Andy pounded his feet against the floor. It made a hollow sound. He thought the floor was made of wood. Hard to tell. He concentrated. He had nothing to focus on but his fear. The tightness in his chest could snap his ribs. His heart rattled about as if it had broken free.
Andy hollered and again made only unintelligible grunts. The gag made breathing difficult, and his lungs felt like they couldn’t get enough air. Andy inhaled a bit more oxygen through his nose, but the ache in his chest remained. He fought against his restraints, but managed only to chafe the skin. So Andy settled into his seat and he waited. If they wanted him dead, he would already be dead, Andy told himself. Something would happen.
It did.
Laura didn’t know these woods at all, but she wasn’t concerned about getting lost. The kid she spoke with at the regional high school told her about the path. According to him, it was a couple miles long, easy to follow. It had been easy to find, just as he promised. She was told the cross-country team used the path to train, and it was the fastest way from The Pep into town for anybody riding a bike.
The entrance to the path was nothing but a weed-strangled pullout on the side of a single-lane road several miles from where the chemical truck had crashed and spilled. Laura had seen where police had blocked off the access roads to the school and surrounding area, but a path through the woods was not worth guarding.
After she parked, Laura locked the car doors and set off on foot. The flat ground made it possible to walk quickly, but she was badly out of shape and could not keep a pace. Almost immediately Laura’s lungs began to ache. She regretted every stupid cigarette she’d ever smoked. She also regretted every major life decision she had made. She had left her home, her husband, and her son in search of a better life, only to find broken promises, lies, and missteps all along the way.
There were men, slick charmers or even worse, abusive men. There were hangovers, no shortage of those. And plenty of highs-coke, pot, Ecstasy, magic mushrooms. For Laura, avoiding heroin and meth had felt like a commendable display of willpower. When she got clean, she got clear and she could finally taste the ruin of her life. Her friends were people of convenience who went to the same parties, hung out at the same bars, and screwed the same guys. Take away the drugs and booze, and everybody in her life had the staying power of a lit cigarette.
She’d come east looking for Andy and Jake, ready to embrace them in whatever shape that took. She had no grand vision of a happy family reunion. In this way, Laura was not naïve. Maybe in time she could establish a meaningful relationship with Andy. It would start there, with her son. And there was no denying her feelings for Jake. Even so, it made her sad to be with him, causing her to focus on all the “what-ifs” of her life. It was a dangerous game to play. What if I didn’t leave? What if I weren’t so angry with Jake?
That was what had pushed her away. He had been selfish. He drank away their future. Her answer was to make a clean break from it all. Start over. And so she left on a multiyear walkabout, and was now on an unfamiliar path based solely on a hunch that her son was still at the school.
I’m looking forward to seeing you.
That was what he wrote in his last Facebook message to her sent yesterday. I’m looking forward to seeing you. Those few words meant so much to Laura. Men had told her they loved her. Friends had confided in her. But their words, which at the time had seemed so personal and intimate, paled in comparison to Andy’s simple six-word message. Andy’s words brought meaning to her life. Real meaning. She’d turned her back on her son. She vowed never to do it again.
The path narrowed. The clear and crisp morning had given way to afternoon cloud cover, and a misty rain fell and thickened the muddied earth. Her footing slipped as she quickened her strides.
Laura’s imagination dictated her pace. In one scenario, Andy was facedown in a hallway. He had inhaled too much of the chemical and was frothing at the mouth. Nobody was there to save him. His heartbeat was fading. But Laura would come to him. To protect against the chemicals in the air, Laura would wear the painter’s mask she bought at the hardware store. Perhaps it wouldn’t fully safeguard her from the fumes, but she could at least get Andy to safety. Her cell phone worked. She could call for an ambulance.
In another version, Andy was roaming the empty school with his pals like a pack of wolves. It wasn’t like he forgot about his meeting with her, more like he had to take advantage of the opportunity. No faculty. No other students. He and his friends would have the run of the place. Andy would be playing Frisbee on a quad, Laura imagined. Laughing with his friends. Laura would be able to hear him from the woods. She would emerge from the forest path, and Andy would see her. She’d be dirty, soaking wet, looking like a lost hiker.
She wouldn’t be upset with him. No, this was a demonstration of her commitment to their nascent relationship. She and Andy had made a plan to meet and she was damn well determined to keep it. And Andy would smile at her. At least in her mind, he would. He’d come to her, and they would actually hug. And he’d say, “Laura, what are you doing here?” Of course he’d say, “Laura,” not “Mom”-not yet… anyway. And she’d shrug and tell him nothing was more important to her than being with him.
“How’d you figure out where I was?” Andy would ask.
“I thought about what I would do when I was in high school,” Laura would say.
And then they would share a laugh.
At least in her mind they would.
The path widened, and Laura entered a wide clearing. The grass was dewy from the rain. In the distance, Laura could see the brick buildings of Pepperell Academy. She could see The Quad, too.
Nobody was outside playing Frisbee.
CHAPTER 21
Powerful hands gripped Andy’s shoulder, but he couldn’t tell if the person-a man, it had to be a man-stood in front or behind him. Perhaps not long ago those same hands had been wrapped around his throat. A moment later, someone escorted Andy down a short flight of stairs.
Completely blindfolded, Andy could see nothing. He was led to a cushioned seat, and Andy thought he knew where he was. He couldn’t ask because the gag was still in place. Andy heard a door open somewhere to his left. His ragged breathing drowned out most every sound, but he might have heard footsteps, many sets of them. Shuffling feet mixed in with grunts and dulled cries.
Andy slowed his breathing. Now he heard it distinctly. Scraping sounds. Chairs being pushed around perhaps?
“No te muevas. No te muevas,” a man’s voice said. He repeated that command several times.
Andy focused. With concentration, he could pick out the sound of footsteps. They seemed to come from the same short set of stairs Andy had just descended.
He felt a sudden and strong tug on the back of his head. Someone loosened his blindfold. The fabric fell away and light flooded Andy’s eyes. He blinked to clear his vision. Shapes came into sharp focus. He recognized the Feldman Auditorium, located on the first floor of the Academy Building. The Academy Building was the largest on campus, a gateway to The Quad and surrounding dormitories and classrooms. It was used mostly for history, art, anthropology, and religious studies.
The auditorium, named for one of the school’s most prominent benefactors, seated three hundred people and provided a stately environment for performances and assemblies. It was a modern theater with balcony seating. Andy sat in the center of the front row, facing the stage.
Onstage, lit as though they were part of a school production, were his five closest friends: David, Pixie, Hilary, Solomon, and Rafa. Each was seated on a classroom chair. Their wrists were restrained with rope. Their school uniforms were wrinkled, torn in places, dirty in others. They wore blindfolds and had gags made of the same thick cloth that was stuffed in Andy’s mouth.