"I'm glad this is going to be over soon," her mother said with relief, sitting back and rubbing her forehead with her fingertips. "Your father and I are going out for the first time in weeks."
Emily sat up in her chair.
"You're going to leave me alone? Oh, no, please, don't!" Emily cried, putting her hands together.
"Don't be silly, Emily. I know you're worried about those two, dear," she said, resting a comforting hand on her shoulders. "But by now they're out of the state. They wouldn't dare come back on base."
The girl felt her heart pound so hard she thought it would tear through her chest.
"Mama, you didn't see that man when he warned me not to say anything!" Emily pleaded. Her mother rose and slid a comforting arm around her daughter. Upstairs Emily could hear her father walking back and forth, pacing, still shamed by what had happened.
"You've got our phone number if you're in trouble. You know, Emily, this has been tough on your father. He has to get out."
"I… guess," the girl said, laying her head on her mother's chest and sighing deeply. Maybe she was right. Maybe those two got out of California and were somewhere far away, never to threaten her or her family again.
"Well, your father and I have to go or we'll be late," her mother said, pushing Emily away and straightening her hair.
Emily bit her lip and said nothing more as her parents dressed and left. She stood at the front window, watching the car pull out, then rushed through the large house making sure all the doors and windows were locked.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"There," she said, satisfied she'd bolted herself in. Returning to the den the young woman switched on the television, curling up in the high backed armchair and feeling herself slowly dropping to sleep.
"Oh!"
The phone rang. The shrill jangling made Emily jump. Then she thought it had to be her father phoning that he'd forgotten something. That always seemed to happen. The girl ran to the phone table and picked up the receiver, expecting to hear her father's gruff voice.
"Hi, babe. Remember me and what I told you?"
Emily's blood froze. She held the receiver to her ear, feeling her mind reeling. Her vocal cords wouldn't respond. She listened to the heavy breathing, to the awful threats. Then Jack stopped talking for a moment.
"You're all alone. We been watchin' you. We're gonna make you take back that lie you told about our buddies."
Watching her? Emily dropped the receiver to the floor, backing away from it, hugging her body, looking around the room desperately. Where would they come from? The windows? Breaking the doors down?
"Oh, God!" she cried, rushing back to the phone. They'd hung up. Good! She'd call her parents, call the police! They'd never get… Oh, no, the line was dead. They were already nearby, close enough to cut the wires!
"Help me, someone," she cried in a tiny voice, feeling so helpless. For what seemed like an eternity, Emily leaned against one wall, hugging her body tightly, pricking her ears and listening for the slightest sound that would indicate someone was breaking in. And then… and then what? How could she defend herself? Terror had numbed her reason, her confidence.
Finally shaking the paralyzing fear from her mind, the girl ran for the kitchen, pulling open one counter drawer and drawing out a carving knife. She stared at the sharp blade and how it gleamed under the light. Could she actually stab someone with that? Emily shivered, wondering how it would feel to drive that blade into another human being.
Her thoughts were broken by the sound of one of the downstairs windows rattling. Her flesh crawled as she braced herself against the counter with one hand while clutching the knife with the other. The sounds came from the den area. Leaning forward she peered into the darkness. More rattling. Then there was the sound of breaking glass.
Emily felt faint. She pushed herself from the counter and rushed to one side of the swinging kitchen door, flattening herself against the wall. The girl could imagine what he'd do to her if he caught her.
"Over here," she heard someone whisper. Were they going upstairs? Could she make a break for the front door? She heard rustling sounds interrupted by the droning television. Seconds turned to long minutes – and still no one entered the kitchen.
Oh, if only she could run. Hut no! That would be giving her position away.
Then Emily heard the floor squeak just a few feet away from the kitchen door. They were coming in! She held her breath, flattening herself against the wall, tightening her fingers around the knife handle. The girl felt all emotion drained from her. She was an animal… an animal cornered and terrified, fighting for her life!
The door opened slowly. Emily drew the knife from her side when she saw a shape move out from the door. She struck quickly, bringing the blade down in a wide arc, driving the knife into someone's hand.
"Fuck!"
"Ohhhhhh, God!"
The door flew back, knocking her hard against the shoulder before she had time to run out and face her attackers. The girl saw blood on the floor, on her clothes, on Jack. Bob lunged for her. His hands were all over, knocking her back, snapping her from side to side. The young marine slid one foot behind her legs, pushed her back while twisting her right arm to one side, and slammed her wrist against the refrigerator. With a wail Emily felt the knife fly from her fingers.
They had her!
What happened next was a nightmare. Hands came from everywhere, slapping her, spinning her around, knocking her finally down to the floor. Emily covered her face, trying to protect herself. She screamed, twisting around, breaking temporarily away from the hands grabbing her shoulders and waist, scooting across the kitchen floor. But Jack and Bob were determined to punish the young blonde for her betrayal. They reached for her wrists and ankles, cursing her, striking the teen again and again across the face, telling her how they were going to torture her.
"Oh, God, help me!"
Emily screamed out again and again, one time actually managing to crawl up to the sink counter to reach out, pounding on the small double window with her fists until the glass cracked. Across the dark yard she could see the lights of her neighbor's house. Inside everyone was warm, enjoying dinner. Why didn't someone look up and see her? Emily screamed again, clawing at the small white kitchen curtains until Jack hooked one around her waist and pulled her away. He spun her around then pushed her back against the refrigerator. The young girl felt the handle jab into her spine like a knife, the force of that shove knocking the wind out of her. A cookie jar fell off the top and shattered on the floor. Emily felt her heart pounding wildly. She closed her eyes and prayed as she sank terrified to the floor.
"C'mon, let's get 'er outta here," Jack muttered.
Emily felt arms sup under her knees, lift her from the floor, and carry her quickly out the back door. She wanted to scream. Yet she was too dazed, too weak with terror to make a sound. She heard a dog barking from the next lot. There were people all around her. If only she could alert them.
"Get in, slut!"
Jack shoved the blonde teen into the rear of an old pick-up, climbing in behind her.
"Let's head out," the big marine said forcefully as Bob jumped into the driver's seat.
The truck whined, then turned over and roared into action. Emily felt the vehicle jerk forward then speed down the narrow street. She curled herself tightly into a small ball, hugging her waist and chest hard, feeling the stupor that had temporarily settled over her brain slowly evaporate. She peered out the rear window and saw they were heading east along Las Pulgas Road – away from her home, protection, her father.