Page 67 of The Chain
Blood pouring from her nostrils and her mouth.
Where is she?
Somewhere musty.
An attic?
A basement?
A—
Oh yeah.
She’s been unconscious for how long? A minute? Two? A day?
When she opens her eyes, the man is gone. He’s taken the wrench and the gun with him. The breakfast tray is still there.
Her face is stinging. Her head is light.
She sits up. If she tries to stand, she knows she’ll fall down again.
Her eyes aren’t focusing too well either. The far wall of the basement is blurring into one long smear of color.
Blood drips from her nose onto the sleeping bag.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Crimson blood pooling on the shiny nylon surface, making a shape like South America.
She dips her finger in the milk of the cereal bowl. Still cold. She’s been unconscious for only a few minutes, then.
She begins to cry. She’s so lonely and so afraid. Abandoned by the whole world with no ideas and no hope and no plan at all.
34
Saturday, 4:00 p.m.
Rachel drives to the mall in New Hampshire and brings back a first-aid kit, dolls, DVDs, a princess dome tent, and games. Pure guilt. Pure guilt after the fact. Amelia is doing better now. She played Snakes and Ladders with Pete and ate a ham sandwich.
They put up the dome tent and stickFrozenin the portable DVD player. They watch Amelia watch the movie for an hour until the Wickr app chimes on Rachel’s phone. She goes upstairs to read it.
A message from 2348383hudykdy2.
The Dunleavy ransom has been paid,the message says simply.
Rachel takes one of the powered-up burner phones and dials the Dunleavys.
“Hello?” Helen says.
“The ransom has been paid. You know what to do now.”
“How can we do that? It’s madness. It’s impossible,” Helen says.
There’s a brief scuffle and then someone says, “No.”
Mike Dunleavy comes on the line. “Now, look here—” he begins but Rachel cuts him off immediately.
“Put your wife back on the phone now or your daughter’s dead,” Rachel says.
