Chapter 25 Voss
VOSS
“I don’t know,” he wails. Blood drips from the corner of his eye, his nose, his mouth, his fingers. I stand on the other side of the one-way window with my father and two/thirds of my triplet brothers as Myro questions the driver who took Brek.
It had taken Avory and Ellory just over an hour to track him down and bring him back.
He hasn’t been entirely useful for information.
He doesn’t bring his victims to their final destination.
He meets a truck at the truck stop once a month.
His requirements are ‘able-bodied and relatively fit,’ heavier on males than females.
He doesn’t know what they’re for. He delivers them unconscious and receives cash on the spot. He doesn’t know the name of the truck driver, though he says it’s almost always the same driver.
The only bit of useful information is that there’s a second load ordered for this month. In two days, he’s to drop off another victim.
Myro presses the button on the hand drill. It whines in his hand, making the guy whimper.
“I advise you to think of something important, or I’m going to let my brother play with you,” Myro says.
“Yesss,” Ellory hisses.
“I don’t know anything,” he demands.
“How long have you been kidnapping people and selling them?”
“A year.”
“From Flagstaff?”
He shakes his head. “Not always. Just the last few months.”
That makes sense given what I found when I randomly searched missing people. “His timeline doesn’t add up. A man went missing last week.”
Myro can hear us through an earpiece.
“Are you the only one who abducts people in this area?”
The man shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head at the same time. “I don’t know. I only do my job.”
I suppose the other guy could have been a coincidence. Something else entirely. My gut says that’s not the case.
“What can you tell us about the truck?” Myro asks.
“Nothing. I don’t know anything!”
Myro holds the button on the drill down and brings it toward the man’s hand. He’s already screaming as he tries to tug his hand away. It’s not moving, of course. This isn’t our first day torturing people.
The drill drives into the nail on his middle finger. Blood spatters. His screams change pitch. When Myro hits the block under his hand, he pulls the drill back.
“I don’t know,” he screams, over and over.
“How do you recognize the truck?” Myro asks. “Is it always the same truck?”
“Black trailer with a silver stripe down the side.”
“A Quick Ride,” Myro says, recognizing the style before I do. “What else?”
“There’s a red circle on the back of the one I meet. The same driver almost always. That’s how I recognize the truck.”
“License plate?”
The man shakes his head. “I don’t know. I swear I don’t know. I’ve never thought to look.”
Myro turns to look at the window we’re standing behind. I don’t think we got anything overly useful. Just more anxiety. Once a month, whoever they sell people to gets a restock. Does that mean I have a month to find Brek?
My gut tells me no.
“Ellory can play with him. Don’t kill him. Just make him beg for death,” I say and turn away. I left Jessica in my office, watching the security feed for the truck stop. Hopefully, she has something more useful.
Dad joins me as I leave the barn through a side door and climb into the white truck.
The trucks are the only vehicles that drive beyond the houses if we can help it.
Nothing identifiable. There’s no telling them apart.
We also take the license plates off them since they only drive around on personal property.
I head back to the office. We’re silent as we take the elevator. I appreciate that Dad doesn’t feel the compulsion to tell me it’s okay. He’s realistic. We don’t know if it’s okay. We may already be too late.
I’m trying very hard not to think too hard.
Not to let my imagination go awry with one horror or another.
I’m stuck in a loop of ‘able-bodied and relatively fit’ people, more men than women.
That’s the best hint we have at the moment.
Once a month, except this month, they’re looking for a second delivery.
What does that mean?
Jessica is right where I left her. She’s staring hard at the screen, though it doesn’t seem to be moving.
“What did you find?” I ask.
She jumps when I speak and spins to look at me. “Come here,” she demands and rewinds the feed. All dozen camera angles spin backwards and then pause when she hits the button.
We watch as she shifts between cameras, clicking the ones she wants, following the progress of the car with Brek. It pulls into the parking lot, stops to get fuel. We get a good look at the man as he pumps gas, confirming it’s the man we have in holding.
Then, he drives his car around the back of the truck stop and parks. Jessica rewinds another thirty seconds and changes feeds to find the truck that pulls in. She follows its progress until it backs in beside the car.
It’s a Quick Ride truck, just as suspected. I caught a glimpse of the red dot, too. It looks like it might be a magnet. Not something that’s there all the time. It’s cleaner than the rest of the truck, clearly breaking up the dirt caked on the back.
I take note of the license plate and then freeze frame as the man steps out to grab a screenshot of his face. I let the feed go from there.
Honestly, you can’t see much. Not with the way the truck is angled and where the camera is. We can see the back door of the car open shortly after the back hatch of the trailer. The trailer is angled away from all the cameras, pointing toward the trees.
“When we uncover this, I’m exposing this fucking truck stop for negligence in covering all angles. For a year, it’s been used to traffic people,” I mutter.
No one answers me as we continue to watch. Jessica pauses when the two drivers pull Brek from the back of the car. It’s not a clear view, and I suppose with reasonable doubt, we can’t prove that’s Brek.
What is clear is that the man is unconscious. The two carry him to the back of the truck.
“Ballsy,” Jessica says. “Broad daylight. No one seems to notice.”
“They’ve grown confident,” Dad says.
Jessica hits the spacebar, and the feed continues.
We watch in silence while they do whatever they’re doing out of camera view.
Then the car driver crawls into the back of his car and comes back out, shutting the door.
He walks toward the trees and very obviously throws something.
Brek’s phone. We can’t see that’s definitely what it is, but that’s where we found his phone.
Nothing interesting happens after that. The car leaves. Jessica tracks the truck driver through the truck stop—bathroom break, food, refuel, and then drives away.
“Now what?” Jessica asks. “What did the driver say?”
“Up,” I tell her, tugging at the shoulder of her shirt until she’s out of my swing so I can retake my seat. I tap quickly on the screens she’s been using until I can grab a bunch of different face shots of the truck driver.
“He didn’t tell us much useful information,” Dad says when I don’t answer her. “Some key details that we think are important, but until we understand what we’re looking at, we’re not sure how they matter.”
“Are we calling the police?”
“No,” my dad and I say at the same time.
“Trust me when I tell you, we’ll figure this out far quicker than the police,” Dad says.
“Why do you think that?”
“Because we’re going to break every law necessary until we find Brek. We’ve also taken his disappearance seriously, where they will need to wait for a minimum of twenty-four hours or some shit. He’s an adult, after all. He isn’t required to answer his phone.”
Jessica scowls. “What are you doing now, Voss? What can I do?”
I shake my head. “I’m running recognition software to identify the driver and running plate scans to find out what I can about the truck itself. I’m going to attempt to track down his phone and follow his GPS like I did Brek’s.”
“What can I do?” she repeats.
“Nothing right now. A lot of what I do is wait for the computers to give me the information I need.” I stare at the spinning circle on both sites with a frown. “I’ve never understood how frustrating it is to wait until I’m the one waiting,” I mutter.
Dad’s hand rests on my shoulder. “Let me watch this. Go get some sleep.”
I shake my head. It could take minutes or hours. But as soon as either site gives me an answer, I want to see where it takes me. Besides, running plates is somewhat quick. Especially when the cab is privately owned and not registered to a company, as so many tractor-trailer trucks are.
“Voss,” Dad says.
I sigh and twist in my rope swing to look at him. “I’m not leaving. I need to find him.”
Dad nods. “You have a child to tend to. Don’t forget that.”
I want to be wildly offended, but he’s right, and I haven’t thought of Axl at all over the last few hours. I know he’s safe. I can’t say the same for Brek.
“He’s not going to remember my absence over a few days when he’s this young. Brek will remember these days for the rest of his life,” I answer and turn back to the computer. “He’s with the nanny. He’s safe and being cared for.”
We don’t even know if Brek is alive or if we’re already too late.
Dad leans down and kisses the top of my head. Tears sting my eyes. His comfort dislodges the emotion I’m trying to keep in check, so my fear doesn’t overtake me.
“We’ll find him,” Dad says. “I need you to remember that you’re not going to be any good at finding him if you don’t get some sleep, too. You’re still human, Voss. You’re nearing twenty-four hours awake. What happens when you don’t get enough sleep?”
I press my lips together, not wanting to answer him. He’s not wrong. When I find where Brek is, I’m going in. There’s nothing in this world that will keep me sitting comfortably in my fucking office while someone else is going to find him.
Which means Dad is right.
“We have the Shuttled driver’s car,” Dad says. “We know when and where the next drop is.”
I inhale sharply. I’m going in. Wherever Brek is, I’m going to be in the next delivery.
Dad grips my shoulder, probably knowing exactly what I’m thinking.
“That means you have until then to figure this out, so we’re not going in blind.
Understand? Please know that I understand you’re an adult, but if you don’t get some sleep between now and then, I will lock you up while someone else retrieves Brek. You’re not going to be a liability.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. My computer beeps, preventing me from needing to answer him. The facial recognition software is still searching, but the license plate results have come up. The truck is registered to an individual. That’s a relief.
“I anticipate that the trailer itself isn’t utilized by Quick,” Dad says as I stare at the name on my screen.
With the new information, I begin searching the name Walter Sylvester. With his name and address, I begin more searches to see what I can find.
I search for hours, staring mindlessly at the computer as I follow lead after lead.
With the invention of cell phones, phone books are no longer as useful as they once were.
Which means tracking down someone’s phone number is mindlessly tedious and leads to more dead ends than answers most of the time.
If it didn’t take so long to train someone how to do this, I’d give this task to Jessica.
The sun is coming up when hands land on my shoulders. I nearly jump out of my skin as I spin to look at my assailant. I’m expecting one of my brothers. Not my uncle Kairo.
“Go take a nap. I’ll keep searching,” he says.
I shake my head. “No, I got—”
He physically pulls me up from the swing and pushes me toward the door. “You think my brother was joking when he said he’d lock you up and not let you go when we find your lover?”
“Do you even know how to… do all that?” I ask. There’s too much to encompass when asking, so I don’t get into specifics.
“It’s cute you all think I sit on a yacht all day and do nothing.” Uncle Kairo looks at my swing and how it’s attached to the desk. “Don’t you have a regular chair?”
“No,” I answer. “Just let me—”
Uncle Kairo takes my seat. “Go away, Voss.”
For a minute, I stand there and stare at him, unsure what to do. But I’m fucking tired. My eyes burn. Now that I’m standing, my bladder is screaming too.
Turning, I find Jessica asleep on the table. On. The. Table. Dad’s suit jacket is draped over her, though I don’t know where Dad went.
I make a quick stop in the bathroom and then I’m back in my office. I’m not going home. That’s too far away.
Fuck it. I lie on the floor and close my eyes. I’m tired enough that not even my fears can keep me awake. I fall asleep almost instantly and am startled awake what feels like minutes later when Uncle Kairo calls my name.
I jump to my feet and look around in confusion. Where the fuck am I?
“You sleep like a fucking rock. Get over here,” Uncle Kairo says.
Dad’s here. Jessica and Uncle Noaz, too. They’re all gathered around Uncle Kairo. I join them, and Uncle Kairo hits the spacebar.
I’m watching GPS leaving the truck stop where Brek was loaded into a tractor-trailer truck.
It’s moving a million miles an hour since he has it on 24x speed.
Zipping northeast on and on and on until Uncle Kairo slows it down.
He takes the view from cartoon and puts it on satellite.
They’re in the middle of the trees. That’s where the truck stops.
On another screen, Uncle Kairo has a map up of the area, and there’s a very large tract of land called the Arapaho National Wildlife Refuge. A wild game reserve.
“You’re sure this is the truck?” I ask, confused about what I’m looking at.
“Yes,” Uncle Kairo answers. “I’ve also backtracked it and hit a route where he made stops before picking up Brek. Jessica ran missing person reports in those areas, and there are several in each place that coincide with the truck’s stops over the last ten months.”
I stare at the wild game reserve. “I don’t understand. What does this mean?”
Uncle Kairo shakes his head. “That I haven’t figured out yet. That’s why I woke you. It’s time for you to do your magic, Voss. Time for you to find Brek.”