1. 1
“Are you sure this is the right place?” I whisper in my earpiece as I look through the crack of the door in the hallway.
The house we’re raiding is completely empty, but the information we have is solid. Chester is never wrong, he only sends us out if he is damn certain. I enter the room and shine my flashlight, which is currently being stabilized on the 9 mm Glock in my outstretched hand, into every corner of the room that I’ve entered.
I don’t see anything: no furniture, no curtains, no flooring. Nothing. This is weird, because Chester’s digital search had shown recent activity. Had they kept the kids in these conditions, or had they quickly left and cleaned everything out because they knew we were coming?
“I’m sure it’s the right place, Abs,” I hear Chester say in my ear, his voice an octave lower than it normally is. “I’ve decoded the messages saying that’s the pick-up spot. They used a lousy algorithm to encrypt it. They shouldn’t have even bothered to encrypt it at all.”
If I should go based on Chester’s opinion on their levels of coding, nobody in this whole world is worth a dime. He’s just that good. Chances are they used some really advanced encryption algorithm, but where just not match for Chester’s knowledge.
He sounds grumpy, the tone of his voice implying he should eat something. You’d think finding out that several children are being sold to whatever kind of fucknuts buy kids and then not finding them would make him grumpy, but this is his I-need-sugar tone.
“Eat a fucking candy bar,” I tell him in hushed tones.
I nod my head to Alex, who’s covering my back, ordering him to follow me to the next room. The huge black ex-military man is dressed from head to toe in tac-gear and follows my commands without hesitation. It’s the last room we have left to check, but my gut tells me no one will be there. And I can always count on my guts to be right. Then again, I also count on Chester to always be right, so that offers a bit of a conundrum.
Turning the doorknob with the hand holding my flashlight, the door opens with a creak. The light from the flashlight lights up yet another completely empty room while Alex also shines his flashlight through the room from behind me.
“There’s nobody here,” I say to Chester.
“Fuck,” he answers with a full mouth as I can hear him chew in my ear like he’s standing right next to me. “Something must’ve come up.”
“Gee, you think?” I bark at him. “Find out what happened! Go find these fucking kids!”
I know it’s not Chester’s fault, but I’m taking it out on him anyway.
Nothing, I see absolutely nothing of significance in the whole house. No lost candy wrapper, no sign of children being here, no footsteps in dust. Behind me, Alex is shining his flashlight on the ground, also coming up empty.
Which strikes me as odd.
“There’s no dust,” I say to Alex and Chester as I let my light shine over the floor. Not a speck. “They must’ve cleaned out. They were here, but they’re gone.”
“I told you I was right,” Chester snarks.
“I don’t care about your ego; just do your thing and find out where they took them. Turn the dark web inside out if you have to. We’re not losing them!”
Alex doesn’t even move a muscle. He’s used to me having one-sided conversations with Chester through my earpiece, as Chester never goes along with us. Chester can change the settings as to who can hear us and who can’t. My little dictator likes the power and then pretends to be humble.
My insides are churning with emotions. The hope I had to save them has turned into bitter disappointment. We were so close.
For the last three months, we’ve been hunting for four kids that were kidnapped from their homes in the middle of the night. Chester found them while using a back door of a back door on the dark web, where they were being offered for sale. He managed to trace them to a known organization that makes money out of human trafficking. In the last two years, they had changed their focus to kids, earning them a prime spot on my priority list. Which, as a criminal organization, is not a place you want to find yourself.
The rustling of Chester’s fingers over his keyboard fills my earpiece, and I can hear him hum some song I don’t recognize. When he goes into full-on Indie music mode, I’ve lost him to the wonders of technology and I won’t be able to reach him for a while. I pull the earpiece out, letting it hang on my chest.
In one long sigh, I release the breath I’ve been subconsciously holding in, the disappointment almost physical. I breathe in for four, hold for four, breathe out for four and hold for four.
Alex squeezes my shoulder, giving me a lopsided smile, but I can see it’s just as fake as the smile I have plastered on my own face. He follows me as I walk into the hallway, running into Scott and Dylan, who have secured the top floor.
We’d already learned from floorplans there was just a little loft there, usually used for storage, so the chances of them hiding the kids there were slim, and the floor was secured quickly. It had been just as empty as the ground floor.
“Fuck,” Dylan says as he combs his fingers through his dirty blond hair and looks around. “We’re too late?”
“Seems like it,” I admit as I nervously chew my bottom lip. I don’t like this one bit. What happened to make them leave early? Has someone noticed us watching them? Did Chester make a mistake somewhere?
I need to get to the bottom of this. Above all, I need to find out where these kids have been taken. We need to get them home safe and unharmed. Well, as unharmed and safe as we can. Being kidnapped is going to leave its mark on these children no matter what else happens. All we can pray for now is to minimize the damage.
Scott is randomly opening kitchen cabinets, but it’s just more of the same. A bit of emptiness topped off with a whole bunch of nothing. They were very thorough in cleaning out, or they kept everything as barren as it now is to begin with. He turns on the tap, and to my surprise it starts running. Somehow, my head made out these monsters to not provide these kids with even basic necessities, so running water is a start.
It infuriates me that there is no clue whatsoever to tell us where they went. My hands lean on the edge of the kitchen counter as I let my head fall down, look at my feet and give myself a moment to find my calm again, which does not work. I put the earpiece back in, hoping Chester would suddenly have all the answers for me even if I knew better than to expect it. The sound of him furiously working his keyboard is still there, but the humming has disappeared.
When I tilt my head up, I can look straight out of a window. Outside I can see the neighbors’ house, this perfect suburban white painted home. It makes me wonder who lives there and if they even had a suspicion that there were abducted kids right fucking next to them. The perfect condition of their lawn and flowerbeds leads me to believe they don’t have a clue what went on right next door to them. I’ll make sure my team interviews them. Maybe they saw something we can use. Everybody leaves traces. If they’re not digital, then they’re physical, and we’re equipped to find both.
I see someone moving inside the house I’m looking at. It boggles my mind that there’s someone there whose life just goes on. I decide on the spot that I’m going to talk to them. I can’t just stand here and do nothing.
“Can you wait for the authorities to arrive to take trace?” I ask my men. “I’m going to talk to the neighbor. If Chester finds anything, I’ll come back.”
Alex nods to me as he takes Scott and Dylan along to the empty space that’s supposed to be the living room. They all look as defeated as I feel. I take a deep breath, step outside and start walking to the neighbors with my hands in my pockets.
I ring the doorbell, straighten my gear and impatiently wait for the door to open. Maybe ringing on someone’s door in tactical gear isn’t the wisest choice. It takes forever for someone to answer the door, so I ring again and knock for good measure. I haven’t seen anyone leave the house, so whoever I saw should still be here, right? Perhaps they went out back.
I feel hinky. Can’t put my finger on it, but I feel it in my stomach. It’s something I’ve learned to trust. The hairs on the back of my arms stand up, and it isn’t because I’m chilly.
“Chester,” I say through my earpiece as I press a finger against it to push it in deeper. “I need you to run a quick check on the house next door. Three-oh-four. What’s going on here? Owner?”
There’s a small pause in his typing before it starts up again.
“House is owned by an elderly couple according to documents,” he says a few seconds later, like he didn’t break several laws to hack into whatever database he just broke into. He’s just that good.
“They seem to have moved to Florida while subletting the house. Can’t find anything about the subletter, except from monthly payments. I get bounced around when I’m trying to look into his bank accounts. Something’s off, don’t know what. Need more time. But be careful.”
The snappy information overload sets me on high alert, as I knock on the door again. Meanwhile, I’m trying to look inside through the white curtains in the window right next to the door. I’m sure I saw somebody earlier.
As we’re not deployed by any official authority, I have no means to enter the house other than knocking on the door and waiting for the attendant to open up.
Which. Is. Not. Happening.
I walk around the house to find the window where I see someone. Maybe they’re taking a shower or something, and they didn’t hear me pounding away on the door?
There’s a porch that fully encompasses the house, and I walk past windows that are all closed with curtains. A little odd during the early hours of the afternoon. But to each their own, maybe the subletter is a very private person, which would explain the lack of clues or information Chester is finding.
The curtains in the window I saw movement in are still open, and I look inside. There’s nobody there anymore, and I see a barren bedroom. There’s a single bed with white linens, a cupboard and a desk. All are completely empty, and there’s not a single trace of any personal object.
“You find anything yet, Ches?” I ask him. Nothing about this whole situation feels right. The kids were supposed to be in the house. The person I just saw through the window should be answering the door. The perfect state of the garden implies the house should look more lived in than it does. Chester not being able to find any trace of the subletter. Everything feels hinky, and that doesn’t sit well with me.
“Nothing. I’m bouncing all around. Every digital trace that should be there, isn’t there.”
The radars inside of my head go a mile a minute. We’re missing something, and I don’t like it. I walk further around the house, hoping there’ll be another window with open curtains so I can look inside and figure out what’s going on. No such luck on the first two windows I pass, but when I turn the corner, I see movement out of the corner of my eye.
Someone’s climbing over the fence in the backyard. All I see is a person in dark clothing, jumping over the fence, disappearing out of sight.
“Unknown subject, fleeing the house,” I say in my earpiece as I jump over the porch railing. My adrenaline spikes as I start running to where I saw the person disappear. I hear Chester calling my team in the house next door to come out and give back-up as I reach the fence, run-climbing over it in three steps. My hand reaches for my Glock as I land in a crouch on the other side of the fence.
I’m standing in a wooded area, wet leaves already sticking to the soles of my shoes as I scan the trees to see where the Unknown Subject went. There’s thick, old oak trees as far as the eye can see, obstructing my view.
I remember that Chester said the house was a perfect location to keep the children, because was secluded and bordering two hundred acres of off-the-grid forest. No one ever passes by. Which seems to be correct, because I can’t see any movement or anything that seems to be out of the ordinary.
I turn around when I hear two thuds behind me, seeing Alex and Scott jump over the fence. They look at me in question, guns in hand, aiming into the forest. I give the trees another glance, but still see nothing.
“Lost him,” I say, both to my men who are standing with me between the trees and to Chester.
“Him?” Scott asks.
“Best guess,” I answer, uncertain of who it was I saw exactly. “Looked like a big person, broad shoulders. I’d go with male, but I wouldn’t put any money on it.”
Scott starts shining his flashlight on the ground, but it doesn’t do him any good. There’s still just a tad too much light even though it’s dusk, even between the thick foliage of the trees. He takes a few steps forward, looking around, coming up with just as much as I came up with. A big pile of nothing.
We won’t find someone who’s familiar with this area without any resources, just the three of us. We’re not trained to track people through a forest. Besides, there really aren’t any grounds to pursue him at all, even if it is suspicious as fuck to run away.
“Abby,” Chester says in my ear, trying to get my attention. “Tell me what I’m doing. I’m getting zilch on the neighbor. Want me to go back to tracking the kids?”
This whole situation is fucked up. Nothing is going as it’s supposed to. How do we proceed from here? No matter how intrigued I am by someone fleeing a house when I knock on the door, it’s less important than finding those kids.
“Track the kids, Ches,” I say, looking both Scott and Alex in the eye as I do so they know what the plan is. Furious typing starts rattling my ear again, as Chester does what he does best and hopefully finds a trace to find those kids. My men and I walk back to the fence, where Scott runs back up against it and slides over. Hanging halfway up the fence, he holds out an arm so both Alex and I can use him to climb over more easily.
“Dylan still at the house?” I ask as I pull my tactical gear back into the right place after climbing the fence twice.
“Yup, waiting for authorities. There has to be a trace of them somewhere,” Alex answers, his eyes scanning the neighbors’ house.
My mind wanders to the kids. Statistics are against them now that the perpetrators know we’re on their heels. Research shows that most of all kidnapped children who are abducted by a stranger get killed within the first twenty-four hours. The chances of finding them back after that first day are slim. Knowing they’re still alive after all these months slightly improves their chances, as the goal is to sell them on the black market. However, now that we’re in the picture, holding on to these kids could be a bigger risk than they’re worth, making the chance of them getting killed higher than they originally were.
It’s the main reason we don’t act unless we’re certain. Unless Chester is certain. He doesn’t take chances, he does proof and statistics. And just like that, my mind seems to zap everything that’s feeling hinky together.
“What if they’re in the neighbors’ house?” I say with a voice only slightly above a whisper, making it so that only Chester can hear me. “What if everything’s connected and we checked the wrong house?”
The ticking on the keyboard falls silent for a second that seems to last for an eternity, the thought hanging between us. I’m certain Chester is doing the math to figure out if I could be right. My heart is pounding in my chest, while my mind tries to convince itself of the idea. I nervously chew on my cheek as I wait for an answer, which is taking too fucking long.
“Ches?”
“I don’t know, Abs. I don’t have enough data. But factoring in your guts and all the dead ends I ran into on the subletter, I’d say it’s not impossible.”
That’s all I need to hear to get back into action again. I let out a soft whistle between my teeth, getting the attention of Scott and Alex. I beckon them to the house, wondering if we should take a moment to grab Dylan so we can make up teams of two. I’m not willing to take the risk. If those children are in there, we can’t spare a second.
“Take the front door, bottom to top search. I’m taking the back.”
They don’t ask questions, they just act, grabbing their guns and flashlights again, and moving their way to the front door. I grab my gun, get into position and lean my flashlight on it. Walking up the porch, I press my back against the wooden panels right next to the door. Before I try to kick in the door, I try the handle, which to my surprise gives in and opens.
My heart is racing as I look around the corner, hyper focused on the task at hand.
The door I opened leads into a kitchen, it has the most common pieces of furniture like a table and some chairs, but no personal items. There are no traces of food having been prepared, but it could be that the subletter is just very clean. My gut tells me there’s more going on. This whole house is a front to let outsiders think there’s nothing out of the ordinary. It’s too pristine, too perfect, too impersonal.
Once I’ve cleared the kitchen, I walk into the living room. It’s the same story. No actual proof of anyone really living here. No magazines, or books, or photo frames. Not even a remote control on the coffee table, ready to be grabbed by the owner. I don’t know whatever it is we’re stumbling into, but I do know it’s not kidnapped children.
After clearing the living room, I walk back out in the hallway, where I see Scott and Alex walk upstairs. Alex gives me the all-clear signal as he motions his hand around the first floor. No kids. I let out a disappointed sigh as my men proceed to clear the second floor. I let myself fall back against the side of the hallway, putting a strand of my raven black hair that escaped my ponytail behind my ear.
A whole chorus of swear words are repeating in my mind, anger boiling inside of me. I wish we got to the house next door sooner or got to the Unknown Subject sooner. There’s a heap of things I wish, preferably ending up with saved kids, but it isn’t happening.
As I try to put aside my feelings and go upstairs to help my men clear the top floor, my eyes fall on a door beneath the stairs.
“Have you checked the door underneath the stairs?” I ask Alex and Scott through my earpiece.
“No, just did the dining room and the downstairs bedroom. All clear. Same story upstairs. Nothing. It’s like this house was furnished as a model home for a realtor, it’s a ghost town.”
“Yeah, I had the same thought. Something’s off. I’m checking beneath the stairs,” I say, as I push myself back off the wall and go have a look.
“Basement,” Chester suddenly says.
“The door beneath the stairs?”
“According to floorplans, yeah. Unless they did some major construction, there’s a basement beneath the whole house.”
“Sounds like a perfect place to keep kids, don’t you think?”
“Just go get them, Abs,” Chester snaps, his voice giving away just how on edge he is. No matter how hard of a time my best friend has to voice his emotions, I know his heart is in the right place. Always. Now I just need to go find these kids so we can all go home happy.
I start down the stairs to the basement, the wood creaking as I take the first two steps down. My flashlight is shining around, but I don’t see anything. All seems to be dark and empty, and my stomach drops. My hand finds the light switch at the top of the stairs, and I flip it on.
It takes my eyes a second to adjust to the harsh fluorescent beams. The whole basement seems to be empty. No cabinets, no washer or dryer. No stacks of forgotten boxes.
I release a long sigh while trying to find acceptance within myself that we didn’t find the kids. But my mind is just as fucking stubborn as I am. Just to be certain, I take a few more steps down the stairs. It’s too quiet for there to be four children, I’ve lost all hope for that, but I have to double-check. I have to see it with my own eyes before I’ll fully surrender to this defeat.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I find myself standing in dirt while a faint smell fills my nostrils. It’s familiar. A little sweet, reminding me of the little Mexican restaurant we go to sometimes. Limes maybe? That’s odd, isn’t it? Why would there be limes in an empty basement?
“Basement seems to be empty,” I say in my earpiece, letting my team know I’m safe and what’s going on. “There’s a weird smell, so I’m checking it out some more, but I don’t see any kids.”
There’s no flooring on the bottom of the basement, it’s all just dirt. So where’s the smell coming from? Dirt doesn’t smell fresh and most certainly not like limes. I shine my light around and see something white a little further ahead on the ground. It’s covered with some loose sand.
When I walk over and swipe some of the sand off, I notice there’s a protrusion in the dirt. It’s about seven feet long and two feet wide. My mind goes haywire. A thought emerges in the back of my head, but I’m not willing to admit it to myself yet.
I grab a glove out of my breast pocket, quickly put it on and very carefully brush the sand away to reveal a white cloth, which I pull to the side.
When I see the shape of a nose covered in something that looks like cling foil beneath it, I jump back.
It’s a body.
There’s a corpse in the basement.
“Get down here! There’s a body!” I say through my mic, mostly to Scott and Alex so they can get their asses down here as fast as they can. Fuck. This wasn’t how this day was supposed to go.
As I step back from the body in the direction of the stairs, I look around. Now that I know what I’m looking for, it’s obvious. The basement isn’t empty; it’s so far from empty that it’s sickening.
All around me, like literal clockwork, I discover a total of twelve piles of dirt, all roughly in the shape of a human body.
I’m too stunned to feel anything at that point, but I keep spinning circles, counting all the bodies around me.
I went looking for four kidnapped children and accidentally found the burial site of a serial killer.
When a whiff of lime reaches my nose again, I hurl and empty my stomach.