"My god, Rachel. My god," Zachary whispered, his face a mask of horror. His hands traced over me as he knelt down in front of me, over my face and my body, but didn't touch. "Which one of them did this to you?"
I shook my head, though I wasn't sure it was discernable from my violent trembling. The pain and the fear and, most of all, the relief when Zachary had come for me exploded inside me, leaving me weak and disoriented. Just one look at his face, and I knew that I hadn't misjudged him. He was on my side. I still didn't know the details of why he was running with the gang, maybe he was still undercover? But the horror on his face at seeing me hurt was unmistakable. Thank god.
"It had to be Jose," said the black man. "That's who brung her to the room and Alan was busy with the explosives."
Zachary shut his eyes tightly, but his voice was quiet. "Thank you."
"Yeah, that's right. But consider us even now, you hear? I brung her here and didn't fuck her when I could have. So we're square, you and me."
"All right," Zachary said, his voice so low I could barely make it out. "But not a word."
"Nah. I ain't no tattle." I didn't think his word on that was very reliable, seeing as he'd just ratted out Jose. But he seemed to be on our side, sort of, and we also appeared to be short on friends.
The black man left, leaving Zachary and I alone. Zachary didn't turn back to me right away, but instead hung his head with his eyes closed. I was still shaky and, if I was honest, still nervous about Zachary's true colors, so I stayed silent. Then he took a deep breath, opened his eyes and turned to me.
"How?" The softness of his voice contrasted sharply with his flashing eyes and labored breathing.
"They came to my apartment." My voice shook, as if I were shivering, cold -- but I felt nothing. The numbness, no matter how temporary, was welcomed. "You said not to open the door, but they were...they were cops. I thought you'd sent them."
His eyes burned with intensity, and I longed to step back, but I could hardly move from my spot on the floor. He must have seen my fear, though, because he gentled his expression. "It's okay. It'll be okay. Let me see how bad it is."
He reached his hand out to my torn clothing, but I shrunk back into the floor, clutching the pieces together. His hand froze in the air. "I won't hurt you. Please."
But I couldn't. It wasn't about fearing him, or maybe it was, just a little. But mostly I couldn't be seen like this.
His hand dropped, and so did his head. "I'm so sorry, Rachel. You have no idea. I'll get you out of this, I swear it."
"Okay," I said. I didn't know how he'd do it, but getting out sounded good. Damn good. I wanted to get out, with him, and be back at my apartment. I wanted it to be like before this had happened. Could I ever be normal? I didn't really see how, but that's because I was here, in this hell. Once he got me out, I could figure it out.
Hope. It does spring eternal, apparently.
"How bad did...Did he..." Zachary swallowed, apparently unable to continue the sentence.
But I knew the question. And that made me think of the answer. My gaze fell to Zachary's waistline -- his belt. His eyes followed mine, and then widened.
"He used a belt on you? My god..." Zachary broke off. His hands tightened into fists and I flinched away. "No, baby. Don't be afraid of me. I'm sorry. I'm just angry at him. Furious. But not at you. I'll never hurt you."
Maybe not, but he hadn't touched me, either. He'd tried to, just to look at my bruises, but not to hold me or comfort me.
Maybe he didn't want me anymore. I must look disgusting, all puffy from the bruises and from crying. And I'd been touched by another man, beaten and raped to be specific. Would Zachary want me after that? Wet tears rolled down my cheeks, stinging the open cuts.
"Ah, god, baby. I'm so sorry. God." His voice cut off abruptly, hoarse and rough, but I couldn't see his face through my own tears. I could hear him though, taking a series of rapid breaths. Upset. He was upset. But still, he didn't touch me.
"Listen. Sweetheart. I want to...god, it doesn't matter what I want. I just wish it could be different right now, but we have to focus now, for us to get out of this. We're in real deep, and it's not going to be easy getting out. We need to act fast. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
I didn't, not really. Zachary was a cop, so why couldn't he get us out? Why couldn't he call up the cops and give them our location? "Why?"
"Some really bad shit is going down right now. That's why they sent me in. I'm supposed to be out there stopping it but I just tipped them off and they'll have to handle it. I need to get you out of this."
I focused on his face as my tears dried. He looked almost pleading, but for what?
"I know I let you down. I picked my job over you the first time. And then I left you today, that's how you got into this. But now I am with you 100%. I'm getting you out of this."
"Hey, your job involves saving people's lives. And I haven't lost mine, yet." I tried for a joke, but clearly failed as his face darkened.
"You won't," he said sharply. "You're going to get out of this."
He rested his forehead against mine and breathed heavily. Then he pulled back, his face encased in an emotionless mask.
"Come." He reached his hand down and pulled me up. I swayed gently and he steadied me with his hand at my elbow. I longed for more, for an embrace of comfort, but that's not what he was offering.
He pulled a gun from his waist that I hadn't noticed before and glanced out of the door. Then he pulled me out and down the hallway back toward the way I had been brought in. A shout warned us that someone was coming, but we had no time to hide or to run back to the room. He grabbed me and held me in front of him, the gun pressed to my temple, just as a man rounded the corner in front of us.
The man, who I didn't recognize, but was dressed just as scarily as all the others, flicked his gaze between us. He said to Zachary, "We got to hurry, yo."
"I know," Zachary said. "Why do you think I'm taking her out of here?"
The other man's looked me up and down my body, and a leer darkened his face. "I can get rid of her for you."
"No," Zachary said sharply. "She's mine."
The man put his hands up, the leer still firmly in place. "Okay, man. I get it. All yours." And then he turned and continued down the hallway at a brisk pace.
I breathed out a sigh of relief, but cast a wary glance at Zachary, who was watching him go. I had every reason to believe that Zachary was on my side. He was law enforcement, clearly trusted by them. And I'd only ever see him protect me. But he played the bad guy so convincingly. What if he really was taking me somewhere to get rid of me? It seemed unlikely, and there'd be no need to keep up the charade if he was. After all, he had a gun. I had to do what he said regardless of whether I thought he was a good guy or not. Still, I was nervous. I resolved that once we got out of here, I'd try to split from Zachary. If I could get out of this mess, out of immediate danger, then things would clear up for me. I could check out Zachary's story, maybe talk to the police or something -- not that I was looking forward to that. But the first step was to get out of here, and Zachary was doing that for me.
He'd taken my hand again and pulled me down another hallway. We stopped in front of a door, and Zachary turned to me.
"Okay, listen." He pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket. "Here's what we're going to do. You're going to get in the black Explorer in there. Start the engine and get into drive, but hold the brake. When the garage door opens, you need to floor it out of there and off this land. If you follow this farm road east 20 miles and then -- "
"Wait a minute," I interrupted. "You're not coming with me?"
"There's guys all over this place. I've got to distract them so that you can get out."
"Then how will you get out?"
He just shook his head.
What did that mean? Could it possibly mean that he was on their side after all and that's why he wanted to stay? But if they saw him fighting them, they would hardly accept him back into their folds. "Zachary?"
"It's the only way. I'm going to try to follow if I can swing it. But the important thing is that you get to the police station. They'll keep you safe."
"And I'm just supposed to leave you here to die? Are you insane?"
"Christ, Rachael. I need to get you out of here and I'm running out of time." When I cringed, he added. "I'll follow after, okay? Once I see you on the road, I'm going to grab one of the other cars and go."
With that, he pushed me into the garage. My footsteps echoed as I half-ran to the Explorer. It felt huge as I climbed in. New, too, with all sorts of controls they hadn't had the last time I'd driven a car. Which, admittedly, had been awhile. I could hardly afford one on my pay at the bar, and I didn't really need one with city transportation. But I put the keys in the ignition and the car purred to a start. Drive, drive, where the gear shift? Finally, I was waiting with my foot on the brake, fingers clutching the steering wheel, staring at a closed garage door.
After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, the garage door jerked and then rumbled upwards. It sounded abnormally loud in the previous quiet of the garage. Sunlight filled the garage and as at it reached my eyes, I moved my foot onto the gas and pressed down hard. The driveway was long and curvy, but the car roared under my command. It went a bit too fast, even, and I almost swerved into tree.
Even through the thick car doors, I heard shouts behind me, and then gunfire.
Shit.
Zachary was still back there. This was a horrible idea. I never should have agreed to leave without him, but it was too late now. Going back would be suicide for the both of us. I had to hope that he could find a way out, but with a sinking feeling, I remembered his words and the look in his eyes as he'd said them. This was already a suicide mission. His.
He'd known he wouldn't be able to come after me. He'd done this anyways because it was the only way to get me out. But still, even knowing that, even hating myself for it, I couldn't turn back. Not when he'd already made this sacrifice. I had to make it worth something by getting free. And maybe. Maybe there was hope for him. He was resourceful and smart and he'd gotten himself out of bad scrapes before, hadn't he? Against the odds, he could do it again. I had to believe that.
Careening through the twisted path, the giant car bounced in over bumps. The road ahead cleared and I could see the turn off onto the paved farm road Zachary had told me about. East, he'd said. Fuck, if only I knew which way that was. Something about the sun and it setting. Shit, which way.
And as I was frantically trying to figure out the sun setting patterns, I heard the rev of an engine from behind me. I glanced back to find one of the other cars gaining on me. Yes! Zachary had made it.
Reaching the end of the road, I started to make the turn left. Almost in slow motion, I glanced back to see if Zachary would follow, and saw instead a hand coming out of the passenger side window. No. No one should be with him. And the glint of metal. A gun was in his hand. Bang! A blast sounded in my ears at the same time as the car popped up into the air, halfway through its turn. A shudder and a skid, and then the car was still turning. Too far. It was rolling over onto the street. A sharp pain blasted the side of my face, and then everything went dark.
* * *
