Chapter 18
BEA
There has to be a way out of this.
Right?
Oh, please. There has to be.
This can’t be the end. Not now. Not after everything I’ve gone through. Not after everything Indy’s been through.
Because it’s not just me with everything to lose. It’s Indy, too.
As our captor marches us further into the darkness—the ever-present syringe still inches from my neck—it’s impossible not to think about all the things I don’t want to lose.
My parents. They’re expecting us three days from now for a visit; their first time meeting Indy in person instead of the video calls he took to joining so they could get to know him better.
“I know they don’t trust me,” Indy explained before that first call. “And I get it. But I want them to know I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”
It took a while, but he won them over. And even though my dad still grumbles about the risks Indy took, I know he’s glad Indy did it.
My mom can’t wait to meet Indy. She thinks what he did was romantic. Swooping in to rescue me, spiriting me away in the dark of night, putting his own freedom in jeopardy to protect me…
She loves romance novels. So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
But we’re supposed to go there. My mom is supposed to show Indy my old baby pictures. My dad and Indy are supposed to debate which is better, the Marines or the Army. And the people I love most in the world will all be together.
Because I love Indy. I thought it had to be too soon to be love. But it isn’t.
And if only one of us can make it out of here, I’d rather it be him than me.
I want both of us to escape, of course. I want to go to Oregon with Indy and see where our future leads.
I want dates and game nights and trips to visit our friends.
I want to try all the bendy things he mentioned before and maybe even those handcuffs I saw online.
I want months with Indy. Years. Possibly a lifetime.
I want to be there whenever he doubts himself, so I can tell him how amazing he is. I can remind him that having a prosthetic doesn’t make him any less.
If we get out of here, I can tell Indy I love him.
I can tell him all the things I’ve held in my heart, like how he’s the first man I’ve ever really loved.
How I don’t worry about how loud I’m talking when I’m with him, or if my implants are peeking through my hair.
How I’ve never felt beautiful until I met him.
How I think he’s the bravest man I’ve ever met.
I want so many things.
But I know wanting something doesn’t make it happen.
Wanting didn’t fix my hearing. It didn’t save Indy’s hand. It didn’t help Jenna’s parents, who would do anything to have their daughter back.
“It’s going to be okay,” Indy promised me as we climbed into the back of our captor’s van. “I know it seems bad. But we can get out of this.”
Moments later, that horrible man injected Indy with something. Less than thirty seconds after that, Indy was unconscious. And I was shoved in beside him, tied up and gagged, nearly hyperventilating from fear and horror.
I thought Indy was dead.
God.
That was the worst moment of my life.
Worse than losing my hearing. Worse than seeing Jenna’s body on the ground. Worse than that man grabbing me and slamming me into the locker.
Losing Indy is unthinkable.
Thankfully, he woke up in the trunk not long before we got here. And hearing the familiar timbre of his voice might very well have been the best sound I’ve ever heard.
“Where are you taking us?”
Indy’s voice echoes through the tunnel; its sudden sound startling in the relative silence.
“Shut up,” our captor snaps. “What did I say about talking?”
Indy glances over his shoulder, catching my eye before looking at the man directly behind me. The flashlight reflects off his face, casting his features into hard lines and dark shadows. Glints of angry fire light his gaze.
“We’re in a cave,” Indy retorts, “in the middle of nowhere. We’re the only three people in what? Miles? I hardly think my asking a question is going to attract attention.”
Our captor—we still don’t know his name, not like there was much time for introductions, what with the whole held at syringe-point in my kitchen and then driven for hours in the back of a van situation—replies, “These mines have been abandoned for years. Without maintenance, there’s no way of knowing what could bring them down. Talking too loudly, or—”
I snort. Which is stupid. I know.
But, seriously.
Asking a simple question, in a normal tone of voice, no less, is going to bring the caves crashing down on us?
And if he was so worried about the safety of the abandoned mining tunnels, then why is he forcing us to go deeper inside them?
“Something funny?” he snarls. Then he smacks me in the back of my head.
I yelp, more in surprise than anything else, and Indy barks, “Don’t touch her!”
“Don’t bring the fucking walls down!” our captor snaps.
Indy comes to an abrupt stop and spins around. “Why the fuck did you drag us down here if you were so worried about being trapped?”
“Because that’s not how it’s supposed to work!”
My head swivels between them. My heart is racing.
For the last ten minutes, since this jerk dragged me and Indy from the van and forced us into the creepiest cave I’ve ever seen, we’ve been doing exactly as told.
Walking quietly. Calmly. Not trying to fight back.
As we’ve continued deeper into the tunnels, Indy keeps flicking quick glances over his shoulder, checking to see if I’m okay. And checking to see if that awful syringe is still positioned to sink into my skin, which, until the last minute or so, it has been.
But with this latest conversation, it seems like our captor’s attention is split.
Before, he was focused on keeping the syringe close to my neck; close enough that he could inject me in moments if he wanted to.
Now, he’s distracted by this back and forth with Indy. At least, I think he is.
I’m too scared to turn around to look, so I have to go by Indy’s reaction instead. And that’s not the easiest to read, given that we’re walking down an unlit tunnel with only one flashlight to light our way.
“How is it supposed to work, then?” Indy asks. He sounds carefully calm. But there’s a sharp edge to his voice. “Why don’t you tell me? What’s your plan?”
“It’s none of your fucking business,” the man snaps.
“I think it is my business. You threatened to kill my girlfriend. You drugged me. Tied her up. Hurt her—” A low rumble sounds in his chest. “And now you’re dragging us down into an abandoned mine.” Indy glances around. “Coal, my best guess. Where are we? West Virginia?”
“Shut up.”
Spittle sprays across the back of my neck.
Eww.
I know it’s not a big thing considering, but still. He spit on me.
“You went through all this trouble,” Indy continues. “Sneaking into her apartment, taking us both hostage, driving us all the way here… If you’d wanted to just kill us, you could have done that already. So, where are we? And why did you bring us here, of all places?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Just turn around and keep walking!”
Indy doesn’t move. “I think this has gone on long enough,” he says. “Let her go. You want a fight? Be a man about it. Fight me. Not an innocent woman.”
Something shuffles behind me.
“She’s not innocent!”
“She is.”
“She isn’t! She ruined everything!”
Indy takes a step forward. “What did she ruin?”
“The plan!”
My pulse jumps.
The only plan I know of was Manny’s. But he’s in jail.
Indy pins the man behind me with his gaze. “Whose plan?”
“Mine!” It’s defiant. Almost petulant. “My plan. Mine and Manny’s.”
“Manny wasn’t working with anyone,” Indy replies. “He said he was working alone. All the evidence was at his apartment.”
There’s a long pause.
“It was my plan,” the man finally says. “Not Manny’s. Mine. He did what I told him to. What Mother told us to.”
What?
Indy catches my eye. He jerks his chin to the left. Then he asks, “You’re Manny’s brother? There’s no record—”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“No,” Indy replies. “But he never mentioned a brother. So you can imagine my confusion.”
“Well, he is.” In that same odd tone, Manny’s brother—his brother?—continues, “Mack and Manny. The two Ms. The brains and the brawn. That’s what Mother always said.”
“What?” I blurt. “Brothers?”
“Shut up!” The man, no Mack, smacks the back of my head again. “Just shut. Up.”
“Don’t hit her!” Indy growls. “Keep your fucking hands off her!”
“I’ll do whatever I want!” Mack fires back. “She ruined it! She and that fucking woman! Now the plan is fucked! Manny’s in jail! The traitors know! I’ll never get to them now!”
A soft rumble sounds in the distance.
My heart lurches to an unsteady stop.
The tunnels.
The entrance was intimidating enough, with broken wood and shattered stone and piles of trash scattered all around it. And the first bit of tunnel within, when I could still see the water-stained walls, looked like it had been plucked straight from a horror movie.
It looked abandoned, just like Mack said it was.
And while I didn’t think normal conversation would cause a collapse, this isn’t normal conversation. It’s shouting.
“It’s only right!” Mack continues ranting. “Mother wanted the traitors dead! And now I’ve failed because of her!” He shoves me again. “So you’re going to be punished instead!”
“Stop. Touching. Her.”
“No! I’ll do what I want! And if I want to hurt this nosy bitch before I leave both of you to die down here, I will!”
The beam of the flashlight bounces off metal and stone, briefly illuminating a fork in the tunnel just up ahead.
Just as the light hits Indy’s face, he jerks his head to the left again. It’s the smallest movement, almost unnoticeable, but this time, I get it.
He wants me to run.
But when? How, when I won’t be able to see? And does he really expect me—
“It’s her fault!” Mack shouts. “And she needs to die down here!”
As the echo of his voice tapers off, there’s a moment of stillness.
Then everything happens at once.
Mack punches me.
His fist clips me right behind the ear, knocking my implant off and making my head spin.
Pain explodes in a firework of white light.
I fall to my knees. Bits of jagged stone slice into my bound hands as I try to catch myself.
Indy leaps at Mack with a roar of anger.
Something hits the ground.
Mack shouts something unintelligible.
The flashlight rolls, flashing drunken patterns across the walls.
With my head spinning from the punch and with one implant gone, everything feels unbalanced. Funny. Nauseating.
“Bea!” Indy shouts. “Go!”
But I can’t go.
I can’t leave him.
To my right, I catch a sickening sound of flesh hitting flesh.
My stomach lurches.
“Bea. Go. Please.”
Moving solely on instinct, I scramble to my feet, swaying as I do it.
“You bastard!” Mack shouts.
“Coward!” Indy snaps. “Face me like a man!”
Flesh hits flesh again.
What little I can see blurs with tears.
“Bea.” Indy’s voice is the calm in the storm. “Hide. I will find you. I promise.”
Then, a beat later, he pleads, “Please, Bea. Go. Please.”
I don’t want to.
I’m scared to leave him.
But I trust him, too.
So I run.
Stumbling. Ricocheting off walls when the light cuts out. Feeling hot blood coat my hands every time I fall.
But I do it because he asked me to.
Because I trust him.
After what seems like an eternity, but is probably less than a minute, I hit the V in the tunnel and take off to the left, into the pitch-black. Using my hands to feel my way, I travel a little further before finding a small crevice notched in the wall.
Is it far enough to hide but close enough for Indy to find me?
Will he find me?
Will he be okay?
Once I’m crammed into the crevice, the reality of it hits me.
We’re somewhere in an abandoned mine. The tunnels could collapse. Indy’s fighting a man with a deadly drug and at least one gun that I saw. And Indy’s unarmed. Restrained with his arms tied behind his back.
Belatedly, I remember the earrings Indy gave me back at Blade and Arrow.
Ones with little GPS tracking units in them and a button to press so if I’m ever in trouble, they can find me.
I triggered the alert back when we were still in the van, as soon as I realized Indy was alive and my panic attack subsided.
But his team is across the country.
We’re deep in the mines, surrounded by tons of stone that will probably block the signal.
So how can they find us?
And what if Indy—
I can’t bear to think it. He has to be okay.
I can’t lose him.
Let him be okay. Please.