Pipe Dreams (6 page)

CHAPTER 11

Though cold and tired, Jeremy
would not leave. He had not expected Vanessa to walk away from the NSO without assistance and was filled with tenderness for her courage. Tonight, he would stand guard over her. Tomorrow, he would approach her.

An hour before dawn, he stretched his stiff body and cracked his neck. His eyes burned from the long vigil, but he was jubilant. Soon, she would give him what he needed. He stood to examine the woman sleeping near him. She was curled in a ball with her hair cascading over her face. Cautiously, he crept closer and scooped her backpack and blanket off of the ground. Without her belongings, she would be even more receptive to what he had to say.

Taking a last look, he stepped back into the foliage. When he returned to the basement, he would assign Michael to surveillance. They could not afford to lose Vanessa in the great maze of the inner-city once the sun crested the buildings and lit the day.

As he turned into the alley that led to the Gate, Michael descended the fire escape at the back of the building. Jeremy set down the pack and blanket and put his hands on his hips.

“Good morning,” he called. Startled, Michael scrambled down from his perch.

“Shit. What are you doin
’ up?”

“Could ask you the same thing.”

“Just needed some space last night, man. Ain’t no big thing,” Michael said.

“Not sure I agree, but I don
’t have time to think about it right now. I’ve got to catch a few hours. Kovalic’s sleeping in the park and I need you on her.”

“What happened?”

“I’ll explain later. You’ve got to get over there. I don’t want her waking up and disappearing on us. You’ve got to stick on her, Michael. This is our chance.”

“Yeah. Right. I
’m on it.”

Jeremy gave Michael the details on Vanessa
’s location. Then he picked up the pack and blanket and slipped his narrow frame through the Gate.

As Michael jogged to the park, the dark and silent world stretched toward morning. From bushes near the clearing, he sighted Vanessa lying in a heap in the wide, open space. She was either stupid or brave as hell. He didn
’t know which, but it didn’t matter. When they had her, Jeremy would be happy for awhile.

As dawn paled the trees, Vanessa stirred and rolled onto her back. After a minute, she sat up and surveyed her surroundings. Then she jumped to her feet and turned in a circle, looking for something. Michael grinned as he remembered the items Jeremy had been carrying. That cat never missed a beat.

Vanessa gave up on finding her belongings and drifted toward the bushes where Michael hid. She squatted and the sour smell of her urine tickled his nostrils. Standing, she zipped her jeans and headed back into the clearing, pulling fingers through her hair to untangle the bits of dry grass and twigs clinging to the strands.

In the square, Vanessa made for the bench and sat with her back erect. After taking several deep breaths and rolling her shoulders, she clasped her hands and stretched them high over her head, palms facing up. Then she opened them and slowly brought her arms down to her sides. When done, she was still for a long time. Finally, she looked under the bench. What she saw startled her and before
Michael could react, she leapt up and sprinted away.

Michael followed, ducking between trees and trash cans to stay low, quiet, and out of sight. When he reached the other side of the park, he frantically swept his eyes up and down the empty street. Vanessa had disappeared. Working to slow his breathing, he tried not to panic. She couldn
’t have gotten far.

Most of the storefronts were covered with gates or rollup doors. Of those remaining, only two offered a reasonable place to hide. One had been a bar and its plain
, wooden doors swung open into a dark interior. Its coolers, closets, and cabinets could easily conceal a small woman like Vanessa. The Laundromat was the other option. She wouldn’t squeeze inside an abandoned washer or dryer, but the stairway that led to his old apartment was ideal for someone trying to disappear. Michael didn’t dare go into one and risk losing her in another. At the same time, he couldn’t just wait for her in the street. Both buildings had backdoors to the alley and it wouldn’t be long before she discovered an exit.

He glanced at the sun and was glad to see how far it had climbed. Facing toward home, he cupped his mouth with his hands and gave a loud cry, praying someone would recognize the emergency signal. “Aieeeee, woo woo woo!  Aieeeee, woo woo woo!”  The sound bounced off the buildings and rose into the crisp, morning air. He waited. When there was no response, he sang it again. This time his call was returned. Shortly after, footste
ps smacked against the pavement and Michael sighed audibly as Ashley bounded into view.

She greeted him breathlessly before looking around, puzzled he was alone in the middle of the street. Briefly, he explained the situation.

“Ashley, who’s behind you?”

“I don
’t know. I just yelled and ran.”

“Okay. Stay here and keep an eye on the Laundromat. I
’m going to check out the bar.” Without waiting for her response, Michael sprinted toward the double doors.

Inside,
his eyes adjusted to the gloom. Overturned tables and assorted debris filled the seating area. Cobwebs hung in the corners. Broken glass from a shattered window covered a section of the hardwood floor. He inched his way to the servers’ station at the end of the bar and gingerly pulled open the swinging gate that led behind it, careful not to make a sound. Holding it with one hand, he dropped to his knees and crawled forward. Vanessa was not there.

He stood, letting the gate swing shut behind him. On the far side of the narrow corridor, he spotted a storeroom. Creeping to the open door, he peered into the
pitch-black interior. Then, using his hands to guide him, he made the circumference of the small room. When he touched the wood molding of a doorframe, he put his hands out and stepped into the opening, expecting to find a closet. Instead, his stomach lurched as his foot met air and he plummeted into the basement below.

On the street, Ashley greeted Jeremy and two other members of the cell. When she finished explaining what had happened, Jeremy turned to the other men and instructed them to guard the alley behind the buildings. Vanessa would have to come out eventually. They would keep watch until she did and talk to her then.

Since Michael had gone into the bar, Jeremy explored the Laundromat, leaving Ashley alone on the street. When the first floor proved vacant, Jeremy climbed the familiar stairs to his old apartment. It had meant something to him once. Though sordid and small, it had been his first adult home and he had been proud of it. Michael and he had dumpster dived for decorations. A couch with torn cushions and badly stained arms, a broken chair, and a coffee table made from milk crates and plywood furnished the living room. Cheap posters and a painting done by a friend graced the walls. Now, the tattered décor was even more decrepit. The rotting carcass of a rat in the bathtub exacerbated the decay.

Jeremy left, softly closing the door on his memories. At the end of the hall, another door led to a fire escape and the alley. He opened it and called to the sentries he had stationed behind the building. They looked up at him, shaking their heads.

On the street, he beckoned to Ashley. “Michael’s not back yet?” he asked.

“Not yet,”
she said.

“Fuc
k!  Where the hell did he go?” Jeremy poked his head inside the bar and yelled. Receiving no answer, he slammed his hand against the doorframe and stormed inside.

CHAPTER 12

Nestled in the branches of
a large tree, Ramirez stared, bleary-eyed, into the morning. Last night, he had been too tired and upset to make the long hike back to his own apartment. Instead, he had found a safe place to hole up while he processed Vanessa’s story.

Running footsteps had startled him from his reverie. Looking down, he had seen Vanessa running toward him from across the square. A man was in hot pursuit, ducking between trees to avoid detection. Seconds had passed before Ramirez
’s instinct and training kicked in. He had dropped onto the park bench he used as a ladder the night before and grabbed Vanessa as she ran by. Placing a hand over her mouth to stifle her scream, he had identified himself and pointed out the man bobbing and weaving through the foliage behind her. They had scaled the lower branches of the tree before the man emerged from the park.

Now, they were both intent on drama in the street. After the men had vanished into the bar, the girl paced while she waited for them to return. Even from this distance, her blackened eye was readily apparent and Ramirez was certain she was the girl from the video in Vanessa
’s file.

As he pondered this, a hair-raising call startled him. The girl had also heard it and was scanning the area.
In a voice twisted and dangerous, the call came again. “Here kitty, kitty, kitty.” The girl hugged herself as another call came from the opposite direction. “Dinnnnner time,” it rang out in a high pitch. Ramirez shivered. The girl spun in a circle then ran to the door where the men had disappeared. After looking inside, she returned to her post. A third voice joined the chorus. “Soup’s on boys,” it chimed loudly.

The calls resounded in the park, getting louder as they got closer. The girl was frozen, her frail body a stick figure on the street. Without warning, she screamed, but her small voice did not travel far.

Ramirez fought his instincts and stayed quiet in the tree. Why didn’t she leave, or even go into the building after her men? “Run girl!  Run!” he whispered, praying she would somehow hear him.

It was quiet now. The girl stood like a statue. The air was brittle. Any small movement would break the tension and it would crack. Ramirez unclasped the strap that held his gun. Easing the heavy weapon from its holster, he hefted it into position and took aim. Then the girl sprinted away. As she crossed out of his line of sight, the voices sang out again. “Here kitty, kitty,
kitty,” cried one. “Dinnnnner time,” called another.

The girl reappeared, heading toward the park. When the third voice shrilled, “Soup
’s on!” the girl stopped short and began walking backward toward the buildings, her eyes wide and her mouth open. Ramirez caught another movement out of the corner of his eye. A stalker had come into view. He was mostly naked. A small cloth covered his genitals, colorful paint decorated his lean body, and his blond hair was wild. An elaborate necklace hung from his neck and he carried a long piece of metal pipe in one hand. “Here kitty, kitty, kitty,” he said. A menacing grin stretched across his face and his free hand reached for the girl, fingers wiggling in mock invitation.

She screamed, turning to run into the building where her men had gone. Suddenly another scantily clad, painted figure emerged at a dead run on Ramirez
’s right. Ramirez fired his gun, but the shot missed. The figure grabbed the girl, threw her over his shoulders, and fled back in the direction from which he had come. Vanessa cried out as Ramirez holstered his weapon and climbed over her in his frantic effort to get out of the tree. 

“Stay here!” he whispered before letting go of the branch. His feet slammed onto the ground. Dropping to a crouch, he surveyed the scene. The man with the pipe had vanished. Another, presumably the third caller, had joined the kidnapper. They ran with the girl, who kicked and beat on her assailant without effect. At the end of the block, they turned the corner and disappeared.

Ramirez got to his feet and took off after them. Everything was a blur except the target. The girl’s affiliations didn’t matter now. She was a victim and he was, once again, a cop with a clear objective.

Rounding the corner, he caught a glimpse of the perpetrators cutting across the parking lot of an abandoned gas station. He fo
llowed, pushing himself harder, and managed to gain on them, in spite of the burn in his lungs. After several blocks, they slowed. Ramirez dropped into an alcove to watch what they would do. They stopped in front of an old fire station. The one who had his hands free put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. After a moment, a door opened. The men hurried inside, carrying the screaming girl with them.

Ramirez bent over and put his hands on his knees, breathing
heavily. Alone, with a limited number of bullets, no back up, and no way to call for help, the situation was bleak. His only recourse was patience. He pulled as far back into the shadows as he could, without losing his line of sight, and settled in to wait.

CHAPTER 13

Vanessa’s heart was in her throat.
Waiting for Ramirez, she licked her lips, trying to ignore her thirst. The tall, black man had emerged from the bar, limping. Then he had hobbled away. He returned soon after, hopping on crutches and accompanied by a group of people. Two of them wielded a crude stretcher. Others carried flashlights. A heavyset woman in a green sweatshirt gave orders. She had a small, black carrying case in her hand. As a unit, they shuffled inside the building.

When they came out, the procession was reversed and the man who had chased her lay unmoving in the stretcher. The group disappeared up the street, but the black man remained behind. He reeled backward until his body hit the building. Letting his crutches fall, he sank to the ground. His shoulders shook and his loud sobs echoed, ragged and raw.

In the tree, Vanessa trembled violently. The man’s grief sucked all the air from the morning until everything was consumed by his ravaged wails. Suddenly she was also crying, unable to restrain her rage and hurt any longer. Blinded by tears, she felt her way through the branches and dropped to the ground. She staggered toward the man, holding her sides as if the pressure would stop her from flying into a million pieces. He did not move as she approached. Finally, she stood in front of him with her hand outstretched.

Vanessa did not know who he was, why his friend was chasing her, or what had brought him to this broken state. She only knew that he was unafraid of being human. He reached out to grasp her hand, tenderly pulling her down until she kneeled before him.

“I’m sorry,” she said between racking convulsions. “I’m sorry.”

He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek.
“I have waited a long time to meet you, Vanessa. This isn’t how I wanted it to be, but I’m glad you came.” Bruised by too much hurt, his voice was a scratch.

“I saw what happened to the girl,” Vanessa whispered. His face quickened.

“To Ashley? You saw what happened to her?”

“Ashley,” Vanessa repeated. Her name fit. The girl was fragile, soft, and beautiful.

“Vanessa, I need you to tell me everything. Can you do that?  Can you help me?”

She took a deep breath and recounted the story. “We have to go,” he said when she finished. “We have to go now.”  He reached for the crutches and stood. Vanessa pushed herself to her feet and they walked up the street. As he limped along, she asked his name. A wave of disbelief crossed the hard planes of his face and he apologized. “My name is Jeremy, Vanessa. I
’m hoping we can be friends.” The idea of friendship was so strange that she choked out a rough laugh. Jeremy glanced at her sharply, but a lifeline as thin as cobweb stretched between them.

The morning sun was high in the sky when he steered them into an alley. Halfway down the brick-walled corridor, he stopped to whistle. When his signal was returned, he pointed to a large crack in the building. “You
’ll have to carry one of these,” he said, gesturing with a crutch. “I’ll have to lean on you so I can show you the way.” 

Vanessa swallowed hard and let him lead her. He handed her a crutch and placed his long, stringy arm around her shoulders. “Are you ready?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he guided her to the opening. The recessed concrete created a small opening behind the brick. At his nudging, they sidled through it, entering a dark tunnel. Vanessa tensed. She had never liked closed spaces.

He pushed her forward. As they inched into the black, she balked. The darkness squeezed her chest and she could not breathe. Spinning around, she tried to shove him out of her way, but he was indomitable.

“Vanessa, there
’s no other place for you to go. It’s going to be okay. You just have to trust me.” His voice soothed her and the panic receded. She asked him to keep talking and he did, teaching her how to count steps so she would not get lost in the tunnel.

The path widened as they made their descent and soon they were side by side. She clung to him, even as her body supported his weight. Eventually he stopped. Handing her the other crutch, he opened a door, filling the tunnel with warm, yellow light. They stepped into a huge room and her mouth dropped open. Was this Jeremy
’s home?

Immediately, people surged around them, all talking at once. The surreal environment and chattering voices overwhelmed her. Dizzy, she blinked rapidly and tried to make the sensation go away, but her efforts were futile. She dropped the crutches. They clattered as her legs buckled and she fell to the floor.

A woman’s voice filtered into her consciousness. Someone called for water. When she opened her eyes, the woman in green hovered over her. “Vanessa, can you hear me?” Dry mouthed and fuzzy, Vanessa did not reply. Fingers snapped in front of her face and she jerked, startled. The woman smiled. “When was the last time you had something to drink?” she asked. Vanessa was silent. Who were these people? Kindness? Concern? This was not the world she knew.

The woman bent down, placed an arm underneath Vanessa
’s head, and lifted her. Then she placed a cup on Vanessa’s lips. “Drink,” the woman said. Vanessa did and the water was sweet. She took the cup and drank a long swallow, cooling her burning throat. “Can you stand?” the woman asked. Not waiting for an answer, she helped Vanessa to her feet and put her arm around her back. ”Come on, girl. Let’s get you comfortable.”

In the library, Jeremy sat in a worn, leather chair. One of his legs rested on an ottoman, a heavy bandage around his bare foot. Two men occupied an adjacent couch. Vanessa hesitated, scanning their faces. She needed to understand this place.

Jeremy smiled reassuringly and waited for her to find a seat before continuing his conversation. She listened quietly, learning a great deal. Michael, the man who had chased her, had a broken leg, a concussion, and might be bleeding internally. The woman in green was named Mariah. She was the medical expert in the group and her concern was palpable as she described Michael’s injuries.

The conversation turned from Michael to Ashley. Jeremy told the story of the girl
’s abduction and Ramirez’s pursuit. As the group argued about what to do, Jeremy swiveled to face Vanessa.

“What can you tell us about the detective?” he asked.

“I think he’s a good man, but I don’t know him.” How could she tell them about the way he had covered her nakedness, or why he had needed to do it?  She couldn’t. Instead, she told them he was passionate, efficient, and competent. She had been impressed by his behavior in the park, in the tree, and on the street. When he went after the girl, she had cried with relief.

The heated discussion resumed. Finally, Jeremy held up his hand, stopping the debate.

“At this point, I’m unwilling to risk any more people. In spite of what Vanessa said, I’ve never met a cop I could trust. We have no idea what his motives are, or why he went after Ashley, so we have to assume the worst. Until we know different, that’s the way it’s going to be. Everyone stays inside today in case the bone people come back. I’m going to sleep for a few hours. Then we’ll talk again. Mariah, wake me if anything changes with Michael. Vanessa, please come with me.” He held out a hand. She took it, relishing its warmth, and stared at him in wonder.

“Who are you
people?”

He paused, assessing her. Then he sighed. “We
’re survivors, Vanessa. Just survivors.”