Time stops, a heart stopping second when I worry that I didn’t cut deep enough, that the knife slid too easily, a superficial wound that will do nothing but infuriate my adversary. His eyes meet mine, fury against fury, strength against weakness.
Then he sinks.
He falls to his knees, a hand reaching up to the cut, blood gurgling through his fingers as he tries to speak, tries to communicate the hatred and frustration that blazes through his eyes.
I drop to my knees beside him, my hand twitching around the blade. I bring it up again, his eyes following it. His other hand reaches out and grabs my shoulder, gripping it tightly, the force behind his grasp surprising me. I need to finish him. I need to take the life that has been offered up so easily. But my hand betrays me, falling harmlessly, and I stare at it, useless and quickly going limp around the knife. I reach down into my overfull reservoir that I always avoid, the one perpetually full of evil, the one that scares the ever-loving crap out of me. But it is empty. Drained. I look at him, despair in both of our eyes. His for his future, mine for my inability to complete my mission. His hand goes limp on my arm and he slumps backward, blood streaming down his neck and pooling on the dirt and pavement beneath him.
I stand, trying to retain my grip on the knife and stride to Ralph’s car, yanking open the door and grabbing the keys from the ignition. Then I jog to Jeremy’s truck, climb in and start it up, the only thought in my head being Annie. I need to get back to her.
CHAPTER 52
Her mommy had always said that angels existed. Angels watch over us and keep us safe. Annie had prayed for an angel, and now she prayed for her angel to return.
The brown-haired girl pulled up in her grey truck when there was still five minutes left on the timer. Annie stood, waving excitedly, seeing the smile on the girl’s face through the truck’s windshield. The girl waved, gesturing Annie to come, and she jumped down the stairs, running up to the truck and climbing in.
“You came back!”
The girl smiled, her eyes normal again, all traces of the scary flashes gone. “You bet, sweetie. Thanks for following directions. Ready to go home?”
“What about the kitty?”
There was a moment, when the girl’s eyes changed, like she was thinking about something. “Okay. We can stop and get a kitty first. But I know your mom is ready for you to come home.”
Annie bounced in the seat, excitement radiating from her core. She squealed, clapping her hands, and the girl laughed, pleasure filling the car ‘til she thought it would explode.
When you are on the lam, finding a kitten can prove to be difficult. It is also ridiculous, something we shouldn’t be wasting time on, especially considering that her family is no doubt going through hell. But I can’t say no, can’t give up the opportunity to spend a little more time with her, offer her one tiny bit of happiness that she deserves.
We park in a drugstore parking lot, and I grab my iPad. I avoid conventional routes and pull up Craigslist, finding thirteen listings for kittens in the surrounding area. “Annie, do you know anyone in Vidalia?”
She thinks for a moment, and then shakes her head. I open my cell phone and start calling numbers on the ads. The first four numbers I dial either go unanswered or aren’t available to meet until later. I hit pay dirt on the fifth call. They have four kittens, and are home right now if we want to come by. I scribble down their address and flash Annie a smile.
“Okay sweetie, do you know your parents’ phone number?”
She recites it dutifully, and I jot it down. Then I take a deep breath, leaning my head back on the seat and try to think, try to figure out the best way to go about this. I open the phone again, block my number, and dial Annie’s home.
CHAPTER 53: Henry Thompson
Henry Thompson sat in the living room, his hands tented in front of his face, tears soaking his unshaven cheeks. He had woken up to an empty house, Carolyn leaving a note on the counter stating that she had “gone to Becky’s.” Why she would be wasting time visiting family at this time was beside him. He had called the police station twice, both times learning nothing. They knew nothing; the cops were all idiots as far as he was concerned. He had never felt so useless, and cursed his legs and his inability to drive down to the station himself. The phone rang next to him, and he stared at the receiver. He had waited all night and all morning for the phone to ring. And now that it finally was, he was terrified of the news that it brought. He finally picked up the phone, his voice gravelly when it finally worked. “Hello.”
“Mr. Thompson?” It was a young girl’s voice, one he didn’t recognize.
“Yes.”
“I have Annie with me. She is safe.”
He sat up, gripping the phone tightly. “Who is this?”
“Who I am doesn’t matter. I will bring her to you, but only if there is only you and your wife present. Is your wife there now?”
“No. She’s at her sister-in-law’s. May I speak to Annie?”
“Yes, but I need to arrange things with you first. Are you comfortable with meeting me alone, without police?”
“What do you want from us? We don’t have any money.” He spoke quickly, worried at the words he spoke and worried that they would affect Annie’s return.
“Mr. Thompson, I am not the one who took Annie. I am just the one returning her. I have no interest in anything other than bringing her back to you.”
He released a breath, fresh tears running down his face. “Yes, we will meet you alone. Where?”