16. Oz
OZ
T he messages in that chat room swim in my head as we pull up outside a one-story house. I spend far too much of my time on the dark web, in chat rooms like that, and the things I’ve seen haunt my nights. And lately my days too.
I used to be better at keeping everything compartmentalized but ever since Zach took my sister it’s like the evil I see on my screen is seeping into real life.
The fear and dread for the people we’re searching for is that much worse because I know what it feels like now.
I felt that fear, how it paralyzed my body, how it sank deep in my gut till I wasn’t sure I could keep breathing. How helpless I was.
I swallow, my throat thick. Then I grit my teeth and focus on the SWAT teams streaming out of their vehicles. I’m not helpless this time. I was able to track the location and with a little luck, in a few minutes we’ll have found Harley and taken Zach down.
Jude nods my way and we climb out of the car.
River talks briefly with the SWAT team leader before they move, fast and silent, towards the front door.
The battering ram slams into the wood, breaking the quiet as agents flood the house, shouting orders.
It’s organized chaos and neighbors open their doors, peering out to see what’s happening.
None of us have vests on so we wait till SWAT’s cleared the house before going inside. Freya stays by my side as we walk down the hall. In the living room, five agents stand over a man lying face down on the floor, the red dots from their guns dancing on his white wifebeater.
“This him?” one of the SWAT guys asks.
Freya shakes her head, staring at the overweight, greasy haired man trembling on the floor. “No.”
“He could be working with a partner again,” I say, hoping this wasn’t all for nothing.
“Agent Park?” a deep voice calls from another room. “We’ve got a false wall.”
The man on the floor jerks. “You stay the hell out of there! I wanna see a warrant.”
“Hands back on your head! Now!”
The man cowers at the agents order. We leave him there, the stench of urine permeating the air, and go find the others in the bedroom.
Two agents stand by the open closet. The clothes have been pushed to the side and Jacobs, the team leader, pulls down his ski mask and taps his knuckles against the plasterboard at the back of the closet. “It’s hollow.”
The other agent runs his hands along the edge of the board. “I think I can lift it away, sir.”
River nods and I shift in front of Freya.
She bristles behind me but she doesn’t have a weapon so there’s no way I’m moving.
Jude, Eli, River, Jacobs, and I spread out and raise our guns.
On Jacobs’ signal his agent shifts the board, pulling it away to reveal a small room with two bunk beds and three small kids staring up at us.
“Jesus Christ,” Jacobs mutters. We lower our weapons and Jacobs pulls off his helmet.
“It’s okay,” I say to the kids. “Everything’s going to be okay now.” I take a step forward but the girl nearest me flinches. I freeze. I know I’m not the one who hurt these girls but self-hatred swirls inside of me nonetheless.
Freya’s hand touches my shoulder, soothing me as she steps past and goes towards the kids. She moves slowly and they don’t flinch from her.
“Hey there, my name’s Freya. I’m with the police and we’re here to take you home. Does that sound good?”
The girls look at each other before nodding, their faces tearstained and frightened.
The girl with ginger hair takes Freya’s hand. She’s the right age, has the same pale complexion, but it’s not Harley.