Saving Rachel

When did you fuck her—while I’m at work every day? In some hotel room?” She gives Karen a withering look. “Or maybe you offer a discount for in-call at your place.”

Karen says, “I don’t even know what that means.”

Rachel turns back to me and spits her words. “Real classy, Sam.”

The three of us are quiet a moment, though Karen continues whimpering. Rachel finally breaks the silence. Her voice has changed. She’s no longer screaming. She seems sad, hurt.

“These bastards kidnapped me,” she says, “slapped me around, threatened me. And all the shit I was going through, terrified, I kept thinking about you. No matter what they did to me, I thought I was going through it for you.” She lowers her eyes. “I never would have taken you for a cheat. With all your flaws, this is something I never saw coming. What a fool I am.” “Rachel, I—” “Oh, shut up, you son of a bitch.” Karen says, “Sam—” I say, “I’m sorry, Karen. I should have told you.”

“Her?” Rachel says, suddenly angry again. “You should have told her? You should have told me, you son of a bitch!”

“You told me you loved me,” Karen says.

Rachel gives me a hard-as-nails look.

“I do love you,” I say.

Karen says, “You do?”

Rachel says, “Excuse me?” “It’s complicated,” I say. “You no-good fucking bastard,” Rachel says. At which point, the voice interrupts us, saying, “Sorry to break in, people, but it’s time to take this to the next level.”

Chapter 23

“Who are you?” Rachel says to the voice. “Why are you holding me? I don’t have the fucking codes!” “What are they talking about, Sam?” asks Karen. “What codes?” I look down at my feet, ashamed. “It’s complicated,” I say.

The voice says, “Ladies, allow me to explain. As you may know, Sam has developed a system to hide money from the authorities. By our estimate, he controls at least eight billion dollars for his clients, most of whom are terrorists, murderers, and thieves. The reason we’re all here, my associates and I want that money. Sam has the access codes. All he has to do is type in the eighteen codes, and we’ll set him free.”

“What about me?” Rachel says. “I’m not involved in any of this. Why are you keeping me here?”

The voice says, “You’re here to help motivate Sam to do the right thing.”

I say, “What’s the next level?”

The voice says, “You wanted proof we’d let you go. But we can’t let you go until you give us the codes. So we’re going to do the next best thing: we’ll give you the opportunity to save one of your women.” All three of us are visibly shaken. I say, “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Choose one of them, Sam.” “Choose one for what?” I say. “Choose one of them to live.”

I look at Karen and Rachel. They’re wearing matching expressions of horror. I’m sure I look just as bad. I start retching. The sandwich I ate is trying to come back up. I jump to my feet and force myself to gain control of my body.

“I’m not going to sentence one of them to die,” I say.

There was a momentary pause. “You’re certain about that?” the voice says.

The girls are making all sorts of sounds, I’m sure, but I can’t hear them. My captors have turned off their microphones. The girls are both terrified, of course. I can see them banging their fists on the wall. I’m not an accomplished lip-reader, but the word “Sam” is pretty easy to decipher. They’re both screaming my name. I’m standing in my cage, turning both palms down to show them a “try not to worry” gesture.

“I’m certain,” I tell the voice. “I’m not going to sentence one to die.”

Another pause, this one longer than the previous one, and then, with a weary, almost defeated tone, the voice says, “Very well, Sam. We’ll kill them both.”

I’m not sure of much that’s happened since whenever it was I made love to Karen in the hotel room, which could have been today, yesterday, or a week ago. But I am sure of one thing: these guys, my captors, need me. They’re not going to kill Karen and Rachel. At least not until they’ve gotten my codes.

“You’re bluffing,” I say.

The voice says, “Sam, we had to disconnect the microphones while we made an adjustment. In a moment, you’ll hear a whirring sound coming from the ladies’ cells. That sound is a vacuum pump, and it will be removing the oxygen from their cells. Once the pump powers up, the microphones will come back on, and you’ll be able to hear their last words.” I shake my head. “That’s absurd,” I say. “Nice try, though.” I look at Rachel and Karen, wink, and make a circle with my thumb and forefinger to show them everything is okay. Then the sound comes on, and I can hear the vacuum pumps sucking the air out of their containers.

Chapter 24

Addressing the voice, I say, “And now I’m supposed to believe that all the air is being sucked out of their cubicles? Not possible.”

The voice says, “Sam, you’ve got a scientific mind; you should be able to follow this. Think of these cells as vacuum storage containers like the ones you might use in your kitchen, to keep things fresh. You, Rachel, Karen, Donovan Creed—you’ve all been placed in hermetically sealed plastic storage containers. Every twelve minutes since you became our guest, we’ve pumped fresh air into your cell. The new oxygen-rich air forces the carbon dioxide-laden air out. If we stop pumping fresh air in, you’d survive maybe three or four hours.”

I look at the containers holding Rachel and Karen. Both women are sitting on the floor. Their mouths are moving, but they appear lethargic. It doesn’t seem possible they could be affected to this degree in such a short period of time. I search my brain, trying to come up with an alternate theory. I think I might have one.

“If you suck all the air out of the containers, the walls will implode,” I say, having no idea if this theory makes the slightest bit of sense.

“Sam, once again, we’d ask you to think about the vacuum storage containers used in kitchens all over the