Hostage

Thomas worked his way around the perimeter of the room, and soon he was stretched out beside her bed, using deep shadows as cover. He was about four feet from her now, and could see that her mouth was taped. He looked up at the corner of the ceiling where the camera was located. These cameras didn't hang down visible to anyone in the room; they were what his father called 'pinhole cameras,' set in the crawl space behind the wall where they peeked out through tiny holes. He slithered out to the chair and worked his way behind her. He figured that the camera could probably see her from the waist up, but not very well in the darkness. He decided to take a chance. He snaked his hand up behind her, then quickly yanked the tape from her mouth before ducking down to the floor again.

'Shit! Ow!'

'Be quiet! Listen!'

'They're going to catch you!'

'Shhhh! Listen!'

Thomas strained his ears again, concentrating past the helicopters and the sounds of the police outside.

Nothing.

'It's okay, Jen. They didn't see, and they can't see me now. Don't look around. Just listen.'

'How did you get in here?'

'I used the crawl space. Now listen and hold still. I'm going to untie you. They nailed the windows shut, but I think we can use the crawl space to get downstairs. If we sneak to the garage, we can open the garage door and run for it.'

'No!'

Thomas worked frantically at the knots binding her. The cords weren't that tight around her wrists and ankles, but the knots had been pulled hard.

'Thomas, stop! I mean it! Don't untie me.'

'Are you on dope? We might be able to get away!'

'But Daddy will still be in here! I'm not going to leave him.'

Thomas settled back on his heels, confused.

'But, Jen-'

'No! Thomas, if you can get out, then go, but I'm not leaving without my father.'

Thomas was so angry he wanted to punch. Here they were, locked in the dark with three psychokillers who probably drank human blood, one maniac who wanted to eat their hearts for sure, and she wouldn't leave. But then, as Thomas thought about it, he knew she was right. He couldn't leave their father, either.

'What are we gonna do, Jen?'

She didn't answer for a time.

'Call the police.'

'The house is surrounded by police.'

'Call them anyway! Maybe they have an idea. Maybe if we tell them exactly what's going on in here it will help them.'

Thomas glanced toward her desk, recalling the wires ripped from the plug.

'They broke the phones.'

Jennifer fell silent again.

'Then I don't know. Thomas, you should get out.'

'No!'

'I mean it. If you can get to the police, maybe you can help them. You know all about the alarms and the cameras. You know that Daddy is hurt. That asshole, Dennis, lied to them about Daddy. He's telling them we're all fine.'

'Let me untie you. We can hide in the walls.'

'No! They might hurt Daddy! Listen, if they find out that you're not in your room, I'm going to tell them that you got out. They won't know you're still in the walls. They'll never even think of that! But if both of us are gone, they'll take it out on Daddy. They might hurt him!'

Thomas thought about it.

'Okay, Jen.'

'Okay, what?'

'We're not going to leave him. I'm going to get us out of here.'

Jennifer jerked so hard against the cords that she almost tipped over the chair.

'You leave that gun alone! They'll kill you!'

'Not if I have the gun! We can hold them off long enough to let in the police, that's all we have to do.'

She twisted hard in the chair, trying to see him.

'Thomas, don't you dare! They're adults! They're criminals and they've got guns, too!'

'Don't talk so loud or they'll hear you!'

'I don't care! It's better than you getting killed!'

Thomas reached up, pulled the tape back over her mouth, and rubbed it hard so that it would stick. Jennifer squirmed, trying to shout through the tape. Thomas hated the thought of leaving her tied, but she just didn't see that he had no other choice.

'I'm sorry, Jen. I'll untie you when I get back. Then we can get Daddy out of here. You'll see. I won't let them hurt us.'

Jennifer was still struggling as Thomas worked his way back through the shadows. When he reached the closet he could still hear her trying to shout through the tape. She was shouting the same thing over and over. He could understand her, even though her words were muffled.

They're going to kill you.

They're going to kill you.

Thomas slipped back into the crawl space, working his way carefully through the dark.

DENNIS

The little bathroom off the garage was as dark as a cave when Dennis showed them the window, telling Mars and Kevin that they could work their way into the neighbor's yard and then around the side of that house to slip past the cops. Mars seemed thoughtful, but Dennis couldn't be sure with all the dark shadows.

'This could work.'

'Fuckin' A, it could work.'

'But you never know what the police are doing or where they might be. We have to give them something to think about besides us.'

'They'll be watching this house. They got nothing else to do.'

Kevin said, 'I don't like any of it. We should give up.'

'Shut up.'

Mars went into the garage and stood by the Range Rover. Dennis was scared that Mars would suggest killing the kid again.

'C'mon, Mars, we've got to get goin' here. We don't have all the time in the world.'

Mars turned back to him, his face lit by the dim light from the kitchen.

'If you want to get away, we should burn the house.'

Dennis started to say no, but then he stopped. He had been thinking of putting the kids in the Jaguar and opening the garage door with the remote as a diversion, but a fire made better sense. The cops would shit their pants if the house started to burn.

'That's not a bad idea. We could start a fire on the other side of the house.'

Kevin raised his hands.

'You guys are crazy. That adds arson to the charges against us.'

'It makes sense, Kevin. All the cops will be watching the fire. They won't be looking at the neighbor's yard.'

'But what about these people?'

Kevin was talking about the Smiths.

Dennis was about to answer when Mars did it again. His voice was quiet and empty.

'They'll burn.'

The back of Dennis's neck tingled as if Mars had raked a nail across a blackboard.

'Jesus, Mars, nobody has to burn. We can put'm here in the garage before we take off. We'll figure somethin' out.'

They decided to use gasoline to start the fire. Dennis found a two-gallon plastic gas can that the family probably kept for emergencies, but it was almost empty. Mars used the plastic air hose from the family's aquarium to siphon gas from the Jaguar. He filled the two-gallon can, then a large plastic bucket that was stained by detergent. They were carrying the gasoline into the house when they heard the helicopters again change pitch and more cars pull into the cul-de-sac.

Dennis stopped with the bucket, listening, when suddenly the front of the house was bathed in light, framing the huge garage door and spilling into the bathroom window even through the oleanders.

'What the fuck?! What's going on?'

They hurried to the front of the house, gasoline splashing from the bucket.

'Kevin! Watch the French doors!'

Dennis and Mars left the gasoline in the entry, then ran into the office where Walter Smith still twitched on the couch. Spears of light cut through the shutters, painting them with zebra stripes. Dennis opened the shutters and saw that two more police cars filled the street. All four cars had trained their spotlights on the house and a great pool of light from the helicopters burned brilliantly on the front yard. More cars arrived.