by now,” Karen had said.

They had done this before. Lured people to the island. Given them rooms, showers, indoor plumbing, food, air conditioning, and wine.

The wine!

He remembered how they were served during dinner. The trays of glasses already filled with red wine. Sarah and Sienna placing the wineglasses in front of each of them. They knew exactly who was getting which glass. Everyone drinking their wine throughout the night. But Josh only taking a sip or two. Was that why he was awake and everyone else wasn’t? Probably. Two and two got you four.

How did that conversation between Karen and Marcus go earlier?

“Karen,” Marcus had said, “maybe Tom’s right.”

“Yeah, I know he’s right,” Karen had answered. “That still doesn’t change the fact that it wants them.”

Then Marcus had sighed and said, “How long before they show up?”

“I don’t know, it didn’t say,” Karen had answered.

“It.” What was “it”?

Then Marcus had said “they.” How long before “they” showed up? Who was he referring to?

Whoever they were, Josh had a feeling he wasn’t going to like it when it and they finally showed up on the island.

There were two small windows near the ceiling, but it was too dark outside for him to see much of anything. It had to be midnight now, or just shortly after midnight. Running from darkness for the last eight months had given Josh an intuitive sense of time.

So how long before it and they arrived?

Josh managed to rock himself into a sitting position. His arms were stiff and tight against his sides and back, making moving difficult. In movies, he had seen people slide their arms under their butts and bring them forward, and it didn’t look particularly hard, or as if it required a whole lot of athleticism. Which was a good thing, because he didn’t have much athleticism to spare.

He looked down at his legs, at the zip ties wrapped tight against his ankles. So now what? He looked around him. The ballroom was big, and the lack of chairs and tables made it seem even more vast. No wonder every sound echoed in here. He had to be careful about any noises he made.


Sound travels these days.

Josh looked over at Gaby, lying on her side, unconscious, dirty blonde hair splayed behind her like a fan. Behind him, Will and Danny, Carly and Lara, and the girls all still asleep. All zip-tied like him, trussed up like animals waiting for slaughter. The imagery made him shiver, and he instantly regretted it.

Maybe he could wake Will up. Or Danny. They were a hell of a lot stronger than him, and they might have experience with this. Didn’t they teach Special Forces guys how to escape in the Army?

“Will,” Josh whispered. When that got him nothing, he said again, slightly louder this time, “Will, wake up, for God’s sake.”

Will remained on his side, eyes closed.

“Danny,” Josh said. When he got no reaction, he said again, slightly louder, “Danny, wake up. Wake up.”

The last two words echoed slightly in the room.

Shit. Too loud…

On cue, he heard footsteps coming from the door to his left, and quickly threw himself back down to the floor. He grunted as his cheek smacked into the cold concrete and pain shot through his temple.

Josh ignored the pain—or tried to, anyway—and closed his eyes. He willed his heartbeat to slow into a steady rhythm, but it was still chugging along a few seconds later when the door opened.

He braced himself at the sound of soft footsteps approaching. As the figure got closer, Josh realized his heart was still going too fast. He was sure he would be discovered, but the figure walked right past him. As it did, Josh opened his right eye a crack and saw pink tennis shoes flashing by.

The woman stopped a few feet from him, then stopped and walked back toward him—then turned at the last second and stepped out of his peripheral vision.

He couldn’t see her without moving, but she was very close, and he heard a soft female voice: “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

Sarah.

The single mother with the little girl. The same woman who had recorded the message in the broadcast that lured them to Song Island in the first place. Who, a few hours ago, was fighting back tears as she hugged Gaby in the kitchen. The same woman who had brought out the wineglasses used to drug them.

What the hell was she doing here? And who was she apologizing to?

Josh listened but didn’t hear anything else. He was sure Sarah was still there. He could feel her presence nearby. What was she doing? Crouching next to Gaby? The only way to find out for sure was to turn his head and look, but he was afraid she might feel him moving, just as he could feel her presence behind him.

A few seconds later, he heard the soft rustling of clothes, then footsteps as Sarah stood up and hurried off, back toward the door. Josh counted steps, listening to her getting farther and farther away, and his mind was suddenly in a frenzy.

Options. What options did he have? Not a whole damn lot.

Make a choice! You’re it! There’s no Will! No Danny!

You’re it!

So make a damn choice already!

“Sarah,” Josh said, and quickly struggled up from the floor into a sitting position.

She whirled around, startled by the sound of his voice. She was wearing the same clothes as last night, and there was shock and horror on her face. “You’re awake. You shouldn’t be awake.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“You can’t be awake,” she said again and quickly turned to go.

“Sarah, please wait,” Josh said, putting every ounce of desperation he could summon into his voice. He didn’t have to dig very deep.

She stopped and looked back at him again. He saw it all in her face—uncertainty, fear, and the thing that gave him the most hope—conflict. He was counting on that, on her not wanting to do this. Her apologies to Gaby a few seconds ago, her embarrassment when they had thanked her in the kitchen hours ago, all entered into his equation.

God, please don’t let me be wrong about her.

“What’s happening here, Sarah?” he asked, looking around, eyes wide. Sell the desperation. Sell it! “Please tell me what’s happening here?”

“You shouldn’t be awake.” Then, quickly, her voice falling a bit, “God, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t be awake. I have to tell them.”

“No, please don’t.”

She hesitated. He knew she wanted desperately to go, but something held her back. Something kept her standing there, looking back across the darkened room at him. Probably the same thing that had brought her here in the first place, even knowing Gaby would never know.

“They’re going to kill us, aren’t they?” he asked softly, keeping his voice low.

Sound travels these days.

“No,” she said.

“No?”

“No. We don’t…do that.” Her voice drifted off.

Josh lifted himself slightly up on his haunches and slid his zip-tied hands under his butt, then kept going along the length of his legs, and finally pulled them free. He was shocked it actually worked.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said, even more alarmed than before.

“They’re going to kill me if they see me like this, aren’t they?”

“No, but they might hurt you.”

“Help me, Sarah. Help us.”

She glanced over at Gaby, then at the others. “I can’t…”

“I know you don’t want this to happen.”

“I have no choice. Jenny…I have to look out for Jenny first.”

“Please, Sarah, don’t let them do this. I need your help. We all need your help. Gaby needs your help.”

“I have to go.”

This time she turned completely around and walked the short distance to the door.

“Sarah!” he shouted after her, raising his voice. He had no choice. He had to stop her. “Please! We’re going to die unless you help us! Don’t let this happen! You can stop this!”

She shook her head, but didn’t look back, didn’t stop, and before he knew it, she had opened the door and stepped through, closing it sharply behind her.

Wow, that didn’t work.

Josh sighed but didn’t look away from the door. A part of him expected to see it dramatically open back up and for Sarah to rush back inside.

But the door didn’t open.

Defeated, Josh lowered his arms back into his lap and listened to the silence in the ballroom. It was quiet, except for the soft breathing of the others behind him.

Gaby, next to him, soundlessly asleep, peaceful in her heavy, drug-induced slumber. And the girls, Elise and Vera, snoring farther in the back, unaware that the same people who fed them last night, that poured them cold soft drinks, were now plotting their death.

Or something worse than death. He could think of lots of worse things out there right now that didn’t involve dying.

“How long before they show up?” Marcus had asked.

Soon. Soon…

*

HE HAD NO other choice. Maybe Tom and the others had heard him imploring Sarah and were coming right now to make sure he went back to sleep—and this time stayed that way. Even if they weren’t, something else was coming for them.

Either way, he was still stuck in the same situation—shit out of luck.

He looked over at Gaby, then looked behind him at the others again. They hadn’t stirred, didn’t even look as if they had heard anything or were any closer to swimming up from whatever dreams or nightmares they were mired in at the moment. They certainly looked like sweet dreams, judging by the ghost of a smile on Gaby’s lips.

It had to be some kind of drug. Roofies, maybe. The date-rape drug he had heard about on the news. But he thought those drugs worked right away, not hours later. Something like roofies, maybe?


Whatever it was, it was effective. Except on him, because he was the only one who had barely touched his drink during dinner. Josh felt fully alert and wide awake now, and he tried to concentrate on the problem at hand. It was a hell of a problem, too. But he was a smart guy. He could think his way through this. Right? Of course he could.

We are so screwed.

He looked back at Will and Danny. What would they do in his position? Probably try to break the zip ties. How, though? These things were tough bastards. No. Strength wasn’t going to do it here. Will and Danny would know that. So what would they do if they couldn’t break something? How would a pair of ex-Army Rangers get around a problem like this?

God, he wished they would wake up already so he could ask them.

Josh took inventory of the room. It was big, and they had been deposited in the middle. There were no chairs or tables, and the big, expensive-looking chandelier above him wasn’t going to be much help. Most of the walls were still just Sheetrock, with electrical wiring sticking out everywhere.

He concentrated on his hands. His wrists were almost pressing against one another except for a half-inch space between the two loops, which were tightened by pulling the ends along a roller-lock system in the middle. The straps themselves were white, but the middle section, where the ends passed through, was solid black and looked like an ice cube.

He tried pulling at the zip but it didn’t budge. He gritted his teeth and tried again, this time even harder, but gave up after ten seconds of heavy straining. The zip tie hadn’t moved even a little bit. If anything, it felt like the straps had gotten tighter around his wrists. Was that even possible?

Josh stared at them for a moment.

He couldn’t break the straps, so maybe there was a way around them.

He stared at the plastic device for the longest time, trying to understand how the zip tie itself worked. Everything passed through the block in the center. That much was obvious. But the roller system meant the end of the straps only went one way, pulling the zip inward and around the wrist, and not the other way, which would loosen the straps. Loosening the straps was the goal. But how to achieve it? The retainer block was the key.

He lifted his hands toward him and eyeballed the retainer block up close. Could he break it? How? He could probably smash it with a hammer. If he had a hammer. But why wish for a hammer when he could wish for scissors and just cut the straps? He didn’t have a hammer or scissors, so what did he have?

Eureka!

Brawn wasn’t going to get him out of this, but brains helped him to see his little sliver of hope. Literally. There was just enough space between the strap and the interior walls of the block that if he had something small enough to insert there, he could loosen the roller and slide the strap back instead of forward. That was the key. Finding something small enough to push inside.

Josh glanced around the ballroom again. This time he didn’t think about the things the room didn’t have, but paid attention to what it did offer.

Plenty of debris. There was dirt and chipped wood and dust everywhere along the concrete floor around him.

Debris. That was where salvation lay.

The chipped wood, though small enough, wouldn’t work because the bits weren’t strong enough to affect the roller. So it had to be something small and strong.

*

HE FOUND IT almost by accident. He rolled onto his right side and there it was. A nail, lying in a small groove along the concrete floor. It was so small he would have missed it if he hadn’t laid his head down just a foot from it. It was brown and rusted over, but nails were nails, and they were usually strong.

Josh scrambled back up to a sitting position and picked up the nail. It was so small it almost slipped from his fingers.

He looked at the nail, then at the retainer block of the zip tie, before cautiously positioning the sharp point between the strap and the interior wall of the retainer block. With the ball of his forefinger, he pushed the nail in and felt both strap and block resisting. He pushed harder and felt pain against his finger. He kept pushing, almost willing the nail through the slot, and was finally rewarded when the nail sank a full quarter of the way down.

From there, it was easier to get the nail down another half inch. Then three quarters. With the nail now firmly lodged between the strap and the retainer block, Josh pushed his right wrist downward against the strap.

The strap didn’t move at first—then slowly but surely, it went down half an inch. That was enough for Josh to slip his right hand free, and he had to restrain himself from shouting out in triumph.

Suck on that, mofos!

He hurriedly pulled the nail out of the retainer block and used it to free his left hand. He did the same to the zip tie around his ankles, then pushed himself to his feet. He did it too fast and stumbled, almost fell, but caught himself on his knees just in time. He got up again, this time more slowly.

Nail in hand, Josh hurried over to Will. He thought about freeing Gaby first, but that was the soft, gooey part of him talking. The tough, hardened part of him knew he needed help. Freed or not, he wasn’t going to be able to take on Tom or Marcus—or hell, even Karen—by himself if they showed up now. Not wearing boxers and armed only with a nail, anyway.

Josh checked the doors again, in case all of his rolling around had attracted attention. Still good to go.

Will was where Josh had last seen him, resting on his side in his boxers, hands zip-tied behind his back. “Will,” Josh said, crouching over him. When that didn’t work, he said louder, “Will, wake up.”

That didn’t work, either.

Josh thought about it, then tapped Will lightly on the cheek. “Will, wake up.”

Nothing. Josh really thought about it this time, then slapped Will across the cheek. He was prepared to jump back if Will woke up and swung at him. But he didn’t have to because the slap did nothing.

Will didn’t even stir.

Josh felt for Will’s pulse, just to be sure, and found it. There. He really was just asleep, and Josh had no idea how to wake him up. In the movies, all you had to do to wake someone who had been drugged was tap them on the cheeks. Or say their name loud enough. That wasn’t going to happen here. He had done both those things, even the slapping part, which had terrified him.

So now what? Maybe if he could splash water on Will’s face. That usually worked in the movies, too. Of course, he didn’t have any water…

Josh was trying to find ways around this new problem when he heard noises.

Footsteps!

He scrambled up and darted across the room toward the door the footsteps were approaching. He was suddenly very glad he was barefoot, because he made almost no noise as he ran. He flattened his back against the wall next to the door and held his breath.

He listened to the footsteps getting closer. Was it his imagination or did it sound like the person was moving fast, almost urgently? Or maybe it was just his heart racing, making his entire body vibrate against the wall, all the way down to the cold floor.

The floor was so cold. Why was it so cold? Oh, right, he wasn’t wearing shoes.

The doorknob jingled and began turning clockwise. It looked like it was moving in slow-motion, rotating barely an inch per second, but that was just his mind playing tricks on him. The doorknob opened at the same speed that all doorknobs opened, but at that moment, standing there pressed against the door in his boxers, trying to remember to breathe, everything looked like it took forever to process, even the delicate, thin flakes of dust floating through the moonlight in front of him.


Then the door was opening and Josh saw a flash of skin and shirt and pants and before he knew it, Josh had thrown himself forward and into the figure, catching the person around the waist. They both went sprawling to the floor, and Josh heard the sound of something metallic clattering. He managed to look up and saw a small knife spinning along the floor, away from them.

Josh scrambled up on top of the person, raising himself slightly, and he thought, I’m about to hit someone. Oh God, I hope I’m doing this right? and cocked back his right hand as far as it would go.

He was ready to deliver the blow, to smash down with righteous indignation, when the person under him looked over their shoulder and Josh heard a female voice through the adrenaline flowing through him like a loud, rushing river.

“Josh, stop!”

Josh froze and looked down at Sarah’s frightened face. “Sarah?”

“It’s just me,” she said, looking up at him, trying to catch her breath.

Josh’s right hand remained cocked. Sarah was one of them, one of the people who had lured them here and fed them and laughed with them and drugged them. She was the one who had brought out the glasses with the wine.

She was reading his face, terrified at what she was seeing. “I came back to help, Josh! Please, I only came back to help!”

He glanced over at the knife.

She followed his gaze, understood. “I was going to cut you free. And then the others. I swear, Josh, I only came back to help.”

He hesitated. Was she telling the truth? Could he even trust her? He had pleaded with her earlier because he’d had no choice. But he had the upper hand this time…

So this is what it feels like to be on top for once.

“Why?” he asked, keeping his body on top of her. She hadn’t tried to get away, so that was encouraging.

“I thought about what you said. I can’t keep doing this anymore. It’s not right.”

“We’re not the first ones…”

“No.” He could hear sadness in her voice. It was genuine. Either that, or Sarah was the greatest actress who ever lived.

Make a choice!

He did, and climbed off her. Sarah looked relieved and picked herself up from the floor. Josh offered his hand and she took it. “Are the others coming?”

“No, they’re asleep. Except Tom. He doesn’t sleep very much. He’s up in the Tower, where he always is.”

“Can he see us from there?”

“No, I don’t think so. The ballroom is toward the other side of the hotel.” She paused, then said, “How did you get out of the zip ties?”

“I used a nail.”

“A nail?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.”

“Why?”

“No one’s ever gotten out of those zip ties before. But then no one’s ever woken up before, either. Are you…immune to it or something?”

“That depends. What is ‘it’?”

“It’s a form of Rohypnol.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“What?”

“Rohyp-what?”

“Rohypnol,” Sarah said. “People call it roofies.”

“I knew it. The date-rape drug thing.”

“It’s not pure Rohypnol,” she said, almost defensively. “I adjusted it a bit.”

“Whatever.” He walked over to the knife and picked it up. “Whose idea was the drug in the wine bit?”

She gave him a sheepish look. “Mine. It was either that, or do it Tom and Karen’s way, and that…wouldn’t have been good for any of you.”

“So you’re doing us a favor?” he said, the doubt plain in his voice.

“Yes.” She looked embarrassed again, her cheeks appearing slightly red even in the semi-darkness of the room. “I’m sorry.”

He shook it off. She had a lot to answer for, she and the others, but this wasn’t the time. Not even close. He looked up at the moonlight coming in through the high windows above them. “How long before whoever is supposed to come here for us actually comes for us?”

“I don’t know,” Sarah said. She rubbed her shoulders as if she were cold. He thought that was amusing, since he was the one walking around barefoot in his boxers. “Only Karen knows when they’re coming. She says it could be soon, or later, or tomorrow night. I don’t know for sure. Karen, Tom, and Marcus are the ones who really take care of things. We mostly just stay out of their way.”

“Who are ‘they’?” Josh asked. The question had been on his mind for a while now. “The people that are coming. Who are ‘they’?”

Josh saw the color drain from her face, and he suddenly knew the answer before she said it.

“Them,” she said. “The creatures. They’re the ones coming for you…”