Читать книгу Every Second - Rick Mofina, Rick Mofina - Страница 21

15

Somewhere in New York

Lori Fulton opened her eyes.

Her ears were pounding in time with her heart.

The van had stopped hours ago and since then sleep had come in tortured snatches. Each time Lori woke, she realized that she was a prisoner in a nightmare.

Billy was asleep, his head on her lap.

They were sitting on the floor of the windowless van, backs against the reinforced wall that divided the cab from the rear. She could feel him trembling. They were still wearing the bomb vests. The tiny red light on each of their battery packs continued to blink.

How much time do we have?

Ever since they’d stopped, she hadn’t seen their captors. She had no idea where they were—she heard no sounds of the city. No traffic, no construction, no noise other than a few chirping birds.

Did they abandon us?

She didn’t know what time it was. Daylight seeped in through the van’s door frame, so she knew it was no longer night. Tape still sealed their mouths and their hands. Suddenly Lori chided herself—should’ve thought of this sooner—and raised her hands, working her fingers to pull the tape from her mouth. She drank in the cool air, welcomed it on her skin as she stretched her jaw.

Her movements had awakened Billy and he sat up, blinking.

“Shh.”

She kissed his forehead, then slowly pulled the tape from his mouth. He took a deep breath.

“Better?” she whispered.

He nodded.

Lori pulled off the tape around his wrists. His hands were still restrained with plastic handcuffs. Lori held out her wrists so Billy could pull off her tape. Plastic cuffs were locked on her, as well.

She began gnawing on the cuffs, but it was futile, the plastic was too thick. She searched the van’s metal frame for a sharp edge to cut the plastic, but found none. She was afraid to try anything more—there was no telling what might set off the bomb vest—but she couldn’t give up.

She cocked her ears, listening for anyone outside the van, and then very carefully moved to the van’s side door, took hold of the handle and pulled. It refused to move. She turned to the cab. The dividing wall was solid, floor to ceiling. Taking great care, Lori crawled to the van’s rear and tried that door, pulling on the handle with every ounce of strength she had.

No use.

They were locked inside.

She tried to think of a way to take off the vest. She could slide it over her head. Or over her shoulder, shimmy it down and step out of it. The problem was she couldn’t open the front. It was zippered, Velcroed and had wires running across the opening.

It was definitely too risky to start pulling and twisting at it. Besides, she’d overlooked the fact her wrists were locked together.

Then, for a brief moment, she wondered if the vests were real. It was obviously dangerous to drive around in a van with someone wearing a bomb, but maybe they were confident that the vests wouldn’t detonate unless they dialed the programmed cell phone. Still...convincing someone you’d strapped a suicide vest on them was a good way to get them to do whatever you wanted—even if the bombs weren’t real.

Then Lori remembered how Thorne and the others were careful to place the snow tires near them, creating a makeshift blast mat, and that was enough to convince her the vests were real. She rejected any idea of tampering with them. She wasn’t going to gamble with her son’s life.

“Mom?” Billy whispered.

“Shh, honey.”

“Maybe we should yell and scream for help?”

Lori considered it as she shifted next to him.

“That could bring the men right back to us.” Lori brushed his hair.

“Mom, I couldn’t see Sam. What happened to Sam?”

“Shh. I bet he got out through his door. I think I forgot to lock it. You know he’s a big baby around strangers, so he probably ran over to Ward and Violet’s house.”

“Do you think Dad’s going to bring help?”

“We can pray he does. Don’t worry, sweetie. Someone will help us, or we’ll help ourselves. We’ll think of something.”

But what?

A new wave of panic began rippling in the pit of Lori’s stomach. As her eyes swept the van’s interior, she thought of the man named Thorne and what he’d spat at her.

“You deserve what’s going to happen.”

Lori didn’t understand what he’d meant. She hadn’t recognized any of their voices, their mannerisms, their body types. Nothing. So who were they, and why did they talk as if they knew her?

They seemed young, and she wondered if they were military types—experts in explosives, maybe?

But why us?

There were plenty of other, bigger banks in the city they could have chosen. What made them choose Dan’s? The thought of Dan had her stomach roiling again—shouldn’t he have gotten them their money by now? Lori held back her tears, remembering how they’d been arguing for the past few days. All because she’d had a glass of wine at the Coopers’ party because she thought she could handle it.

Dan hadn’t said anything; it was just a look that he’d given her. One that had told her she’d let him down. She’d been hurt by it and lashed back at him when they were alone.

“Get off my back! I don’t need you to babysit me anymore!”

But the truth of it was, she knew he was watching out for her, taking care of her. After all she’d put him through, after Tim, after everything. Dan always stood by her. Always had her back.

The last thing he’d said to her before they’d been separated: “Lori, did they hurt you?”

Oh, God, Dan, I’m so sorry. What if I never see you again, never have the chance to tell you that I love you?

Lori searched the ceiling, trying not to lose control in front of her son.

What did they do with you, Dan?

Lori brushed Billy’s hair, thinking back to having been driven around in the night. They’d been on the road for hours—it must have been hundreds of miles—but how would she know if they’d only gone in circles to confuse her?

She tried to remember if she heard the hum of expressways, the rhythmic clicking of a bridge or the echoing of a tunnel. But it was useless. She had no idea where they might be.

Holding Billy next to her, Lori watched the red lights blinking on the bomb vests. She’d seen videos on news reports of suicide bombers—“We caution you, the images you are about to see are graphic and disturbing”—she’d seen how they obliterated a human being, and those images pushed her back through time to when she was...sitting in the street covered with Tim’s blood, helpless to do anything...

The memory of that night anguished her.

Lori wanted to pray, but Thorne’s words loomed over her.

“You deserve what’s going to happen to you.”

Billy lifted his head.

“Mom?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Listen!”

The sound of someone approaching the van grew louder.