I’m taken by the arms again as I’m dragged back through the Sanctuary. There’s barely a scuffle of sound. These men know what they’re doing. I know we’re outside when the cold air whips around my t-shirt, the only thing I’m wearing. The stones of the gravel dig into my bare feet. A car door opens and I’m pushed inside, falling across what I assume is the back seat of a vehicle. I’m jerked back into a sitting position and then the door is shut again.
There’s a moment of silence, more doors opening and shutting from other vehicles and then the seat bounces as someone else is shoved in the other side.
There’s a muffled whimpering sound as the engine starts. As the tires crunch over the gravel, the whimpering gets louder and more desperate. Breaths are desperately sucked in through nostrils as someone hyperventilates beside me.
It sounds like Ette.
I struggle against my restraints, but they only dig in deeper, cutting into my skin. I try to scream but the sound gets muffled by the material shoved in my mouth. I breathe deeply through my nose, trying to keep myself calm as Ette continues to cry. I try to shuffle across the seat, but a forceful arm shoves me back.
“For god’s sake take the gag out of the kid’s mouth.”
There’s movement and a scuffle and then Ette starts to scream in earnest.
“Shut her up, would you?”
I jump and twist on the seat, trying to place myself between the men in the front and Ette. She’s screaming and crying. No coherent sounds are coming from her, only terror. Then the material is yanked down from my mouth and I’m able to spit out the gag.
“Ette, Ette, it’s me. Berkley. It’s okay, I’m here,” I say into the darkness.
“Berkley?” she cries.
“Yes, it’s me. It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.” I don’t know if any of this is true, but my only thought is to comfort her before she works herself into an uncontrollable state of panic.
She keeps crying but there’s less desperation to the sound now. “What’s happening?” she says. “I can’t see anything.”
“We’re in a car,” I state the obvious because nothing else is obvious.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m not sure.” I clear my throat, attempting to sound as calm and in control as possible. “Could you tell us where we’re going? Who has taken us?”
“Now would be a good time to stop talking,” comes the gruff reply.
Ette sucks in a labored breath. “Berkley, I’m scared. I don’t like this. I want to go home.”
“It’s okay. We’re together. I’ll—” A sharp slap knocks my head back. Pain radiates over one side of my face.
“Berkley!” Ette screams.
I shake my head as though it will dislodge the ringing in my ears. Ette’s sobbing. She can barely draw in breath.
“It’s okay. I’m okay, Ette. I’m right here.”
“Quiet!”
I shuffle across the seat again until I feel the heat of her body pressed next to mine. “Shh,” I say quietly. “We’ll stop talking for now, okay, but I’m here. I’m right beside you.”
She resorts to quiet hitches of breath. I wish I could hold her hand or look into her eyes to reassure her. But closeness is the only comfort I can offer.
I’m not sure how long we drive for, but eventually, we slow to a stop and coldness floods the car as the doors are yanked open. Ette lets out a pitiful scream as she’s pulled from the car and I’m yanked in the opposite direction. I’m pulled over grass, the dampness coating the soles of my feet. And then I’m inside, on cold and hard floors. Our footsteps echo loudly.
“Ette?” I call out.
But the only response I get is another slap to the face and a command to keep quiet. A door opens, someone slices the plastic from my hands and then I’m shoved, sending me sprawling.
chapter thirteen
JERICHO