But she couldn’t leave without giving Tony something to go on. Ending up dead without leaving some idea of where to start searching for the others would be plain dumb.
Jo ducked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. She glanced around until she saw what she needed. She grabbed the pen from the counter and hurried back to the bathroom. Inside the first stall she considered carefully what to say before she wrote the message on the wall. If she told anyone or was too straightforward with her message he might catch up with her before she reached the car Blume was sending. Couldn’t risk it.
Going to save Tif and the others. Sylvia is there, too. Lunch was too close to the dead. Look up and you’ll see.
She shoved the pen into her back pocket and went to the door.
Deep breath.
She opened the door slowly and moved into the narrow hall. Bobbie, Tony and Nick were still at the table, hovering over the map.
Jo moved toward the back of the restaurant that had once been a historic home. This time when she reached the kitchen she moved on through as if she belonged there and out the door she went. She hurried along the alley until she found a narrow side alley leading back out to Wayne Street.
She moved fast from there. Not quite running, but close. She took the left at Franklin and spotted the cemetery immediately. Memory Hill was one of the oldest in the city. Students sneaked around the cemetery at night to see if the rumors that it was haunted were true.
A black car waited in front of the gate. Jo walked to the car. A man sat behind the wheel. He powered the window down. “Ms. Guthrie?”
She nodded.
“I’m here to take you to your meeting.”
Jo looked around, spotted what she was looking for immediately so she climbed into the back seat.
As soon as the door closed he rolled away from the curb.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I have orders not to discuss the destination with you. It’s supposed to be a surprise.” He smiled at her in the rearview mirror. “I pick you up. I drop you off.”
“I get it. My friend likes surprises.” She managed a smile back at him. “It’s my birthday. I’m turning eighteen again.” She prayed he would remember that when the police interviewed him.
The driver flashed her another smile before turning his attention back to the street.
Jo dug the pen from her back pocket. “You know,” she said to the driver as she leaned forward pretending to peer out the front windshield, “this is my first visit to Milledgeville. I had no idea there was so much history here.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised.”
As he talked on and on about the city that had once been Georgia’s capital, Jo kept her eyes on him in the rearview mirror while she wrote a message on the back of his leather seat.
Maybe she’d get lucky and the driver would see it when he cleaned the car this evening.
Or the next fare he picked up would take the message seriously and call the police.
Then she recognized the road they were taking and the pen slipped from her fingers.
She had known this was the place.
51
Day Fourteen
Eighteen years ago...
Carrie has a fever and she’s sweating.
I hold her hand and say soothing things to her. She mostly groans and complains.
I don’t know how many hours it has been since we ate the burgers. Maybe she has food poisoning or E. coli.
If only we had water.
We are all very weak today.
Ellen scoots next to me. “Is she dying?”
I elbow her. “Of course not. She’ll be fine. The raw meat probably gave her a bellyache.”
Ellen sits down beside me. “I feel kind of sick, too.”
I feel the same but I keep it to myself. Maybe he or they poisoned us and now want to watch us die in agony.
What was the fucking point of the key?
At least we haven’t been forced to fight again and the horrible movies aren’t playing anymore. That is something to be thankful for.
A loud clatter snaps my attention to the left just as something falls from the overhead door. It clatters and slides against the dirty floor. Then a second object falls.
What the hell?
A third one hits the floor, clattering and sliding into the others.
I release Carrie’s hand and crawl to the pile and sit back on my knees.
Knives. Not just knives, butcher knives—the kind I remember from my grandmother’s kitchen. She used one like this to chop up a chicken once.
“Oh my God.” Ellen grabs my arm as if she needs something to hang on to.
The male voice commands, “Take a knife.”
Fear twists in my belly along with the raw meat. “No!” I shake my head. I don’t know what’s coming but it can’t be good. My instincts are screaming at me.
Ellen reaches out and picks one up. She turns it side to side, watching the shiny metal flash in the light. “Are we going to need these to protect ourselves?”
“Put it down,” I whisper.
Carrie manages to sit up and scoot over to where we are. “What the hell?”
“Take a knife!” the voice repeats.
Carrie reaches for a knife.
I’m not doing it. I innately understand the knives are not for protection.
A grinding sound jerks my attention to the right. The hole we’ve been using for a toilet suddenly closes. There must be a hydraulic door I couldn’t see, not that I’d stuck my head inside the hole. It was too little to use as an escape route so I didn’t bother.
A gushing sound came next. I glance around to see where it is coming from. Water pours down the walls in a thin sheet as if all four walls have suddenly turned into waterfalls. I remember seeing water walls like this in a restaurant once.
I look at the others and then at the walls again. I feel the water rising around my ankles. As if someone inside my head is speaking to me I hear the words: we are going to drown.
The male voice booms loud in the room. “All you need for your freedom is one thing...a single key.”
We stare at each other. Carrie grabs her stomach and groans. Ellen clutches her knife and scoots away from us.
I pick up the final knife before the rising water can sweep it away and I turn to Carrie. Like Ellen, she scoots away.
The water rushes and rushes. The water is up to my knees now. I ignore it. They’re trying to scare us. The water will stop. Or we’ll just float up to the top and hang on to that metal gate-like door. Except the gate is even with the ceiling on our side. The wall around the opening goes up about another ten inches. The bottom drops out of my stomach. The water will rise above the metal gate by several inches.
Ellen and Carrie stare at me as if they, too, have reached this same conclusion.
I shake my head. “I’m not hurting anyone.” I throw down the knife. It floats this way and that until it sinks to the bottom.
“Only two of you can survive,” the voice roars. “One must die. Make a choice. Take a key before it’s too late.”
No way.
The water is at my waist now. I am really scared.
Carrie is clutching her stomach again. I want to go to her but I’m afraid. She has a knife in her hand.
The water brushes the tops of my thighs. I back away from the others. Against the wall where the water oozes forth.
I will not kill anyone. I will not.
Ellen and Carrie are staring at each other.
My heart pounds. I need to say something, to stop whatever is about to happen.
“No!” I shout. “Don’t listen to him! He wants us to hurt each other.”
Ellen rushes toward Carrie. Carrie starts forward but stumbles and falls face-first into the water. Ellen stabs at her with the knife.
I rush toward them.
Ellen and Carrie are fighting. I try to pull them apart. Can’t. Water is at my waist now.
Carrie is under the water. Ellen kicks her in the stomach.
“Stop!” I scream and reach for Carrie.
Ellen holds her under the water. I pull at Ellen, first one of her arms and then the other but I can’t move her.
“Stop!” I can’t budge Ellen. How can she be so strong? Then it hits me, adrenaline. She is fighting to survive.
I grab her hair and yank her head back. She screams but won’t let go of her hold on Carrie.