Escape (Chronicles of Hart) (17 page)

Taking the back road was supposed to get them there faster and it gave them an opportunity to look into the vast woods for signs of unusual behaviour within their confines. The trees lined the side of the road, tall with thick foliage in the autumn bloom. Ethan could see a few feet into the forbidding trees. He gazed desperate for a sign of movement or anything that would indicate Grace was close. Then they crossed a large river and Ethan caught a glimpse of the expanse of the forest along the shore line. Trees trailed off past his line of vision. His heart leapt into his throat. Even if Grace knew where she was going, it would take her forever. And with a river to cross, she was unlikely to be in Oneida on the other side. Ethan looked to King and Platt, who had abruptly paused their conversation to look out at the river and expanse of trees that daunted their chances of finding Grace soon. Ethan could tell they felt the same as him; they were going the wrong direction. Unabashed, Peters drove on madly, swerving around an incoming car.

***

Grace found herself at the top of a rolling hill on her knees gasping for breath, with white dots darting before her eyes. She was losing consciousness. Fighting against it, she clawed her way up a tree to look forward. Peering ahead through the trees, she could see that she would be closing in on a house shortly. The sun was hanging low in the sky indicating the night closing in on her again. The orange glow hung low over the house, lighting it up like a beacon in the distance. She stared at it in wonder as the glass in the windows reflected the forest back to her. It reminded her of when she was on the other side of the glass looking out. At this moment she almost wished she still were, and then she shook some sense into herself.

Trees were thinning out. She had worn her voice hoarse mumbling the alphabet to keep her pace. She now only counted each step in her head, just thinking of random numbers as her tired feet paced the rough terrain. Her feet were raw from the days on them in unfamiliar environments. She longed for a pair of shoes, or a soft surface to walk on. Her sore soles missed the worn soft wood of the tower floor. As she raced through the trees towards her destination she felt like she was running in slow motion. A fence loomed at the bottom of the steep cliff ahead, relief washed over her.

Grace paused at the edge of the precipice her clothing clung to her in the gentle cold breeze. She looked down on the house in the distance. The sun hung on the horizon. From here she could see for miles, further into the small town before her. It looked quiet and at peace. Grace was confused for a moment by its aloofness. The town made no noise. No streetcars whizzed down the streets. No children laughing, no one talking. It was as if the town was empty. The lights in the house ahead were intimidating. She considered for a moment staying and living out the rest of her life in the woods. Somewhere inside she knew she would have to keep running if she ever wanted to stop. She set her shoulders and grabbed at a tree branch to begin the climb down. Grasping for tree roots and rocks she slowly clamoured to the bottom. Grace looked down and judged the fall before letting go a few feet from the ground. She landed with a sharp shock up both of her shins beginning a run towards the bottom of the gentle hill below her. Grace slammed into the fence after building momentum on her downhill jog. She stood slowly, winded and began to trace the fence with her hand. Walking towards the front of the property, she hoped someone would be home.

***

Platt and Peters had taken up residence outside the car that now sat parked outside the national park. It idled silently in a small parking lot, next to the analysts’ van. A team was scouting for signs of Grace in the forest while they sat parked here waiting for the signal to either help or leave. The initial excitement of the rescue had long since gone for Ethan. Leaving him unnerved and on edge. He wanted to curl up and sleep to save his energy, but every time he closed his eyes he felt guilty that Grace didn’t have the same option. Wherever she was, she was running for her life. And no matter how hard he tried to stop thinking about it, he couldn’t let the feeling go that she was more tired and deserving of sleep than he.

“She’s not out there is she?” Ethan looked to King, who sat restlessly tapping his foot next to Ethan, staying in the car for warmth and possibly to avoid the awkward conversations Peters and Platt were having outside of the car. To Ethan, they looked like a married couple bickering about what was for dinner.

“No,” King answered plainly, turning his gaze from Platt and Peters towards the edge of the tree line, growing darker by the second.

Ethan looked out towards Platt who was pacing by the tree line. He appeared to be having a heated discussion about the same thing, whether or not Grace was going to be found. “Anything from the other side” Ethan asked, referring to the patch of forest back by the diner. He looked up to King expectantly, knowing that he had recently taken a hushed call outside the car.

“Her footprints were washed away by the storm. Even the dogs can’t track her,” King breathed heavily over his cold coffee. Shaking his head he leaned back into the seat behind him. “If she’s out there, she’s probably lost.” he looked guilty, like he had forced her into the woods. Ethan could see that he felt like he
had
forced her when he sent her with the fake agents. He fell silent again in the back of the stuffy car watching the sky turn deep violet over the trees.

***

Grace had walked the perimeter of the house trailing her fingers along the wooden fence and rough stonework. She struggled to stay upright as she fought her way to the front door. A porch light glowed across a worn stone walkway. Lights shone through the covered windows casting long shadows towards Grace as the sun stopped glowing on the horizon, leaving her basking in only the lights from inside the house.  Grace stepped up to the front door and knocked, faintly making contact with the solid wooden oak of the entranceway. It reminded her of the oak doors her father use to close in her face reminding her cruelly every day that she was not to hear what happened behind them. His office had been a forbidden place in her family home and that had only led to her own curiosity seeing her over the threshold more than once. She stared blankly at the door closed in her face like in her memory. With the last of her strength and years of welled up anger, she began pounding at it like she wanted to break it down before her.

A shuffling began inside moving cautiously towards the door likely wary of her flailing arms pounding at the door that was shaking it in its frame. Voices sounded and then the door swung open, slowly, just enough for someone to peek out cautiously before opening it the whole way. Grace stood face to face with a teenage boy. He rose almost a foot taller than Grace and his long un-kept hair dangled into his eyes. The rocker tee he sported was in a state of disrepair, crumpled like it had been balled up on the floor for weeks. He looked her over with wide eyes, “shit
,” he muttered turning to yell “Mom!” over his shoulder. He backed away from the open door retreating into the small house like a deer caught in headlights as he continued to look at Grace like she was a zombie there to eat his brains.

A woman appeared at the door, tired looking and obviously frustrated that her son had called her over. She took one look at Grace and turned back to him in horror, “James, call 911, tell them we need help,
now!
” she pushed him back into the house with urgency “Go!” She yelled after him as he stumbled off, looking back in confusion. She took Grace gently by the arm and guided her into the house.  She looked out across the driveway with concern before locking and dead-bolting the door behind them.

“What happened honey?” the woman asked, softly leading Grace to a small kitchen table. Looking over Grace’s tangled hair and tattered clothing. She looked back to the door and the trail of mud and blood that Grace had unwittingly trailed into her home. She seemed curious as to what this girl had been through to be so worn.

Grace had forgotten how rough she must look. Dried blood mingled with dirt on her rotting tattered clothes. Her hair was matted to her face in a disarray of dirt and debris. These people must think the worst. And they were probably still far off from how bad it actually was.

“Oh
,” Grace began, startled. She was not sure what exactly to tell her, or where to start.

“Take your time dear,” she continued, rushing around the kitchen pulling food and glasses towards the cluttered table in a hurried panic. She began clearing things off of the table onto the couch across in the living room and then filling the table back up with food. It seemed like anything edible she found was quickly placed on the table. Grace ravenously devoured a glass of water. With an unquenchable thirst, she reached for the pitcher to refill it. The women stopped her and poured Grace a fresh glass looking at the girls shaking hands with pity.

wanted

It was quarter after ten when Jay took the call, direct from his girl at dispatch. He had five minutes to get in there, grab the girl and get out before the real police arrived. The thrill of the chase was only accentuated by the short time frame. This was going to be one of his most intense missions to date, even trials run by the team to keep them fresh rarely got them going so quick. Jay signaled to his team, they were ready for action. It had been years since they had run a live capture. Their practice scenarios to keep the big guys happy had even gotten easier over the years out of boredom. In those scenarios they only had to prove that they were not going soft after all these years, always sharp on their toes.

They were two minutes out when the call came; already waiting in Oneida hoping she would come through. His other team headed back to Hart, useless from their setup on the other side of the river. In situations like this it was always better to have two teams laying in wait, just in case it ended up being a rush job. Racing to the address in their sleek black imitation FBI cars their adrenaline began pumping. He parked his car around the corner as a backup, just in case scenario where they had to sneak her around the block. It was a failsafe they had used for years. Jay raced around the corner where his team had already kicked in the door and fanned into the house, taking over the small space in a matter of seconds. Grab the girl and go. That was it. The family could try and explain it to the police after; they would look crazy anyway. The house had an easy layout. The kitchen and living room were both right inside the front door, with a small walkout to the backyard from the kitchen that was easily secured.

She was sitting in the kitchen with a mother and son. Jay grabbed for her arm as his men circled around to cover all the entrances. She swung a mug at his wrist and blocked him. Standing with swift movement, the girl was preparing to fight the men off. She looked shaky and frail, like a leaf blown through the wind. All covered in brown mud and tufts of orange hair peeking through, she looked easy enough to take down. Taking her lead the mother and son had begun to hit and kick, protecting themselves and inadvertently Grace. She stood between the two, using them like shields. Jay hated fighting the unsuspecting comrades of his targets. He usually went for another route when it came to this. Dropping a smoke grenade, Jay pulled his mask down. This had to go faster if they hoped to outmaneuver the police. He reached for the spot the girl had stood and grabbed her from under the arms. She flailed and kicked at him, dragging her body and squirming to get away. He held tighter, pulling her with ease. He began to drag her out of the house, commanding his men follow. At the foyer he looked down into the terrified eyes of the mother, not Grace. She bit at him, clawing at his arm while she screamed garbled words in terror. He dropped her hard on the floor and marched back into the kitchen.

“Where is she
?” he grunted into the smoke racing back into the house frantically. Men groped through the room, searching for her through the mist. They came up empty handed. She was gone like the smoke now dissipating in the kitchen air.

“Out back
,” Jay demanded, pointing to the sliding back doors off of the kitchen. “Surround the house and wait” Jay commanded, slipping past the screen and into the night.

They would wait out the police and continue looking.  And in the event the police found her first, they would swoop in and take their target before they could call for backup. She would be theirs again. Sirens began to sound as the last of the men evacuated, disappearing into the trees quieter than the rustling of the leaves in the wind.

***

Grace couldn’t breathe. The smoke hung thick in the kitchen air. As the cloud grew she ducked to the floor, crawling under the table. There was yelling and dragging, it sounded like they were all leaving in a hurry. She scurried out of the kitchen and up some stairs. She soon found herself in a bathroom. Slowly closing the door over and locking it, she left the light off. The sounds from downstairs were chaotic. The smoke clung to her insides as she tried desperately to catch her breath as quietly as possible. She was sure they would notice soon that she had gone missing. She just needed one more moment to pull herself together. Quietly she climbed into the bathtub, clutching at her sides as she slowly drew the curtains around herself, giving her a small sense of security for at least a moment or two. 

Sirens sounded outside the house. Grace could see their lights flashing through the shower curtain. Pulsing through the images of flowers and birds that dotted the fabric surrounding her, the mesmerizing blue and reds were hypnotic. The porcelain was cold and as she looked around at the familiar set up she realized it had been years since she had even seen a bathtub. She ran her fingers along the smooth surface in envy. Grace silently reached for the bottle of shampoo sitting across the tub. She smelled the calm lavender with enthusiasm. She missed her old life and now here she was sitting in a tub cowering from her last chance to get it back. She blacked out for a moment, lost in a memory from her childhood. Grace could remember having a big bubble bath, while her mother was getting ready for some big party in the bathroom mirror. The tub was filled with bubbles and she couldn’t have been older than four. The tub had spilled over with bubbles and water. Her mother had looked to her with a warm smile, walked over and turned the water off, tossing a towel on the spill lazily, “Grace” she had chided happily, “you might just be a mermaid” Grace had smiled and splashed in the bubbles happily pretending she was, while her mother continued getting ready. That was the last time she had seen her mother and to this day she wondered if she too had been locked away by her father.