62
TWILL
Riiiiiing!
This was no ordinary phone; it was old-school.
The kind with metal bells and a hammer inside.
In her mind’s eye, Twill pictured that hammer slamming to one side, then back again.
Cracking against the bells with steadfast purpose.
Anger, even. Above, the birds went into a frenzy.
A raucous screeching and sudden movement.
Twill knew enough to shield her eyes this time and did exactly that as nastiness fell from up top, raining down on her.
With her free hand, she fumbled toward the sound, the insanely loud ringing, and when her fingers brushed the cold plastic of the receiver mounted to the bars above the door, she snatched it from the cradle.
She was shaking as she brought it to her ear. “Hello?”
At first, there was only silence, then a thin breathing within that silence, then, “Am I speaking to Madison Poppy?”
It had been at least two years since someone had used her real name, and hearing it now made it seem that much more foreign to her.
As if one of her stepdads had somehow found her and was prepping to scold her for running off from the life she’d tried so desperately to forget.
For leaving him alone with her mother. The voice on the phone wasn’t one of her stepdads, or at least she didn’t recognize it as one, but it was male.
He spoke in a low whisper, just above a breath.
A voice that didn’t sound much like a voice at all, but instead, it was some shadowy thing that found a way to reach her from within the place nightmares were born.
It lingered at her ear. It slicked her spine with the slippery tongue of a dead thing.
“Who is this?” she managed, her voice breaking midway through the short sentence.
Behind her, Langdon’s chain rattled. “If that’s the fucker who took us, tell him I’ll pay whatever he wants, but he needs to let us out now. No bullshit.”
Twill turned and gave him a harsh shush.
“I don’t want money.”
Images of Emily and Andy flashed through Twill’s mind again, and she quickly shook them off. “If not money, what do you want?”
“I want you to confirm I’m talking to Madison Poppy.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked nicely. If I’m forced to continue asking, I may not continue asking nicely.”
“I’m not scared of you, you piece of shit. If you had half a ball, you’d turn on the lights and step in here. Face me rather than relying on all the theatrical bullshit.”
“Is that how you see your current situation? Theatrical bullshit?”
“I see a weak man who has to hide and drug people. A weak man who locks people in a cage. A weak man who probably has to pop a pill to get a boner because he doesn’t have a drop of testosterone in his puny little body.”
“Jesus, Rose, you’re going to piss him off,” Langdon said from the dark. “Don’t antagonize him. Just tell him we’ll give him whatever he wants. I’ve just about got this lock figured out. If you can keep him on the line, I’ll tell him myself. I’ll put him in touch with the right people.”
“Are you Madison Poppy?”
“Madison Poppy died when I left Montana.”
“Twill, then. Born again.”
“What do you want?”
“I want what you want. I want you to get out of that cage alive.”
“Then open the door.”
“If only it were so simple.”
“You put us in here—you can let us out.”
“I’m only a facilitator. I don’t make the rules.”
Behind her, another phone rang. Same harsh, metallic clang of metal on metal. Langdon’s chain rattled, then the ringing stopped as he found the other phone and answered. “Hello?”
Twill couldn’t hear what was said, and even if she could, she might not be able to make sense of it.
A single thought had jumped into her head and was screaming at her: If she was on the phone with the person who kidnapped them, who was on the line with Langdon?
The answer was surprisingly simple—there was more than one.
Knowing that didn’t make her feel any better. “How many of you are there?”
“Enough to complete the task.”
“So two limp-dicked assholes?”
“My friend is currently telling Langdon the same thing I’m about to tell you. I strongly suggest you pay attention.”
Twill didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but she also understood aggravating him wouldn’t help either. Whether she liked it or not, this guy had the upper hand, at least for now. “What?”
“Only one of you will be released from that cage. The survivor. If you want to see daylight again, you need to kill Langdon before he kills you. You will not be provided food. You will not be provided water. You will not be given a weapon of any sort. While he may physically be stronger, we both know what you are capable of. You’re cunning.
That is your asset. Without sustenance, time is also your enemy.
Strike fast, strike soon. The longer you wait, the more difficult such exertion will become.
Killing a grown man is difficult. Killing a grown man while fatigued is nearly impossible.
But kill him, you must. If you want to get out. ”
There was a soft click, and the line went dead.
Twill held the receiver in her hand for a long moment, then fumbled it back onto the base. From behind her in the dark, she heard Langdon do the same—plastic rattling against plastic, then silence.
At first, neither spoke, then Langdon cleared his throat. “So you go by Twill?”
Twill swallowed. “Yeah.”
“I suppose I should have known Rose wasn’t your real name. Girls like you never give their real name.”
The darkness in the cage was nearly absolute. Although her eyes had attempted to adjust, Twill still saw nothing beyond vague nearby shapes. If she couldn’t see Langdon, it was unlikely he could see her.
She took several steps away from the door, and when she spoke again, she put her hand in front of her mouth at a slight angle. Between that and the echo off the concrete, she hoped it would make it harder for Langdon to figure out exactly where she was. “How are you coming on that lock?”
“I got it open while I was on the phone,” he told her in a voice that sounded far too calm.