close to dying. I kept my eye on the signal bars as I moved, hoping I would eventually move into a spot where there was something I could use.
About ten minutes later, one lone bar appeared.
I stopped walking and kept my feet planted on the ground. I didn’t bother to shoot off another text, not just yet. Instead, I redialed 9-1-1.
The phone rang.
“9-1-1, please state your emergency.”
I sagged in relief. “My name is Honor Calhoun. I was kidnapped. I’m being held in the woods.”
The woman started to talk and then line went dead.
I screamed, my throat feeling raw and the force of my yell causing pain in my ribs. Tears blurred my vision, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t need to see down here. I was trapped, alone, in nothing but a dirt hole where I was to await some hideous fate.
Had my luck with the phone run out? As the night wore on, would the darkness chase away the slim signal I’d been clinging to since I pulled out this phone?
Dread was a hard knot that settled in the pit of my stomach. I glanced at it again. Still no signal. I thought about Nathan. About where he was. If he thought I was dead because I never replied, would he give up on me?
10
Nathan
The inside of the police station was like a ghost town. It seemed odd that they would have such a skeleton crew working on a Friday night.
I rushed in the set of front double doors, expecting to be greeted with noise and uniforms, with concerned faces and a staff of support ready to help me find Honor and bring down that sick bastard Lex.
I wasn’t expecting to be met with a bunch of ringing phones and a couple of secretaries sitting behind desks cluttered with paper.
One of the women perked up when she saw me stop behind the chest-high counter between us. She got up from her desk and hurried forward, her blue dress swishing around her ankles as she moved.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“I need to report a missing person.”
She pulled out a stack of forms and a clipboard. “When’s the last time you saw the missing person?”
“I’ve never met her.”
That earned me an odd look. The woman lowered the clipboard. “You want to report a missing person that you’ve never met?” I nodded and opened my mouth to explain further. She got this pinched look on her face. “I don’t have time for pranks, young man.”
“This isn’t a prank. I have proof. And I’m pretty sure she was kidnapped.”
For some reason, that statement didn’t seem to warrant any kind of urgency. Frankly, I found it offensive. I opened my mouth to tell her exactly what I wanted her to do when she thrust the clipboard, bursting with papers, in front of me.
“Here, go sit down. Fill these out. Someone will be with you when they can.”
“This is an urgent matter,” I said.
“As soon as someone gets back, they will help you.”
“Gets back from where?”
She sighed, exasperated. “There was a massive pileup over on Route 210. Mass casualties. All our personnel have responded.”
“How long ago was this?” I asked, thinking that might be the traffic Lex said held him up on his way to poker.
“About an hour ago, maybe a little more.” The phone on her desk started ringing and she gave me a look before rushing off to answer it. I glanced at the other woman behind a desk. She was on the phone too, writing something down.
A feeling of dread formed in the pit of my stomach. An accident with mass casualties could keep the station here busy all night. I sat down in one of the black, uncomfortable chairs against the wall and glanced at the papers in my hand.
I swore under my breath. The only thing I knew was her name. I didn’t know any of this. The only way I was going to get someone to take me seriously was to show them the texts on my phone.
I glanced down at the dark screen.
She hadn’t replied to my last text. I wondered if she even got it.
I need to know where you are, I typed out.
I sat there for a long time, waiting for an officer to come and help, waiting for a reply from Honor.
I’m in the woods. In a hole. My phone buzzed with her reply. I felt immediate relief because at least the lines of communication were still open… at least she wasn’t dead.
Where?
Not sure. I was in Slatington when he took me. On the trail.
I wasn’t that far from Slatington now. I could go and look around. Unfortunately, there were mountains and woods all over this part of the state. The trail in Slatington ran for thirty miles. I could veer off the trail to look in the wooded areas, but that was a lot of ground to cover.
But it was a start.
Do you have GPS? I texted back.
Several long moments later, I got her answer. Yes.
I stood up abruptly and laid the clipboard in the now empty seat, and I headed for the door. I heard the secretary call out behind me, but I didn’t stop.
Screw waiting for help.
I was a United States Marine.
I was the help.
I climbed into my Jeep and fired up the engine.
This is what I want you to do… I texted and then started to drive.
11
Honor
I walked forever it seemed. Looping around the hole until there was a definite path in the crudely dug ground. Hope was a strong emotion, but it was fleeting.
How incredibly hard it was to hold on to when it seemed that everything was working against me. The words of my kidnapper seemed to echo in the enclosed space around me.
What kind of grim fate awaited me when he returned? The writer in me conjured up all sorts of scenarios —not one of them good.
I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I knew what was coming. I knew the kinds of things that a man who kidnapped women wanted. I shuddered and leaned against the damp, muddy wall. I should prepare myself.
How did one prepare herself for rape and grisly murder?
Just when despair seemed ready to take a giant bite of my sanity, the phone buzzed.
