Taken (A Dystopian Novel) (The Taken Trilogy), page 2
“Cause everyone’s at the fair,” Aubrey responds, and there is irritation in her voice. I sigh.
“Try that one.” Aubrey points to a street called Chambers Avenue. There is no strategy to her choice, just a bright blue house on the corner. I turn. Like the last street, every curtain is drawn. Aubrey sticks her cell phone out of the window and waves it around.
“I’m not getting a signal at all,” she announces. My gaze abruptly falls to the GPS screen. No signal either. I swallow my rising worry. Part of me wants to turn around and drive back to 301.
The road ends in a “T,” and I slow to a stop, undecided about which way to go on Madison Drive.
“What do you think?” I ask.
“Left.” She says it matter-of-factly. Like she knows. I turn. Thankfully, Madison runs into a main road, and we both cheer when we see a gas station in the distance. I have never been happier to see a sign for flammable liquid in my life. Aubrey starts to sing a nonsensical song about the fair. For her sake, I hope an attendant will be able to put us on the right track.
We pull into the Gas-and-Go and my stomach drops because there is no attendant in the station. A “closed” sign hangs in the door of the convenience store. Soon, I’m waving my own cell phone in the air. No signal and no internet connection. Even our mom would be concerned that she hadn’t heard from us by now.
The passenger side door opens and Aubrey stretches when she gets out.
“Need to find a bathroom,” she explains. We walk toward the back side of the store and find the unisex restroom door ajar. I stand guard since the door doesn’t lock. Not that anyone is actually around. When she comes out, I go in and put in my contacts, slipping my glasses into my pocket. When I walk out, Aubrey’s face is pressed against the convenience store window.
“I’m hungry, Jack. I didn’t eat breakfast ‘cause I wanted to make sure I had room for funnel cake at the fair,” she says, frowning.
“We can get food. Something small. Hold out for the funnel cake. My treat.” I pull her away from the window and smile at her. “I’m getting you to that fair, Aubs. It’s only quarter to two.”
“I just want something, anything, to eat.”
“We’ll get food, and you will eat at the fair. Promise,” I say firmly and hold up my palm as an affirmation. She shrugs.
There are sneakers near the back tires of my car, and for a moment, I think I must have rolled over them when we entered the gas station. But then they move.
I yank Aubrey more forcefully than I intend and throw her behind me. She starts to protest, but I swing around and press my hand over her mouth and point with the other. Her eyes grow wide when she sees the shoes.
“Go back to the bathroom and keep trying to get a signal,” I order in a whisper.
“No,” she whispers back. Not an ounce of fear is in her eyes.
“Go, Aubrey.” I point. “If I don’t come back there in five minutes, run and scream as loudly as you can.” I spin her around and give her a little shove, and she goes. I hope the shove impressed the gravity of the situation. This person could be trying to rob us…or worse. We are in a strange town without any means of communication with anyone we know.
I look around, and the streets are still oddly empty. My heart pounds as I position one of my keys, ridge end out, between my index and middle fingers. I inch forward, allowing a generous amount of space between me and car.
“Need something?” I call out with forcefulness in my voice. The young man stands, and his eyes are frantic. He is no taller than I am with shaggy black hair.
“Where’s the kid?” he asks, and the question chills me.
“Take my wallet. There’s an iPod in the car,” I offer. He starts to walk toward me. It’s not an intimidating or threatening stride, but he looks desperate. I take a few steps back.
“I don’t want your money,” he says.
“You want the car? You can have the car.”
“Where’s the kid?” he repeats.
“Aubrey! Run!” I yell. Suddenly, the boy brandishes a gun, but he doesn’t aim it at me or Aubrey, who dashes out from behind the building. Instead, he presses his finger to his lips.
“Be quiet. We need to get out of here. Before they come.”
2
Citizens of Earth
“Come on. Let’s go,” he says. “You’ll thank me later. You want to go, right? You’re just taking me with you is all.” This time he sort of points the gun at us but only to summon us to the car with a gesture.
“If we don’t leave now, you’ll never get to…”
My brain finally processes what he’s saying, and I beckon Aubrey. I grip her shoulders protectively, and the three of us walk to the car. The boy lowers the gun, and I’m tempted to knock it from his grasp. I tell Aubrey to get into the back seat. She obeys and puts on her seatbelt. The boy gets into the passenger seat. My heart is still banging against my ribs when I climb into the driver’s seat.
As I turn onto the road, his gaze whips around erratically, and he taps the gun against his knees. I can almost see his anxiety level skyrocketing.
“How long have you been here?” he asks.
“Uh…uh…about an hour.”
“Which way did you come?”
“Madison, but I don’t remember where we were before then.”
“There was a blue house on the corner.” Aubrey says. Her eyes haven’t moved away from the rearview once. She’s staring at me intensely. She raises her cell phone slightly and mouths, “911.” Smart kid. Emergency services can be reached even without a signal.
“Chambers,” he clarifies. “I can show you. Do you think you can speed up a little bit? I don’t know how much time we have. The gun isn’t for you, believe it or not,” he says.
I swallow hard and press on the accelerator a little harder when we turn on Chambers. Then, I tell him about the canopied road. He shows me where to go. As we cross under the shade, he rips my GPA from the dashboard and clutches it in his hands.
The further we drive, the more confused I get. There should have been signs alerting me to the direction of the highway, but the area continues to be residential.
“Do you have a cell signal?” he turns to Aubrey. At first, she doesn’t speak, but then I nod at her.
“No. Nothing.”
“Me either,” he says. He re-mounts the GPS and solemnly says, “We missed it.”
The road abruptly comes to a dead end in a cul-de-sac, and I slow to a stop.
“Where’s 301?” I blurt. My pulse quickens, and suddenly I am more concerned with not being able to get home than I am about our gun-wielding passenger. Though the GPS has gone more than an hour without a signal, I try to input my home address just in case it catches.
“It’s gone,” he says, sounding defeated, and I see his grip loosen on the gun. I stomp on the brake and he smashes against the dashboard. While he recovers from the impact, I grab the gun, and it’s heavier than I expect. I have never held one before, at least not a real one, just the plastic ones at the arcade. Bile rises into my mouth.
“Get out,” I demand of him quietly. Even though I’m not pointing the gun at him, he holds his hands up in surrender and steps out of the car.
“Can I at least have my gun back?”
I smirk as I lock the doors and drive off. He gives a brief chase, but I see him throw his hands up in frustration. Aubrey sits on her legs and watches him through the rear window. I hear her expel a deep breath. I tell her to carefully get the map from the floor of the passenger seat. After she picks it up, I toss the weapon into the seat.
“I couldn’t get 911,” Aubrey says flatly.
“I’m going to try to find a police station,” I say as I flick my eyes over to the gun.
“That was so weird. Why was he so scared?” she asks. “Why did he think someone was after us?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think he was all there, if you know what I mean. I’m just glad that he didn’t hurt us.” I could feel sweat forming on the back of my neck. “Find a way to get us back to 301. You can do that, right? When we were down by the gas station, I think I saw a sign for a numbered road, something with a 4 in it. 4-8-something, I think.”
We cross under the canopy of trees again and for the first time, there are other cars on the road. It was like a wave of cars all coming from the same direction. I turn down a street and idle at the curb.
“There’s no road with a 4 or an 8 in Calvert, Jack.”
“Are you sure?” I ask
She leans over from the backseat and displays the map for me to see. With my finger, I follow Highway 301 into the tangle of other roads, but she is right.
A woman pulls into the driveway adjacent to a house head of us. There is a small child in the backseat pointing at us through the window. In fact, everyone who lives on the street is suddenly pulling into their driveways.
“Stay in the car, Aubs,” I say as I step out and walk to the house. The woman, who looks to be about my mother’s age, tenses when I approach the driver’s side. She only has one foot out of the car, and she slides it back in and slams the door. Fright washes all the color from her face. At this point, I just want to leave this town. I won’t even report that guy to the police. I’ll throw the gun in the sewer and just go home.
“Hi, Miss. I was wondering if you could direct me to 301,” I say. The boy in the backseat waves excitedly at me. I return a tight smile.
“301? That’s what you took to get here?” she asks.
“Yes, me and my little sister.” I point. The woman drags her gaze away to look at my car and then back to me. I look too, to check on Aubrey, and she has crawled into the passenger seat. She is fiddling with something, and I hope that it is her phone.
“How long have you been here?” she asks. My whole body seizes, and I stare at her suspiciously. It is the same question the guy had asked. I am not one to believe in coincidences. I try not to wear my concern on my face, but my eyes narrow slightly.
“Don’t mean to be rude, Miss, but we’re in a hurry.”
Her demeanor changes. She releases her grip on the steering wheel and she smiles.
“I’m terrible at giving directions, but I can call my husband. Would you and your sister like to wait inside?” Her tone is too beguiling to be genuine. I hesitate for a moment. Three minutes ago, she thought I was going to rob her, and now she is inviting me into her home.
“I am going to make a late lunch for my son. I bet your sister’s hungry.”
I step back as she opens the door. I signal Aubrey when the woman walks to the other side of her car and takes her son out of the car seat. Around us, the nondescript homes seemed vacant, not of people, but of…something else that I can’t quite articulate. There are also a few in the distance that have been burned to the ground. Aubrey approaches with trepidation. She is clutching her shoulder bag, and I gasp when I see the irregular bulge jutting through it. The gun-shaped bulge. Some chaperone I am.
“Speak, Aubrey,” I say. She mutters a greeting and waves shyly at the woman and the toddler. Before I can say anything, I notice the flier taped to the front door, flapping in the wind. It is a sketch that resembles the boy from the gas station who had sort of carjacked us. His name is Russell Tremell. I nudge Aubrey before the woman tugs it off. After unlocking the door, she urges us to come inside and invites us to sit in the family room.
“This is Lyle,” she says gesturing at the baby. “He is very quiet. Do you mind if I just put him down here? I’ll put some tea on and get some snacks and call my husband. Make yourselves comfortable.”
Aubrey sits on the floor and starts to play with Lyle when the woman disappears into the kitchen.
“Aubs, I know that gun is in your bag. You should’ve left it in the car.” From the couch, I lean to her ear.
“It was just on the seat. I didn’t want someone to see it and call the police.”
“You could’ve stuck it under the seat. Now you’ve brought it into this woman’s house…with her kid.”
We both fall silent as light conversation floats from the kitchen. The woman is on the phone. I look around anxiously, hoping that she hurries up. The house is cozy, but plainly decorated with the bare essentials. Then, my heart clenches when I realize that there are no family pictures anywhere. None of the woman or her husband. And none of the baby. No professional portraits or the digital ones that families take and frame themselves. A chill barrels down my spine. There are tons of pictures of me and Aubrey at our house, especially as babies. That’s when parents take the most pictures. Something isn’t right.
“Should we tell her that we saw that Russell guy?” Aubrey whispers. I shake my head. As crazy as Russell Tremell had acted, the woman makes me more unsettled.
Aubrey claps softly and squeezes Lyle’s cheeks. Lyle giggles and mimics Aubrey’s claps. The woman exits the kitchen with a tray with two glasses of juice and a plate of crackers. I notice that there is no ring on her finger.
“You two are in luck. My husband will be here shortly, and he says he will lead you to 301 and you can just follow in your car,” she says in a kind voice, but her eyes dart around.
“Can I use your bathroom?” I ask.
“Sure, it’s right over there.” She points in the direction of the staircase. “Second door on the right.”
When I reach the bathroom, I check my phone again. There is still no signal, and I curse quietly. The kitchen has two entrances, and I walk in through the end where neither my sister nor the woman can see me.
“You’re good with Lyle,” the woman says to Aubrey. “Do you have younger siblings?”
“No, but I think I would be a good big sister,” she says. Well, that’s comforting. I notice a wall mounted phone. I lift it from the cradle, and a voice chirps on the other end.
“Hi, Mrs. Myers. How may I direct your call?” a woman says cheerily. What kind of town still has an operator answering calls?
“Uh…I’m trying to reach Lily Ambrose--”
“Hold please.”
“In Wynn,” I continue, but she is already gone.
“I’m sorry, there is no Lilly Ambrose in Wicker Farm,” she says when she comes back.
“Can you try Wynn?”
“May I ask who I’m speaking with?”
I hang up and walk back to the living room and tell Aubrey that it is time for us to go. Mrs. Myers becomes anxious again as she balances Lyle on her hip. Audrey has nearly cleared the plate of crackers.
“You should wait for my husband. He’ll be here shortly,” Mrs. Myers says. She walks to the window and peeks out. She stands in front of the door. I wish we had stayed with Russell. At least we were on the same page about leaving.
“We’re leaving, Miss. Thanks,” I say.
“You can’t. You two look like nice kids, but I’ll get in trouble if you leave. I’m sorry.” She’s clearly distressed and an odd contrast to Lyle who is overjoyed at being bounced. Aubrey and I exchange looks. I have come across Rubix cubes that were easier than getting out of this place. Is everyone in this town crazy?
“Move,” I demand.
“We have a gun,” Aubrey blurts out, and I’m actually a little relieved. Mrs. Myers swallows hard and looks indecisive, but she slides away from the front door, and Aubrey and I run as fast as we can back to the car. I don’t know whether to thank Aubrey or throttle her as I ignite the engine, and once again, we’re on our way. Instead of heading back underneath those trees, I keep driving in the opposite direction. I think maybe we can hit another highway near the gas station.
“I couldn’t call home,” I tell Aubrey, and for a moment, she looks concerned and not like a nine-year-old with a gun in her bag. “The phones here are weird.”
I also tell her to give me the gun, which she promptly does. I stick it in the slot compartment in the driver’s side door. I don’t plan on using it.
“Are we in some kind of trouble, Jack? We didn’t do anything,” Aubrey says. “I wish we had never come to stupid Calvert.” She pouts and crosses her arms. I don’t have the heart to tell her that we are not in Calvert or that I have no idea where Wicker Farm is exactly. I don’t remember seeing a place with that name on the map.
“We’re not in trouble.” But I can hear the skepticism in my own voice. We are in trouble. I just wish I knew what for. I glance at the rearview mirror, and there are other cars, but I can’t tell if any of them are following us.
We need to get out of here. Before they come. Russell’s words echo through my mind, and I know that it is the same “they” Mrs. Myers was afraid of. I regret ditching Russell. He had a weapon and knowledge of what was happening. I’m down to one of the two and not prepared to use it.
“I hope you didn’t fill up on those crackers. I plan to stop at that burger place we saw on the way back,” I say reassuringly. I keep glancing over, and my heart drops because she will not meet my eyes. Aubrey nearly turns her back to me completely.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
“No.”
“Are you tired?”
“No,” she says curtly.
“How come you’re not talking to me?”
“Don’t feel like it.” She plugs her ears with her earphones and ends the conversation.
We reach an intersection, and I am uncertain of which way to go since my GPS is still trying to locate a signal. I assign each direction a number. I tap Aubrey and she ignores me. I tap her again. Someone behind us honks.
“Pick a number, one through three,” I request when she glares at me.
“Why?” she asks with annoyance. Several honks sound.
“Just pick one,” I say. She continues to glare at me, and it looks like she is considering dragging out the interaction with silence, but then her faces softens just a bit.
