Richard Hale - Frozen Past

“You’re kind of young to be this into one girl.”

“You don’t know her.”

“You’re right,” Bodey said. “I don’t. You know, you sound a little older than your real age.”

“I’ve had to grow up a lot in the past few days.”

“True that,” Bodey said. “Double true. Give me your e-mail and I’ll walk you through it.”

Luke sighed. “Thank you, Mr. Jenson. You don’t know what this means.”

“It’s Bodey, since we’re so intimate now, and I think I know all too well what this means. Don’t get yourself killed kid.”

“I’ve got help.”

“I think you’re going to need it. E-mail?”

Luke gave it to him and a few minutes later he had the program installed on his computer. Bodey walked him through how to work it. It took a few minutes because it was not very user friendly, but he eventually got the hang of it.

“How are you going to get him to call you?” Bodey asked.

“I’ll send him a message on Facebook he can’t ignore. He has a huge ego and I’m going to bruise it. He’ll respond.”

“Got it. If you can’t get it to work right, call me back. I give tech support.”

Luke actually laughed. “Thank you, sir-uh-Bodey. You’re awesome!”

“Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.”

“I will.” He hung up.

Ellie woke to find her father standing over her.

“Get up,” he said. “Time to move.”

She rose slowly, shakily. She didn’t know how much time had passed since the video incident and she hadn’t had anything else to eat. She still stunk of urine despite washing herself off and dunking her clothes in the soapy water. She had put them back on wet and lay down on the concrete shivering. She hadn’t wanted him to see her naked. Even if he was her father.

She eventually fell asleep and now he was back.

“Where are we going?”

“Someplace new.”

“I thought you wanted Jaxon to find me,” she said.

“I don’t want to make it easy for him,” and he grinned. “He has to prove he’s worthy.”

“Worthy of what?”

Her father didn’t answer. He told her to turn around and he bound her wrists behind her and then he marched her up the stairs. They emerged into a dingy room with a cot, a chair, a small table, and a hot plate, but nothing else. It had one window and Ellie could see it was dark outside. She felt confused because in her mind she thought it was morning. Her internal clock was all off balance and she had no idea what time it was or even what day.

He pushed her down a hallway and out a door to what looked like a back yard. It was overgrown with weeds as high as her shoulder. Further back, in the dim moonlight, she could see what she thought looked like a small outhouse nestled against a tree. The light was so dim it was hard to tell. A black or brown car was parked by it and he nudged her along toward it.

“No noise, now,” he whispered.

He went to the passenger side and pushed her in. Shutting the door he came around, sat in the driver’s seat, and reached around behind him grabbing a small bottle and a rag. She knew what was going to happen.

“Please,” she said. “I’ll be good. You don’t have to knock me out.”

“Yes I do,” he said, soaking the rag with the fluid. A strong astringent odor filled the car and he rolled down the window. “Just hold still and let it do its work. You’ll be fine in no time.”

She started to cry, but didn’t fight him. The rag was pressed to her face and she held her breath.

“You’ll have to breathe eventually,” he said. “Might as well do it now.”

She took a breath and then another and soon the world started spinning. His grinning face, lit only by the moonlight, was what followed her into the blackness. She dreamed for what seemed an eternity, her father’s angry voice shouting a single word over and over again: ‘Read!’ No matter what she tried, she could not find where the voice was coming from. His low, deep, booming cry seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. In the dream, she was free to move around and she ran from the command, but she could never get away. It followed her into the darkness, where she finally slept deeply and awakened, stiff and cold on a concrete floor, a thin wool blanket covering her legs.

She sat up shakily and looked around. She was in a basement again, but someplace new. Another chair was sitting in the middle of the room, pushed up close to a folding card table. A Styrofoam cooler sat against one wall next to a door which stood partially open. It was dark beyond the opening and she could not see into it. If she had to guess, she was pretty sure it was another ‘bathroom.’

Turning to her left, a wall of cubbies stood stark and empty against a wall that had a window high up near the roof. The glass was painted black but she could see light leaking around the sill. At least she could tell it was daylight. It was too high for her to reach even if she stood on the table. Maybe if she put the chair up on the table and stood on it she thought it might be within reach. She’d have to try when she wasn’t so weak.

Standing slowly, her legs shaking beneath her, she wobbled around the rest of the space finding nothing of interest or value. A set of creaky stairs led to a locked, solid feeling door that echoed when she rapped on it. No one came to answer. Holding the railing as she slowly descended back down, the room started to spin and she lost her footing. Falling the last couple of steps, she twisted her ankle and cried out in pain as she landed hard on the concrete floor. She sat there holding it and crying, the despair she felt magnified by her weakened and now injured body. Nobody was going to find her here and no one was coming to save her.

After a few minutes she got herself under control and tried to stand. She limped and hopped over to the Styrofoam cooler and looked inside. There were a few bottles of water, some snacks, and a sandwich nestled in some ice. She grabbed a handful of the cubes and held them to her swelling ankle. Hopefully she’d be able to keep it from swelling too much and stiffening up.

Grabbing the sandwich, she opened it warily and smelled. This one seemed ok and checking the date on it did no good because she had no idea what day it was. She took a tentative bite and chewed slowly. It was glorious. She swallowed whole mouthfuls without even chewing and even though she knew she needed to slow down, she couldn’t help herself. She was famished.

Chugging some water after devouring one half of the sandwich, her stomach revolted and she threw everything back up all over the floor. She started sobbing again, angry at herself for being so foolish and loathing the man who put her in this position. Sitting on the cold floor, vomit in front of her, her ankle on ice and continuing to swell, a complete feeling of hopelessness washed over her and she actually started to believe she might not live through this. Her despair was a living thing crawling around inside her. She moaned aloud in the quiet room, trying desperately to push everything but Luke from her mind. The ache she felt slowly subsided as she closed her eyes and envisioned him in front of her, reaching for her and taking her into his arms. The room grew warmer and the stench of her clothes and vomit faded into the background as she lost herself in the vision.

The tears dried up and she felt a little better. The strength she received from Luke amazed her and she clung to his image like an overboard passenger at sea, hanging to a life preserver. He was her life preserver and she would never let go. Never let go. Never let go…

Jaxon watched Victoria talk to Holt on the phone. They had driven to the Hoover building and were now in her office expecting to look over the uncut version of the video Worthington had sent to the networks. Jaxon was rogue now, and they had to be careful. No one seemed to care at the moment who Victoria brought into the building, but if Benton or Holt knew he was here, they would probably arrest him and her too. They had to be careful, but they had to have information too. They were walking a fine line between investigators and criminals.