Blood Donor Page 5

  Priss sat on the nearest bench and leaned against the table. “Wow. If it is, what can we use to break through?”

  “You’re sitting on it.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  I picked up the bench, grabbing it close to one end. Priss picked it up near the other end. We ran it toward the wall, aiming for the small dent. We crashed against the wall, lost our grips and fell to the floor. I almost started laughing.

  “That thing is heavy,” Priss moaned.

  “Won’t the noise bring one of the leeches?” Thorn asked. She was by the door to the hallway, watching out for them.

  I got up. “I don’t think so. We’ve never heard any noise from upstairs. I think they made it soundproof.” I rubbed the dent, which was now much bigger. “Let’s go again, Priss.”

  She groaned.

  We rammed the wall a few more times. We didn’t seem to be making progress. Each loud crash vibrated through the bench. We sat on the bench to rest. What was wrong?

  “Maybe there’s stone behind there after all,” Priss said.

  I jumped up. “This kind of wall has, um, ribs, doesn’t it?”

  “Ribs?” Thorn rubbed her hand over the dented area. “Oh, right. When they build a house, they make frames.”

  “Right. Maybe we’re hitting part of the frame. Let’s move over just a bit. That might help.”

  Right away, the hits started making bigger dents. On our fifth try, the wall buckled, and a tiny piece fell into the dark interior. The sixth hit punched a hole the size of a basketball.

  “Yes!” I set down my end of the bench and pulled at the rough edges. White dust caked my hands. I kicked at the edges, then pulled out pieces of plasterboard. The hole in the wall got bigger as I took out more chunks.

  “See anything?” Thorn asked.

  “Not yet. We’re going to have to turn on the overhead light.”

  “What about the outside guards?”

  “Do they care if we’re up at this time of night? Turn on the TV. Maybe they’ll see the flickering through the film on the windows. If they bother to look.”

  We worked for another half hour or so, knocking out bits of plasterboard. Finally the hole was big enough to step inside. Instead of entering, we crouched around the hole and peered in. Skip joined us.

  “What’d you find?” she asked.

  “Not stairs,” Thorn said.

  Shit. All that work for nothing. I squinted inside. “It’s really dark, even with this light.” I stepped inside. “It’s like a closet. But…” I looked up. “Maybe an old chimney vent? It looks like there’s a shaft that goes up. And a wheel with a handle on the side.” I noticed a latch and undid it. Something high in the square hole moaned.

  I slowly turned the wheel. Whatever was inside the hole creaked and squeaked as it came closer. After several minutes a box with shelves appeared and dangled beside us.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  Priss gasped. “I know. It’s called a dumbwaiter.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s an elevator for food. Servants used it, so they didn’t have to carry the food up any stairs.”

  “Where’d you learn that?” Thorn asked.

  “Before she died and left me in foster care, my grandma loved watching British history shows about rich people. These things were sometimes in the shows.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s find out if the elevator—”

  “Dumbwaiter.”

  “Right. Let’s see if the dumbwaiter can hold my weight. Priss, you and Thorn will have to turn the wheel.”

  “Thorn’s still too weak,” Skip said. “I’ll help if you get help for us once you’re out.”

  I know I looked surprised. “I was always planning to get help for all of us. I won’t let them kill anyone else.”

  Skip bit her lip. “Um…thanks.”

  I put on my coat. Checked the pockets. The chicken legs I’d taken at dinner were still there.

  Thorn looked ready to cry. “Please take me with you.”

  I hugged her. “I’ll get help. I promise, Thorn. You’re too weak to make a run for it tonight.”

  Thorn squeezed me and whispered, “Don’t let them catch you.”

  I stepped back. Fear crawled over my skin. Why did it have to be a small space? I glanced toward the bedroom. “How is Red?”

  Skip grinned. “She spat out the sock and fell asleep. I guess she realized if your banging didn’t bring anyone, her yelling wouldn’t either.” Her smile faded. “Don’t make us untie her. She’ll be in a freaking rage.”

  “Leave her as long as you want, though she might be less angry if you untie her as soon as I’m gone.” I entered the closet and climbed on top of the dumbwaiter. Sat with my legs on either side of the chain, where a metal ring attached it to the box. Kept my eyes on Priss to ignore the darkness above me. “I’ll grab the chain to signal you to stop cranking. When I do, flip the latch back to jam the wheel.”

  “Got it,” Priss said. “Good luck.” She started turning the wheel.

  The dumbwaiter groaned as it began to rise. My chest squeezed when the darkness of the shaft wrapped around me. Memories of hiding under the front step and being locked in a closet crowded in. It made this space feel even smaller. I closed my eyes and worked at keeping my breath even.

  It’s not a small space. It goes up and up and up. It’s huge, I told myself. The darkness is the night sky. Wide-open sky.

  I opened my eyes and tilted my head back. I could see stars. No. A crack of light. The first floor. I felt for the chain that was pulling me up. Waited until I was even with the thin line of light, then grabbed the chain to signal the girls below. I wanted to bang at the crack of light. But if there was light, probably there were people.

  I pressed my ear against the crack and listened.

  The sound of voices and footsteps came closer. I couldn’t make out the words. Then the light dimmed, and the voices became clear. I held my breath. They had to be standing right in front of the crack. Right beside me.

  “Damned old house,” someone said. “I swear it’s haunted.”

  A second person laughed. “Lots of creaking for sure.”

  “Maybe it’s those kids downstairs. Should someone go check?”

  “Hell no. Worst case, they kill each other.”

  “Boss would be pissed at that. Losing one was bad enough. He’s got big clients coming in tomorrow. From somewhere in Asia.”

  “Crazy shit. Let’s wait for the delivery in the front office. We’ll see the car arrive from there.”

  The wood under me cracked.

  I grabbed the chain hooked to the top of the dumbwaiter. Held on tight.

  “What was that?” the first guy asked.

  “Old house. Hell, you’re jumpy tonight. Let’s go.”

  The footsteps faded.

  The dumbwaiter creaked again. Louder. Then the wood gave way. The bottom of the box fell into the darkness. I was left dangling from the chain.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The chain was slowly slipping through my hands. I was gasping, fighting not to fall. I pushed against the back wall with my feet to lean toward the wall where the crack of light had been. It was gone, so the people must have left the room.

  With my legs stretched across the gaping hole, I let go of the chain with one hand and felt around for a way to open what had to be a door. My shoulders ached. Spikes of pain ran through the hand still holding the chain. The shaft wasn’t much wider than the length of my legs. I was bent awkwardly. But having a hole underneath me made me not care so much about the small space.

  Finally I felt a metal device near the ledge and played with it. My legs started trembling.

  The latch gave way. I pushed. Two doors swung open. Light from another room showed that this one was empty. A fancy waiting room of some kind. Big leather chairs and sofas.

  I held on to the edge of the opening and pushed my feet away from the wall. My legs dangled. I took a breath, then fell to
the floor with a thump. I quickly jumped to my feet, ready to bolt if someone showed up.

  When no one did, I closed the doors. Stepped back. The wall was made of dark wood panels, carved with leaves and wooden ridges. The doors had blended into the other panels. A secret passage.

  I needed to disappear too. I slipped across the room toward a wall of windows with floor-to-ceiling curtains. Hid behind the middle set of curtains and cupped my hands around my eyes to see into the night.

  The yard stretched farther to the left. To the right was a wall with a streetlight beyond it. That would be the front, I guessed. The direction I had to go.

  No guards in sight. Or dogs. But they were probably there.

  Only one way to find out. At least I was done with small spaces.

  I listened to make sure no voices were nearby. Then I moved to the tall balcony doors, opened one and stepped onto a patio.

  An alarm started wailing. Whoop, whoop, whoop!

  For three seconds I couldn’t move. Then I sprinted off the patio and across the grass. My heart thudded wildly.

  I was halfway to the front wall when someone yelled, “Stop!”

  Dogs started barking.

  “No, no, no.” I huffed out the word as I ran.

  I glanced back. Dark shadows raced toward me. The sight gave me a burst of energy. I veered toward a big tree near the wall. Ran faster than I ever had. I could hear my gasping breath. My feet hitting the ground.

  Then I heard growling. I zigged right. A dog brushed my arm as it flew past. It landed and cut me off. It growled and hunched down. Before it could jump, I pulled a chicken leg from my pocket. It sniffed. Didn’t jump.

  I waved the chicken back and forth. Walked the last few steps to the tree. Tossed the leg near the dog and jumped. I grabbed a tree branch and pulled myself up. Glanced back. The dog had already gobbled down the bone and was growling at me.

  The other dog raced past it and sprang. I flung myself sideways. Grabbed the tree trunk. The second dog jumped and snapped. I dropped another bone. The second dog ignored it. The first one lunged on it.

  The two guards shouted as they got closer. With the Taser.

  The wall was too far away for me to jump to it. But a branch above me almost reached that far. I slapped my hands onto either side of it. Worked my way along the branch like I was on monkey bars. One hand, then the other. Over and over. Body swinging from side to side.

  The branch started to sag. I judged the distance. Swung my feet back and forth. Launched.

  I belly flopped onto the wall. Breath punched out. I felt myself falling back. Hooked my elbow on the wall. Pulled.

  Fell.

  I lay on the grass. Sucked in air.

  But I was on the outside of the wall. I struggled to my feet. Leaned against the wall. They’d come through the gate. I heard them running.

  Down the street headlights appeared.

  A car.

  I limped into the middle of the street and waved my hands.

  The car stopped an arm’s length from me.

  I saw the faces lit by the glow from the dash. And recognized them.

  My kidnappers.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I stared, horrified.

  The woman jumped out of the car. Mandy.

  Not again. Not this time, Mandy. I ran. Across the street. The way the car had come from. I raced along the sidewalk. Heard the car whining as it backed up.

  A gate on the right.

  I ran up to it. Punched the keypad beside it. Shook the bars.

  Headlights lit up the gate.

  I turned sideways. Squeezed through the bars. Pushed. Harder. Then popped through. Fell on the ground.

  As I stood, someone grabbed my coat through the bars.

  “Look at the fish I caught,” a nasty voice said.

  I strained, then relaxed. Took half a step back. Unzipped the coat. I ran, leaving the coat in the swearing man’s grasp.

  I raced up the driveway, shouting, “Help! I was kidnapped! They’re going to kill me!”

  No answer.

  Halfway up the drive, lights along the path and on the front of the house snapped on. I looked behind me.

  The car was pulling away. Leaving.

  I heard sirens in the distance. Turned back toward the gate and raised both hands.

  When the police arrived, the gates swung open for them. They stopped two car lengths away from me. Got out with pistols in hand but not aimed at me.

  “Get on the ground,” one yelled.

  “I’m Jo McNair. Joanne. I was kidnapped.”

  “On the ground, Jo.”

  “Look it up. Call someone.” I dropped to my knees with hands still high. “There are others. Girls and guys. In the big house across the street. You have to save them.”

  The two police officers looked at each other. The driver took out a phone. Punched something in. Held it out for the other guy to see.

  His eyes opened wide. The driver must have pulled up a picture. The driver put his gun away and paced to me. He helped me up. “Let’s get you to a hospital to get checked out. Then we’ll get your statement.”

  “No.” I pulled free. “The big house across the street. It’s a spa. Re-JUVE-something. They’re holding kids captive in the basement. Using our blood.”

  “I’ll have someone check it out.” He took my elbow again.

  “No! You need a team. Backup. You need to get there now. They killed one boy. They were going to kill me. Please believe me.”

  I stepped back. “You have to save my friends.” I crossed my arms. Glared.

  “She’s serious, Russo,” the driver said.

  “Call it in.” He pointed at me. “You’ll be in big trouble if you’re lying.”

  “I’m not.”

  About an hour later six police officers crashed through the front door of the spa. I sat in the back of the first police car. Officer Russo stayed with me. He told me the security company had seen me at the gate on one of their cameras. When the man had tried to grab me, they called the police.

  Meanwhile the radio blurted, “Clear!” over and over.

  He shook his head. “If they were there, Jo, they’re gone now.”

  The police came out. No sign of anyone. No sign of an elevator.

  I thought about how the dumbwaiter was hidden in the old dining room. Probably the entrance to the elevator was hidden too. I’d already told Officer Russo about the secret passage and how I’d gotten out. Now I offered to show it to them. With some hunting, we found the button that released the hidden doors.

  I pushed past a cop and leaned into the shaft. “Thorn! Thorn, can you hear me?” I yelled as loudly as I could.

  After a minute a reply floated up the shaft. “Yeah. Did they catch you?”

  “No. The police are here. They’ll get you out.”

  Shouts of happiness rose up. I stepped back. Then I went upstairs with the police and showed them the blood room. The hallway outside the room was a dead end. But the wall paneling turned out to be another hidden door. It opened to the elevator.

  Officer Russo wouldn’t let me go into the basement. He led me back down the stairs to the waiting room. I sat on the edge of a leather chair and gripped my knees so hard my hands hurt.

  Finally, two officers appeared, leading the four girls into the brightly lit room. I sprinted to Thorn and swept her into a hug. We stayed that way as hands patted my back.

  Someone whispered, “Stupid bitch.”

  I turned toward Red. She was frowning. “You ruined everything,” she said.

  After a few seconds of just staring, I smiled. “You’re welcome,” I replied.

  She hauled her fist back. A burly policewoman grabbed her wrist and led her away before she could hit me. Skip stepped in front of me, face flushed. This time the whitest thing was her smile. “Thanks. Someday Red will realize you saved us.”

  Priss squeezed between us and hugged me. When she stepped back, she was smiling too. “Don’t take this the
wrong way, but I’m glad you were kidnapped, Jo.” The two girls laughed. I shrugged.

  Officer Russo came up to me. Before he could speak, I asked, “Do you have any paper?” He pulled out a pen and notepad. Thorn and I traded info. I wondered if she would be able to stay with her aunt. And would I be allowed back in the house?

  Did I want to be?

  The thunder of people running down the stairs made everyone turn. Two boys burst into the room and stopped. One stepped ahead of the other. He was kind of cute. He searched every face intently. I walked toward him. “Dylan?”

  “Jo?” He looked me up and down and then grabbed my hands. “It was you that escaped, wasn’t it?” When I nodded his whole face lit up.

  Thorn joined us and handed him a piece of paper. She bumped my shoulder. “I copied down your info. You two look like you want to keep in touch.”

  We released hands. Thorn laughed.

  Officer Russo laid a hand on my shoulder. “We need to get all of you to a hospital to get you checked out. Then we need to get statements from everyone. But first I want to take you to the station, Jo. There’s someone waiting there for you who has been very worried about you.”

  “Is it Mom?” I held my breath and hoped.

  “That’s what I was told. Just your mom.”

  Good. I nodded. “Okay. When we get there, can you sit down with my mom and me? Figure some stuff out? I can’t go home. It was just as much a prison as that basement. We need to get my mom out of there too.”

  Our eyes locked. He nodded slowly. “I can do that. But if you’re saying what I think you are, I will have to call in a social worker.”

  “I figured. Whatever happens, I’m done tiptoeing and hiding.”

  Acknowledgments

  Firstly, I need to thank my agent, Stacey Kondla. If you hadn’t posted that news article, I would have never gotten the story idea. Thank you for that, and for all your support and your editing skills.

  Secondly, a huge shout out to Orca Book Publishers. Thanks for taking on my story, Tanya. I know you swim with a pod that is a dedicated publishing team, and I appreciate each one of you (but would probably miss someone if I tried to name names). Without your great Orca team, this story might still be just a computer file. So many steps take a story from bytes to finished book, and I’m grateful for all your efforts.