Kennedy Stern Christian Suspense Complete Box Set (Books 1-9)

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 7

It took Kennedy a moment or two to adjust to her new surroundings. She was standing on some kind of platform, narrower than a city sidewalk. She touched the wall to steady herself and immediately snatched back her hand, her spine prickling at the thought of all the germs she had just contracted. She reached instinctively for the Germ X in her backpack, only then remembering she had left her bag on the T. She rubbed her grimy fingers together, her nose and cheeks crinkling in disgust.

She stepped farther down the platform. If she had her phone with her, she could have shined some extra light on the path, but of course she had left that behind in her backpack as well. It would be easier to keep her cell in her pocket like every other college student she knew, but the thought of all that radiation sitting right next to her made her skin feel hot and scorched.

Any minute, she expected Reuben to materialize beside her. What was taking him so long? And why didn’t the MBTA keep some kind of emergency lights down here, anyway? It was so dark. She shut her eyes and inhaled. It was all right. She was in a subway tunnel. They had encountered some technical difficulties, but the T lines were so old, the cars so decrepit, this was probably a regular occurrence. Maybe the MBTA would give them all free passes for a year or something as recompense.

So much smoke. She hadn’t known a car could fill that fast.

Kennedy took another few steps away from the train. What if the smoke had come from a bomb? What if it exploded? She thought about the action movies she and her dad liked to watch together, how the hero would leap forward as a fireball blasted behind, outlining him in glorious shades of red and orange. The explosion always gave an extra push but never really injured anybody. Maybe a few scrapes, a small bruise if the directors wanted to be gritty. But Kennedy knew the science behind an explosion in an enclosed space like this. It wouldn’t matter if she was five feet away or fifty. She inched down the platform to put more distance between herself and the train. She didn’t see any flames. That was a good sign. When would Reuben come out?

Submerged memories forced their way to the surface of her mind. Handcuffs, the sharp metal digging into her wrist. The ache in her back from spending a whole night chained on the couch. The crawl of her skin in her squalid surroundings. Images of lice and bedbugs and rodents growing to IMAX proportions on her brain’s mental projector. She hurried farther away from the train, picking up speed as her boots clanked against the cement.

She was panting now. She heard the sound of her own breathing but couldn’t control the rate. Cold. Why couldn’t they at least give her a blanket to wrap up in? The feel of a small child shivering next to her, a child far too young to be trapped with her, a child Kennedy could do nothing to help.

She drew in a sharp breath. She was in a subway station, not handcuffed in a cement basement. It was dark because she was in a tunnel, not because her captors had blindfolded her. She was still free. Nobody was keeping her here against her will. She could walk away whenever she wanted. Nobody would point a gun at her or pull a knife to make her stay.

Forgetting what is behind.

The heat of anger mingled with the chill of fear, and her gut sizzled with steam at the spot where they met. Why couldn’t she get over these silly anxieties? She could tackle twenty-two credits this semester, find time to take her self-defense class, and even read a few books a month just for fun. Why couldn’t she get a grip over her own thoughts instead of letting them trap her into the past whenever they felt like tormenting her?

The old has gone, the new has come. Kennedy quoted one of the verses she had memorized during a recent quiet time. Take every thought captive was another good one. That’s what she had to do. Seize her thoughts. Seize those horrible, relentless memories. Lock them up where she could control them. Give them nothing but water to sip, deprive them of warmth, feed them only on fear. Fear that she would never be rescued. Fear that her captors would murder her and nobody would find out for weeks. Fear that she would have to stand by and watch an innocent child die at the hands of godless, soulless monsters.

She pressed her fingernails into her palms. No, this wasn’t the way to walk in victory. This wasn’t the way to find her freedom and deliverance. If God could take the sins of the world and throw them into the sea of forgetfulness, surely Kennedy could do the same thing to a few old memories that still haunted her. If she only knew how. More prayer, maybe. More Bible reading. She had gotten so busy with finals she had let her spiritual disciplines slide. That’s why she was suffering now. That’s why she felt like the wild rabbit, crouching in plain sight with no hope of shelter or safety, knowing the fox would pounce with its razor teeth but unable to guess when.

Steps on the sidewalk. She felt the vibrations just a yard or two away. “Reuben?” she asked, her voice quiet. So uncertain. “Is that you?”

No answer. Kennedy held her breath. What had her self-defense instructor said? She couldn’t let her brain shut down when she was scared. She had to channel that fear and turn it into positive survival energy.

“Is someone there?” She sounded more like a mouse, her words a pitiful squeal.

No, that wasn’t who Kennedy was anymore. She didn’t have to be afraid. She knew how to protect herself. She even had her pepper spray. Wait, that was still on the T along with everything else. Why hadn’t she remembered to take her backpack with her?

“Don’t get any closer. Stay where you are.” She tried not to sound too forceful. What would people think of her? It was probably just another passenger getting off the train. How had she gotten so far from the main group in the first place?

She hurried down the walkway. The footsteps echoed behind. She glanced over her shoulder. “You need to stop following me.” Kennedy spoke assertively like she had practiced in her class. She had been so self-conscious those first few times she had to stare her instructor right in the eye and say ridiculous things like, “Get back five feet,” or “No, you’re making me uncomfortable, and I want you to leave.” But nothing had been as awkward as the simulations when they brought in male volunteers to attack the students. She hoped to never suffer through something that humiliating again, whether in a controlled role-play setting or in real life.

Hot breath tickled her neck. Or was that just her imagination? If she reached out her arm, she would know for sure if someone was there. But what if he grabbed her? What if Vinny had escaped custody? What if he followed her and was just waiting for the chance to get her alone?

She wouldn’t be victimized again. She had to get away. She wouldn’t let him catch up to her. A footstep on the concrete. Not a fabrication. Not this time. It was real. Real as the scientific method. Real as her parents’ love for her. Real as death. In the pitch darkness, she rushed ahead, running her fingers along the grimy wall so she would know which way to go as she sprinted down the walkway. What did contracting a few germs compare to getting murdered?

How close was he now? And why couldn’t she have remembered her pepper spray? She strained her ears but only heard the slap of her boots on the walkway, the sound of her own panting, the pounding of her heart valves in her pericardial sac. She didn’t want to stop, couldn’t slow down, but she had to save her strength. She needed energy to fight back when he caught up. She couldn’t hear him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t coming.

Any second now.