Page 4 of Hacker Beloved

“How did you get those photos?”

"First off, there are rules to the game. I advise you to stop asking questions or you will be penalized," he snapped.

“Sorry.”

"Rule one, only I ask the questions and make demands. If you play the game and do what I want at the end, I’ll give you information on your sister.”

And with that bombshell, he taps the mouse, and five pictures appear on the screen. They are all from the night my parents were killed. One picture was of my sister’s room—empty, with no blood. The police report stated my sister was killed in her crib.

I took a moment to catch my breath and gather my thoughts. The detective, my Child Protective Service case worker, and even the people who’d adopted me told me I was wrong. For years I had gone to therapists, and each told me I probably blocked out what happened to my sister. When I questioned the other footsteps, I was told I’d probably heard someone in the condo below ours.

For a long time, I had hoped I would find information about what happened. Now the only person who might have an answer was the same person who would kill me. Deep down, I hoped Asher and CJ would magically appear in the room and save me, but I knew that only happened in the movies.

I wanted to ask questions, but his one rule stopped me from opening my mouth.

"Here is how the game is played. I will let you go free. If you report me, I’ll penalize you. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to put you to sleep. When you wake up in your home, you will receive an email on who your next podcast needs to be about. This podcast needs to be posted within twenty-four hours, or you will be penalized. For the next few weeks, I’ll send you assignments. If you fail, you will receive a punishment. If you mess up five times, the cost is your life. Do you accept the terms?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He snatched a syringe from a nearby tray. Before he turned back to me, a blaring alarm erupted. His gaze flew to the center monitor. I used this moment to yank at the leather strap that held me to the table. A desperate string of muttered curses came from his lips as his fingers moved across the keyboard. The feed switched to what I assumed was the front door security camera. Two men had pushed through the entryway, and their hats pulled low over their faces obscuring any distinguishing features.

My kidnapper slammed his hand against a red button and all the screens went black. Only the flashing white light from the alarm illuminated the room.

A prick in my arm startled me. The masked figure bent down so his mouth was near my ear. “You will receive a punishment for this.” Moments later, my eyes lids were too heavy to stay open.

3

ASHER

The momentwe pushed the warehouse door open, a screeching alarm echoed off the walls. CJ was only a step behind me as I headed deeper into the building. The further we went down the hall, darkness draped around us like a blanket. Only the thin beams of light that shone through the entrance illuminated our path.

On the way across town, CJ had pulled up schematics of the building. We were pretty sure the place she was held was near the furthest rear corner. I turned down a side hallway and jumped over a small box, but CJ didn’t see it and stumbled. My arm shot out and caught him before he fell to his knees.

“We can do this,” I said with conviction.

“We will find her,” CJ replied, his voice barely registering over the alarms.

CJ took a deep breath and appeared to straighten his spine. I nodded in response before pulling away and continuing forward. When we reached a second pathway, I caught sight of the slightly open door at the end of the hall. Without exchanging any words, CJ followed as I made my way down the hall, our bodies tense with anticipation.

Gripping the doorknob tightly in one hand, I shoved open the door with such force that it crashed against the wall behind it.

“Zayla,” CJ whispered next to me.

We rushed to her side. The blare of an alarm ringing through the air muffled our harsh breaths as we made it to her side. Instantly I pressed my finger against her pulse and sighed when I felt a steady heartbeat. A needle hung from her arm, a grim reminder of the danger she was in. She also had a shallow cut near her elbow.

I pulled the syringe from her arm. “Find me something to put this in. We can get it tested.”

CJ grabbed it from my hand and turned toward the desk. I worked to undo the straps around her ankles and wrists. A small whimper came from Zayla’s lips as I repositioned her body on the medical table. CJ had stuck the needle into a small box for safekeeping. The computer was dead and all three monitors screens were black. CJ ran his fingers along the edge of the keyboard, then his gaze fell to the computer tower.

“Can you get anything?”

He paused, considering.

“What are you thinking?” I asked quietly.

---