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“Nathan,” she breathes my name out like she’s on the verge of tears.
“Callie, what’s wrong?” My heart is beating fast, but I’m holding my breath, waiting for her to tell me she’s okay.
“I think I messed up,” her voice trembles, but I can hear her moving, the wind making the sound crackle. A car door slams shut before I have a chance to respond.
“What happened? Where are you?” I ask her, the panic clear in my voice. I’m too on edge to remain calm, hearing the fear in her voice.
“St. John’s Hospital. I thought you were hurt,” her voice is still shaky.
“What made you think that?” My brain registers that St. John’s is only 30 minutes from here, so I hit the gas, heading in that direction. She hasn’t responded yet, making me pull the phone from my ear to make sure the phone is still connected. “Callie?” I yell, probably harsher than I should have, but I’m too worried to care.
“Someone is watching me,” she whispers, even though she’s inside her car like she’s afraid they’ll hear her.
“Callie, what the fuck is going on? Get out of there!” I yell into the phone again. I hear her start her car, the engine coming to life.
“I’m sorry, someone called me and said you were here and you were hurt. I sped here without even thinking. I thought you were dying.” She’s fully crying now, her tears evident even through the phone.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m okay. Just get the hell out of there and get back on the highway, I’ll meet you halfway.” I try to calm my tone, so I don’t upset her more, even though I’m terrified. There is no reason someone would call her, not unless it was a setup. As I drive by the Sheriff’s Department, I glance in the windows. With the lights on and it being nighttime, I can see right inside. No one’s there. It’s empty. Fuck. He must’ve slipped out the back. I slam my hand against the steering wheel. Fucking bastard.
I hear tires squealing through the speaker, and Callie’s breath catches. “No, no, no…” She’s mumbling, her fear projecting through the phone.
“What is it? Callie?” I floor it, I know it’s not possible to get there any faster but I’m not thinking rationally. “Callie?” I yell again, needing to know what’s happening. Glass shatters, and I hear her scream. I feel the blood drain from my face, the air is knocked from my lungs at the sound.
I hear another door slam, and then silence. This can’t be happening. I fucked up, I should have never left her by herself. I should have known they’d try to lure her back. FUCK! I don’t want to disconnect the call but I need to call the police.
My thumb hovers over the end button, hesitating before I finally hit it. All I can think as I punch in 911, is that I hope that wasn’t the last time I get to hear her voice. Full of fear and hopelessness.
The call clicks over, but before the dispatcher can finish their initial greeting or take charge of the call, I’m quickly relaying what happened. She asks to stay on the line with me until I arrive but I decline, telling her I’ll talk to the officers once I arrive.
Next, I call the only other person I can think of. Jesse answers on the first ring.
“What’s up, buddy?” He answers, but I can’t even respond right away, my anger has taken my voice away.
“They took her. They fucking took her,” I manage to finally grunt out. I don’t need to explain who I’m talking about, I filled him in on Callie. He told me he’d help if I needed him, and now I fucking need him. I should have taken him up on his offer earlier, but I thought I had it handled. My stupid fucking ego is going to get my girl killed.
“What do you need?” His voice is all business, not an ounce of hesitation. My fucking, brother. I ask him to do something that I hope I won’t regret because it’s incredibly illegal, and if he gets caught, his job is on the line. Unlike me, he plans to have a full military career and retire when he’s halfway in a grave. He has access to databases, and information technology that I have no right to ask him for, but I’m desperate.
“I need a location. I need to know where they took her. Cameras, phones, something. I need to find her before they kill her,” my voice breaks on the last sentence, my agony is tearing me apart.
“You got it. I’ll call you as soon as I have something.”
“Jesse. I…” I can’t finish my sentence, not sure what to say, but I feel a singular trail of wetness roll down my cheek. I can’t lose her.
“We’ll get her back. Be careful, brother.” He ends the call, leaving the cab of my truck eerily silent. He knows what I’m asking is illegal. He didn’t even hesitate to help. If I make it through this alive, I’ll gladly be indebted to him for the rest of my life. I just need Callie back.
The dark roadway stretches out in front of me as I race toward the hospital. The streetlights flashing over me as I speed past them put me in a trance, forcing me to remember the horrible shit that I’ve locked away. Memories, like still shots from that one singular night in South America assault me.
Darkness.
Blood.
Screaming. Crying.
Bugs swarming around an exposed porch light.
Sweat trickling down my forehead.
Death.
