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Okay, time to put on my brave face. No idea what my brave face looks like, but if I have to guess it’s like I have a toothache while peeling back my upper lip. Yeah, listen, no clue. I’m just winging it.
Parker grabs me by my elbow again and takes me back out. At least the trunk of the car I’m getting pushed into is an upgrade to the last one. This one doesn't leave me with my knees against my nose, and the smell is less funky as well. But I’d still rather sit anywhere else in the car. Although if I have to believe Dean, this is a safer spot for me to be in than in the driver’s seat.
The engine starts and soon I’m getting bounced from left to right through the trunk. The downside of having more space? There’s a lot more bouncing going on. In the previous car, I was just so stuck there was nowhere to go.
After what feels like an eternity, the car stops. Please, let Meggy be here. Don’t let all of this have been for nothing. Don’t let her be another Julia Collins.
The trunk opens up once again, and this time I don’t get blinded by daylight. The car seems to be in some kind of dark building, and I’m glad my eyes have adjusted to the dark already.
Parker is handling me like I’m groceries he has to bring into the house because his wife asked so. I should feel offended, but I’m just relieved he’s not that interested in hurting me. I don’t think I’d do well under torture, I’m a delicate flower and I’m not even afraid to admit it. Let other people be the toughies of this world.
I almost stumble over my own feet as I get dragged along into a corridor. This Parker guy is starting to get on my nerves. Chivalry is definitely dead with this one.
We go up a set of stairs and end up in a big open space filled with cages. The thing it reminds me of most is those rooms you see when movies portray animal testing. There’s cages everywhere, but instead of animals, they’re filled with people.
My stomach churns and I gag, almost making me spill the contents of it. The only hopeful thing about finding so many people here is that the chance of Meggy being here is high.
“Keep it in,” Parker snaps at me as he starts untying my hands.
He opens an empty cage and pushes me in, the cage falling into the electronic number-key mechanism without him needing to actually lock it. Fuck. If the cops raid the facility and they don’t have the right number combination, will I be stuck in here forever? I can’t Houdini my way out of it. I need to be saved and home for dinner. With whatever will I can find, I try to calm myself down, but no such thing is happening right now.
If I get out of here, I’m so telling Gil he was right. I’m not made for shit like this. I’m a writer for crying out loud. I make up ridiculous stuff like this, I don’t live it!
Parker’s phone rings, and he steps out of the room to take the call. I take in my surroundings. In the cage right next to mine is a girl, who’d be pretty if it wasn’t for her current stage of disheveledness. Her hair is dirty and sticking together, dark circles beneath her hollow eyes. For some reason my head thinks it’s a good idea to focus on the similarities between her and Celia.
I push that thought away as far as I can. I can’t see much further than the cage next to mine, and I need to know if I got fake-kidnapped for nothing. I need to know if Meggy’s here.
Knowing that I’m in the right place, and police will be here to save me soon, I decide to take a chance. Parker isn’t here, and I just have to know if she’s here or not. Now that my hands are free, I can use them to get the gag away from my mouth, which I eagerly do. “Meggy!” I yell.
The girl next to me gets big eyes and hisses at me. “Please be quiet, they hurt the ones who make noise,” she says in a creaky voice.
My heart breaks for her. What the fuck is this? Why the hell is this happening in Kinseltown? Charlington is tiny, but it isn’t exactly like Kinseltown is New York or anything.
Why are we being used for organized crime? Or, unorganized crime if I have to believe the guys? This whole warehouse full of cages doesn’t feel very unorganized, though. Is this how they want to use Tempest? To store the goods? What if Meggy isn’t here anymore? What if they moved her already?
“Meggy! It’s Mor!” I yell again.
“Mor?” my feisty friend’s voice sounds from somewhere I can’t see. “Fuck, did they get you?”
“Oh thank fuck, you’re alive,” I half yell as I let myself sag against the bars of the cage. I hadn’t realized how tightly wound up I’ve been these last couple of weeks, anxious to find out what happened to her.
She’s not dead. She’s not Julia Collins. We’re going to be okay.
I let out something between a half laugh and a half cry. My fucking plan actually worked. Well, half of it anyway, we still need to get out of here, and preferably in one piece. But that can’t take much longer I expect. The police officers who set this whole thing up kept saying to me that they would quickly come for me and get me out of wherever it was.
“Mor?” Meggy’s croaky voice yells from the other side of the room.
“Yeah?’
“Did they get you too?”
I take a second before I answer that. What if I yell something about the police and they take like an hour to come in, the bad guys hear my yelling and they all kill us? No, I gotta stay thinking with my detective brain.
“Something like that.”
“Mor?” There’s a slight tremble in her voice.
“I’m scared.”
