Run (10 page)

HE FELT THE LAUGHTER BEFORE HE
heard it. An ugly rumble from across the room. Guttural, like an animal choking.

The first footsteps -- approaching. A presence, near. Then, words:

Sam Moon.

"I enjoy . . . control.

Gaia . . . taken with you . . . my whole world.

A kick to his rib cage. A shouted question:

. . . dreams come true?

And then, in the slightest whisper:

Do you love her, Sam?

"Sam's bruised eye throbbed as he lifted his head. He had not attempted to use his voice in nineteen hours, but with what he sincerely believed might be the very last breath in his body, over the sound of fading footsteps, Sam answered.

Yes.

"Heather? It's Jeff Landon. . . . So, uh, are you busy Saturday night?"

RRRING. CLICK. BEEP.

"You've reached the Gannis residence. Please leave a message at the beep. Thank you."

"Heather! It's Megan. Oh my God! I am still so totally freaked out by what happened at school today! I can
not
believe Sam, like, actually taped you guys doing it. And gave it to
Gaia?
That's like -- ugh --
so
unbelievably tasteless. It's like, okay, why don't we all just go on
Jerry Springer
? I mean, like, what if you were wearing weird underwear or something, y'know? Okay, so, like, call me as soon as you get in. Bye."

Click. Beep.

What kind of idiot was Megan? She knew Heather didn't have her own phone line. She knew Heather's answering machine was in the family room, where anyone could overhear a message coming in. Heather's parents were actually really good about not snooping, and they would never purposely listen to an incoming call. But what if they happened to be passing through the family room while Megan was ranting about she and Sam "doing it"? Idiot.

Rrring. Click. Beep.

"Hi, it's Ashley. I skipped school today to get my hair highlighted, but I just heard the best dirt! This morning somebody actually showed a video of people having, like,
sex
-- in school! Well, no, I mean, they weren't having sex in school, they showed the video in school. The sex was, like, someplace else. I don't know who was on the tape, though, 'cuz I heard it from Jen, who heard it from Mallory, who heard it from ... I dunno, like, somebody. But now I'm, like, so bummed that I dropped AP econ! Oh! Hey! You're still in that class, aren't you? So
you
must have seen it. Cool. All right, so call me with the info!"

Click. Beep.

It had been going on all day. She'd already erased at least twenty messages on this very topic. But she refused to take the phone off the hook, in case Sam tried to call.

To explain himself.

To apologize.

"To tell her he'd had nothing to do with that damn video.

She'd come home from the disaster at the dorm and spent the last hour lying on the family room sofa, screening calls.

Rrring. Click. Beep.

"Heather! It's Jeff Landon. Heard about your film debut. Whoa. Didn't know you were into that kind of thing. So, uh, are you busy Saturday night?"

Beep.

Heather chucked a throw pillow at the answering machine. It missed by about three feet and bounced off the top of the television. She sighed, then rolled over onto her stomach. Sam's dorm room key bit into her hip. It was still in the front pocket of her pants. She pulled it out and stared at it for a second before flinging it, too, across the room, where it knocked over a framed photo of her and Sam at a Yankees game.

Rrring. Click. Beep.

"Heather, it's Megan again! Are you there? Pick up! I just heard that band Fearless is playing in the park tonight. The drummer's a total hottie! Wanna go? Maybe it'll, you know, cheer you up or whatever. Call me."

That was it! Heather had officially had it. She was taking the phone off the hook, and for all she cared, Sam could go to hell. Let him call. Let him get a busy signal. Let him come over with a dozen long-stemmed roses and apologize in person, like a normal boyfriend!

She was just reaching for the handset when the phone rang again. She jerked her fingers away as though she'd been shocked, then listened.

Click. Beep.

"Hi, Heather. It's Ed. Fargo. Listen, I realize this call must come as a shock, but I have something really serious I need to talk to you about. It's important. It's . . . uh . . . about Sam. He's in trouble. Well, actually, not trouble. More like danger. There's something we have to get out of his room. We're talking life and death here. Sam's life and death. So we were thinking, since you probably have a key to his room, you would bring it to us. Heather, you've got to help us. . . ."

Heather picked up the handset. The machine shut off, routing Ed's voice directly through the phone as she pressed it to her ear.

"Heather? Are you there?"

"She had two words for him: "Who's us?

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, SHE DOESN'T want me involved?"

"I mean," said Ed, wheeling fast to keep up with Gaia's furious pace, "she's all for helping Sam, but she doesn't want you to be a part of it."

"Part
of it? Part of
it?"
Gaia punched her right fist repeatedly against her thigh as she walked. "Doesn't the airhead realize that I
am
it? Didn't you explain that to her?" Gaia slammed directly into a man in a business suit, sending him sprawling. "Sorry," she mumbled over her shoulder. The guy swore after her but was too busy restuffing his briefcase to give chase.

"No, I didn't. I'm guessing it would have done more harm than good." Ed stopped at the corner, waiting for the light. He glanced warily over his shoulder. Gaia half hoped the suit would come yell at her. She needed
a good excuse to hit something.

When Ed had explained that Gaia was involved, the news had, naturally, sent Her Royal Heatherness into convulsions. After some careful negotiations, Ed had managed to get her to agree to discuss it in person -- without Gaia.

"So she's not expecting me?" Gaia asked, holding her hair back from her face to keep it from whipping into her eyes.

"No," Ed answered, staring at the rushing traffic.

"Great."

Gaia stopped fuming long enough to check out the neighborhood. It was a little to the east of the area that was really upscale. It wasn't bad. But there was nothing much to recommend it, either. The streets were lined with smallish apartment buildings that were falling into disrepair -- chipping paint, cracked moldings, windows scratched with graffiti. Plus it seemed like the garbage hadn't been hauled off in weeks.

"Where are we going?" Gaia asked. "Heather's."

Gaia lifted an eyebrow in the direction of the nearest worse-for-wear apartment building. "You mean she doesn't live in some yuppie co-op somewhere in the eighties?"

"Not anymore," Ed said flatly.

They continued in silence for two blocks, then turned a corner and found Heather waiting for them on the sidewalk in front of a nondescript, graying apartment building.

Ed waved.

Heather fired Gaia a hateful look
from thirty paces off.

"I told you not to bring her," Heather said, crossing her arms over the front of her suede jacket.

"This is important," Ed told her. "Gaia's involved, whether you like it or not."

Heather looked like a rabid alley cat. She ignored Ed, focusing all her attention on glaring at Gaia. "Are you sleeping with Sam?"

Gaia rolled her eyes. "Oh, give me a break --"

"Are you?" Heather's mouth contorted with fury.

"Heather!" Ed blurted. He wheeled his chair between the two girls. "This isn't about you," he said firmly, leveling her with a stare. "This is about Sam."

Heather glanced at him, a flicker of interest in her eyes. "Right, so what's going on? How do you even know him?"

Gaia let out an exasperated sigh. The girl had a talent for pointless questions. "It doesn't matter how I know him," Ed said. "What matters is he's been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?"

"The color drained from Heather's face, and Gaia felt her stomach flop.

That was what fear looked like. Gaia found herself fighting back a wave of what could only be called jealousy. She cared for Sam more than anyone would ever know. Yet again she felt deep discomfort at the knowledge that when his life was threatened, she couldn't feel this most basic emotion. But a
conscience-free zone
like Heather Gannis could. Heather could have natural feelings when the guy they both loved was in danger.

Gaia felt like a voyeur as she watched the tears forming in Heather's eyes. She made herself look away.

"By who? Why?" Heather asked.

"We're not sure," Ed said. "Somebody's holding him hostage."

"Oh my God!"

"We think we can rescue him, but we're running out of time."

"Rescue him? When?"

Probably needs to check her Week-at-a-Glance, Gaia thought cynically
. "Sure, I can pencil in Sam's rescue for tonight -- unless there's a sale at Abercrombie
."

"Tonight," said Ed.

"Morbidly curious, Gaia watched Heather closely, feeling an inexplicable loneliness. Heather's eyes were so huge, so filled with terror, they threatened to overtake her whole face. She was actually quaking. Gaia couldn't pull her eyes away. She knew what fear looked like. But what did it
feel
like?
What?
And would she ever know the extent of what she was missing?

"Oh my God," Heather said, her voice quivering. "Oh my God, oh my God!"

"Calm down," said Gaia. "Freaking out isn't going to help anything."

"Shut up!" Heather glared at her. "Just shut up and go away."

"She's not going anywhere," said Ed.

""I don't even want to look at her!" Heather sputtered.

"Then don't," snapped Gaia. "Just give us the key so we can --"

"You're not going without me!" Heather exploded. "Sam is still
my
boyfriend. And besides, it's not the key that's the problem. It's the pit bull of a security guard."

Gaia remembered the guard. She'd slipped by him without much trouble on her own, but all three of them? A towhead, a homecoming queen, and a Boy Scout on wheels. They weren't exactly an inconspicuous bunch.

Heather turned to Ed, and her voice ironed itself into a reasonable tone. "I have to do
something
. I want to help him."

"You'll be helping him by giving us the key," said Ed. "That way, we can get his insulin and bring it to him tonight when they release him in the park --"

Gaia brought her hand down hard on Ed's shoulder, effectively shutting him up, but not soon enough. She watched Heather's face as the information was sent to her mental mainframe.

Damn.

"I'm coming with you. I have to be the one to bring it to him." Suddenly she was overcome with either real emotion or really good acting technique. Her eyes filled with tears again, and her breathing was fast and shallow. "He'll need me," she cried. "He'll need me to take care of him. I'm going with you."

"Oh, no!" Gaia exploded. "No way."

"Heather," Ed said calmly, "it's too dangerous."

She glared in Gaia's direction. "Why is it too dangerous for me and not her?"

Gaia wouldn't have minded showing her. Instead she said, "It's dangerous for everyone. Especially Sam. But I'm going because the kidnapper contacted me in the first place."

Something shifted in Heather's eyes as she digested this information. She seemed to suddenly grow smaller. "Why you?"

"I don't know," Gaia said honestly.

Heather crossed her arms over her chest. "Who do you think you --"

"Yo! Enough." They both snapped their heads around to face Ed. "This isn't helping Sam."

Gaia swore under her breath. Sam's life was in jeopardy, and here she was arguing with Bad-Attitude Barbie. She had to let Ed work on Heather alone for a minute. She turned and headed back toward a small convenience store she'd noticed near the corner.

If all else failed, she could knock Heather's lights out and just take the key.

But something told her that wasn't going to be necessary. Ed would be able to convince her. Maybe it was the
residual tenderness
she heard in his voice every time he talked to her or about her. Maybe it was the way Heather changed -- almost indiscernibly, but still,
changed
-- when Ed looked at her, as though something were happening inside her that she didn't want or expect. It was as if Heather were locked out of her own soul and somehow Ed still had the key.

For the life of her, Gaia could not figure out why that annoyed her so much.

But it did.