Page 9 of Claws and Feathers

“Tomorrow you will die, Little Bird.”

Each day – each agonizing, dragging day – Abby would wait. She had no other choice but to wait. She would wait for him to come back to her, and in some twisted way, she would look forward to his arrival. He was her only source of human contact; her lifeline. If he didn’t come back, she would fade away. Somehow, that seemed worse than being shot, or stabbed, or strangled. Feeling the life slowly drain out of her was undoubtedly more horrifying than anything else she could imagine. And,oh, did she imagine. She imagined awful, vile things.

But this was worse.

The Man wouldn’t say much to her – though, he often talked to himself. He spent most of their time together working up the courage to kill her. It was an unusual feeling, observing her kidnapper talk himself into murdering her. It was terrifying. And yet, there were moments when she had begged him to just do it. To get it over with. To put an end to her suffering and unknowns. It would be easier that way.

He never could.

Sometimes he would become angry with himself, furious he was unable to snuff out her life, and he’d beat her instead. Her last beating had been five days ago when The Man had given her water and a few slices of deli meat before disappearing for good. Abby had devoured her meager meal with voracity, unsure if she’d ever taste salt on her tongue again. At first, she was grateful for it, but then she’d wondered if he had only been prolonging her life so she’d suffer longer.

Abigail.

There was that voice again. It was saying her name. It didn’t sound like The Man, but she couldn’t be certain. She couldn’t be certain of anything.

Knock twice if you’re in there, Abby.

Was this a delusion? She’d had many of those. Her parents had been by her side, feeding her soup, and assuring her she’d be well enough to go to school tomorrow. The mirage had faded as quickly as it had appeared, and Abby had crumbled into tearless sobs.

She tried to say something, but only a wretched squeak passed through her lips.

Knock twice.

Abby lifted one of her hands. It felt like it was being weighed down by a tremendous boulder. Yet, she found an ounce of strength and tapped her knuckles against the steel siding.

Once. Twice.

The next few minutes were a blur as she lay slumped over and shackled to the floor, waiting for whatever happened next. When the two double doors were pulled open, she squeezed her eyes shut. There was a blazing spotlight shining right on her, confusing her,blindingher. It singed her fragile irises. For a quick and discerning moment, she missed the darkness.

There were footsteps. Careful, deliberate footsteps. They were approaching her. Abby curled her body tightly into itself the best she could.

“Abby.”

That voice. She recognized that voice. It embraced her like a tender hug, and her body instinctively relaxed. She wanted to open her eyes to see his face, but she couldn’t. The light was too bright – it wastoo much.

“Abby. It’s Officer McAllister with the Crow’s Peak Police Department. You’re safe now.”

His words sounded far away, but she felt his presence. She felt his life radiating into her, making her warm again. Abby tried to reply, but nothing came out.

“Are you with me, Abby?”

She knocked twice.

Oh,hell.

Cooper fell to his knees, cradling Abby’s head in his lap as Officer Holmes cut through her ankle chains with bolt cutters. He ran his hands through her dirty hair, feeling her shake and tremble beneath his touch. “It’s okay. You’re okay now.” There was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, mixed with unrivaled relief. Every breath she took was a second chance. Every quiver was a respite. Every blink was athank God. “Is he still here, Abby? Is he armed?”

Officer Kravitz poked his head in. “All clear!”

The bastard got away.

The moment Abby’s ankles were freed, and the ropes around her wrists were cut loose, Cooper scooped her up into his arms and stood. It felt like one of those slow-motion, cinematic moments as he carried her out of the van, his fellow officers watching with both shock and awe. Cooper glanced down at her face. Colorful bruises adorned her eyes and cheekbones. Her lips were chapped and tinged purple. Her cheeks were blanched and hollow. She was so frail – so unlike the vivacious woman he had met two weeks ago.

Abby’s eyelids fluttered, then snapped shut, rejecting the sunlight. She tried again, squinting thoughtfully through sunken eyes. Her brows creased together, and she looked at him, her body lying limp in his arms. “It’s you.”

It’s you.He never thought he’d see her again. Cooper pulled her closer to his chest as they approached the ambulance, and Abby, in turn, found enough strength to wrap her arms around his neck. The gesture becalmed him.

A gurney was waiting for them across the wetlands as he traipsed through the sedges and tall grass. Cooper’s eyes lowered to the woman he was carrying, and she blinked up at him, her own eyes finally adjusting to the light of day. “We’re going to get you to the hospital,” he told her gently, watching as new emotions splayed across her fragile features.

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