Roy stirs out of a disturbed sleep. Exhaustion drains his face and spidery blood vessels spread out across his blue eyes. Groaning he runs his fingers through his tousled hair.
He stairs at the crumpled newspaper splayed out in front of him. The edges of the pages are bent and frayed.
The headline is bold against the stained page. His eyes flicker over the article written about his missing daughter.
"Roy?" Jacquie's voice trills from somewhere inside the convenience store. The door jams before swinging open. "Have you been here all night?" she asks.
"I think so," Roy groans. He stares at the empty Whiskey bottle fallen over his desk. Remnants of the golden liquid drip off of the lip of the bottle.
Pain swells against Roy's skull, throbbing. "Christ," Jacquie groans, scooping up the bottle. "Are you hung over?" her voice is sharp with accusation.
Roy presses the palms of his hands against his eyes. "Look sober up before we have to open," Jacquie says.
"Jacquie," Roy moans.
"Don't you fall apart on me and don't you dare fall apart on Joan," Jacquie snaps.
"Do you know who gave you this?" Roy asks, closing his hand against the note written in a foreign and exotic language. "Yeah why?" Jacquie shrugs.
"I found another one," Roy points limply to the note staring from beneath the glass, encased in the photo frame.
"Um...Nate gave it to me," Jacquie breathes, focusing on the note.
"Can you look it up for me? Figure out what it means?"
"Yeah. Whatever," Jacquie rolls her green eyes, collecting the notes.
She collapses in front of the old, sluggish computer, switching it on. "Wouldn't he have had to of broken in here to put this one in?" Jacquie smoothes her thumb over the frame.
"Yeah," Roy sighs, glancing at the newspaper.
"What was in here?" Jacquie frowns.
"A photo of Ella."
"He said he knew her," Jacquie murmurs, sweeping her hand lightly over the mouse.
Roy's head snaps up, "When?"
"Just after she went missing," Jacquie shrugs. Silence ebbs around the both of them, making her uncomfortable.
"You don't think he has something to do with this...do you?" she clicks on the internet link and wait impatiently for it to load. "I don't know. I talked to him yesterday. He seemed pretty jumpy. The kid was covered in bruises," Roy says.
She drums her fingers over the keys. "OK the first one says I'm sorry," Jacquie breathes.
"Maybe I should call the police," Roy murmurs, sitting up straight.
"For what? So he's a little strange," Jacquie whines, "Any way he's not old enough to do it."
"He's seventeen," Roy mutters.
"Yeah but what about the bones? Some of them are from the nineties. He'd be like seven."
Roy's jaw clicks tight. He slumps against the chair. "He knows something."
Jacquie shakes her head, "Look I've got to go set up or we'll never open."
***
Rick tightens his hands over the steering wheel. His dark eyes burn with vicious intensity, focusing on something distant. "What are we here for?" Nate sighs, slouching against the seat and folding his arms across his chest.
Cooper whines and rests his head on the back seat. "Nails," Rick's voice is sharp and cold. Nate's stomach twists into sickening knots. "What do we need those for?" he pleads for the naivety he'd been blessed with as a young child. The answer haunts him, lingering over his mind. "The cross boy," Rick shakes his head impatiently.
"I thought we already had one," Nate mumbles.
"She's the last sacrifice. She needs something a little more...special."
Sickened, Nate cracks the car door open. Cooper sits up, standing on the backseat before leaping over the glove box and stumbling over Nate's lap.
Disapproval drowns Rick's eyes. Nate watches
him climb out of the car, slamming the door shut.
He drags himself out of the car, letting the door click shut. Heat swarms over him, engulfing him in the Australian climate.
"Come on," Nate follows Rick into the convenience store, easily coaxing Cooper inside. The air-conditioning blasts over him, icy and raw.
"Stay here," Rick orders, wandering down a narrow aisle. Nate buries his hands in his pockets, straying around the store. Cooper nuzzles the side of his foot and sniffs the floor.
"Hi," Jacquie's voice is lively despite the worry embedded underneath it's surface. Nate glances over his shoulder at her. "You speak Spanish right?" she asks.
"Si," Nate nods uncomfortably.
"Can you come read something for me?" she leans forward on the counter, clearly displaying her charisma and seduction. She watches the lack of interest flash dull Nate's features. "I think it's in Spanish. I'm not sure."
"Sure," Nate shrugs.
She leads him into the back room. He hesitates in the door way, staring at Roy.
"Found your translation," Jacquie mumbles, twirling on her heels and brushing past Nate. She nearly trips over Cooper, stepping awkwardly around him. She skips back out into the store, abandoning Nate in the silence.
Roy slumps over the desk inside the claustrophobic room. Colour dwindles in his skin and his face reads signs of neglect.
His gaze falters over a layer of fresh bruises coating Nate's neck, a darker shade of his olive skin. "Thought I told you to stay out of those fights," Roy mutters, falling limply against his seat.
"I have."
Cooper ventures deeper inside the room, exploring the stacks of boxes. "Coop," Nate scolds.
"His fine," Roy breathes.
He runs his fingers through his hair, cringing. "I just want to know if she's alive," Roy sighs.
"Who?" Nate tries to slip innocence into his voice.
"Ella. I just want to know if she's alive."
Nate draws in a deep breath and nods, "She's alive."
Roy's head snaps up and his blue eyes bore into him. "Do you know where she is?" The question looms of Nate's thoughts, tearing at him. "Si." He winces, breaking under the weight of the secret, "But I can't tell you where."
Roy frowns and stares at the boy, who suddenly looks so young and broken. Tortured into the fragile state of guilt and longing. "Y-you need to go to the police," he murmurs.
Nate shakes his head, "I can't." His gaze avoids contact with Roy's, locking on the floor. "Whatever is going on they can fix," he urges.
"I-I can't. They...they'll hurt her."
"Who?" frustration ebbs just beneath Roy's voice.
"I can't. I can't tell you," pain flickers across Nate's features.
"Please. Just tell me where she is," Roy begs. He fights the urge to give into the frustration and shout at him. "I'm sorry but I-I can't," Nate sighs.
"Where is my daughter," Roy's voice turns sharp.
"In a basement," Nate cringes, "Just out of town."
He feels the anxiety rise inside his chest, the fear of getting caught. "I can't tell you where exactly or they'll kill her before you have a chance."
"Did they hit you?" Roy asks, feeling a fresh kind of terror wrap around him, "Because you know?" Roy leans forward on his chair, "Did they bash you into keeping quiet?" Closing his eyes Nate nods uncomfortably. "I'm sorry but I have to go now."
YOU ARE READING
Salvation
Teen FictionShe's his prize, his beautiful, flawless prize. She's his trophy, a girl he stole from the world. He holds her captive in the harsh shadows of the basement and tortures her. He loves her, charishes her every breath and lives off her every scream. He...
