Chapter 26 I Know You
Grace woke up with a start. It was dark, and her surroundings smelled of rust. She immediately winced and shut her eyes; her head throbbed, a dull, pulsing ache that spread from her temple down to her jaw. She tried to lift her hand to touch it or to feel for blood or swelling, but her wrist jerked to a stop.
Metal bit into her skin.
Her eyes snapped open.
She allowed her eyes to adjust and get used to the darkness, and that was when she realized she was in the back of a truck. She’d been around Maddox long enough to know how that felt.
The walls of this truck were metal, windowless and the only light came from a thin crack near the ceiling where the panels didn't quite meet. It looked like some sort of armored truck, the floor beneath her vibrated with the rumble of the engine and the whole space swayed and jolted with every turn. They were on the move.
Grace's breath came fast and shallow, she yanked at her wrist again causing the chain to rattle loudly in the enclosed space.
Chains?
She was in chains!
Panicking, she twisted her hands trying to slip free but the metal cuffs were too tight. They were bolted to the wall behind her, keeping her arms stretched awkwardly to either side.
"Stop," a voice said quietly. "You'll just hurt yourself."
Grace's head whipped to the side.
There were others.
Four of them, maybe five. It was hard to tell in the dim light and they were all chained like her, lined up along the walls of the truck. Shadows obscured their faces but she could see their shapes. There was a woman with her head bowed. An old man slouched against the wall, his eyes closed. A younger girl, sitting beside her maybe she was thirteen, sitting with her knees close to her chest.
Grace's voice came out hoarse. "Where are we?"
No one answered.
She pulled at the chains again, harder this time.
"What is this? Why are we chained up?"
Still nothing.
The woman with the bowed head shifted slightly, her shoulders adjusting but she didn't look up.
"Please," Grace said, her voice breaking. "Someone tell me what's happening."
The man against the wall opened his eyes. He looked at her for a long moment, his expression flat and unreadable. Then he closed them again.
Grace's chest tightened. "Why won't you answer me?"
"Because there's no point," the younger girl said quietly.
Grace turned toward her. The girl's face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed as if she'd been crying. She looked exhausted and defeated.
"No point in what?" Grace asked.
The girl shook her head. "There's no point in talking about it or asking questions that won’t change anything."
"And what exactly is the situation? Who the hell abducted us?"
The girl's mouth trembled, and she looked away.
Grace's pulse hammered in her ears. "Please. I just... I need to understand. Who took us? Where are they taking us?"
"Does it matter?" the man muttered, his eyes still closed.
"Yes," Grace said, her voice rising. "Yes, it matters. I need to know—"
"You'll find out soon enough," the woman said, her voice low and bitter, still yet to look up. "We all will."
Grace stared at her, frustration and fear boiling over wondering why the hell no one but her seemed bothered. "That's not good enough. I need to know now. I need—"
"You need to be quiet," the man snapped, his eyes opening again. This time, they were glowing and looked angry. "You think you're the first person to wake up back here asking questions? You're not. And it doesn't matter how loud you scream or how much you beg. They do not care." He said enunciating each word.
Grace flinched.
The man's jaw tightened and he looked away, “Save your energy. You're going to need it."
The truck hit a pothole and Grace's body jerked forward, the chains rattled and pain shot through her wrists where the metal had already started to chafe her skin.
She bit down on her lip forcing herself to breathe, and maybe think.
This couldn't be happening It didn't make any sense, she'd been at home. She'd been running. And then—
The masked men.
Grace's stomach twisted, they'd been looking for something. Or someone.
They'd been looking for her.
But why? And it was quite obvious that they weren't sent by Vance because her question had confused the man who answered and why would they abducted her just to keep her with others?
She looked at the others again, studying them more closely. The woman's hands were scarred, her face bruised. She also had a split lip, and the man had one eye swollen shut with dried blood around his arm and neck, his clothes were torn and dirty, while the girl looked like she hadn't slept or eaten in days.
"How long have you been here?" Grace asked quietly.
No one answered.
"Please," she said again. "I just... I need to know I'm not going crazy."
The girl looked at her, her eyes glassy. "Two days," she whispered. "I've been here two days."
Grace's heart sank, “The truck has been driving around for days? How about them?"
The girl glanced at the others, “I don't know. They don't talk much, it was the same when they picked me up. I met them in here.”
"Why don't they talk?"
The girl shrugged, her shoulders trembling. "Maybe they've given up."
Grace's throat felt tight. She looked down at her wrists, at the red marks already forming where the cuffs dug into her skin. She pulled at them again, testing the strength of the chain, but it didn't budge.
She was trapped.
They all were.
“You know, you put up a good fight.” Grace looked up to find the girl smiling at her.
“What do you mean?” She asked frowning.
The girl smiled more, “We could hear you. We knew they were going to get someone else when we'd stopped moving, they left one here to watch us while three went for you. We thought you would be able to escape till we couldn't hear you anymore and we knew they'd got you.
We all watched when they brought you in and strapped you with chains, the one who carried you had a cut underneath his eye. You did that?”
Grace curled into herself, not feeling any sense of accomplishment from that little feat, “Yeah.”
The truck rumbled on, the engine's hum filling the silence. Grace leaned her head back against the metal wall her mind racing. She thought of her parents. Of Maddox. Of Enzo.
Would anyone even notice she was gone? Her chest ached.
The girl beside her shifted, and Grace glanced over.
"What's your name?" she asked softly.
The girl hesitated. "Willow."
"I'm Grace."
Willow nodded, but she didn't say anything else she just stared at the floor, her fingers twisting together in her lap.
Grace wanted to say something, wanted to tell her it would be okay. But she didn't know if that was true so she stayed quiet.
And the truck kept moving.
Grace didn't know how long they'd been driving. An hour? Two? Time felt slippery, impossible to track in the dark.
Her wrists were raw now and her arms ached from being held in the same position for too long. She had tried shifting, tried finding a more comfortable way to sit but the chains didn't give her much room to move.
Willow had fallen asleep at some point, her head lolling against the metal wall. The man across from them was still awake, his eyes fixed on the floor. The woman hadn't moved at all.
Grace's eyes were starting to drift closed when the truck suddenly jerked to a stop.
Her body lurched forward and the chains snapped taut, yanking her back, pain shot through her shoulders and she gasped.
Willow jolted awake, her eyes wide. "Argh—"
"Shh," the man hissed.
Everyone froze but Grace still glared at him, she thought he was a bitter old man.
The engine was still running but the truck wasn't moving. Grace could hear voices outside, muffled and distant.
Then they were closer, grunting and growling.
"Check the perimeter."
"Already did. Nothing."
"Check again."
There were footsteps with heavy boots against gravel.
Grace's heart pounded she glanced at Willow, whose face had gone pale, and then at the others. The woman had finally lifted her head, her eyes wide and alert.
"What's happening?" Grace whispered.
The man didn't answer. He was staring at the door, his jaw tight but there was something like relief in his eyes.
More voices. Louder now.
"You smell that?"
Grace's breath caught.
"Yeah. I smell them."
"They're in there."
The truck rocked slightly and Grace heard the unmistakable sound of metal scraping against metal. Someone was trying to open the door.
"Hold on," one of the masked men outside shouted.
"Man, we've got company!” An excited voice said.
There was a loud thud, followed by a crash, then shouting, lots of it.
"Get them out!"
"Move, move!”
The truck shook violently and Grace's chains rattled. She could hear fighting now, the sound of fists hitting flesh, bodies hitting the ground.
"What's going on?" Willow whispered, her voice trembling.
Grace didn't know, couldn't see anything nor could she tell what was happening outside.
There was a roar, low and animalistic, then a scream.
The door to the truck suddenly slammed open.
Light flooded in from the streetlights, it was so blinding after staying so long in the dark. Grace squinted, her eyes watering as she tried to see who was there.
A figure stepped into the doorway. Tall, broad-shouldered, backlit by the sun.
"Are you hurt?" a voice asked.
Grace blinked, her vision slowly adjusting. The figure moved closer, and she saw him clearly for the first time.
Dark hair. Sharp features. Eyes that scanned the inside of the truck with quick, assessing movements.
"We're getting you out," he said. "Hold still."
He moved toward the woman first, using a key to free her, and a moment later, the chains snapped open, metal cuffs falling to the floor.
Grace stared.
Who were these people?
The man moved to the next person, who was the bitter old man, he said something to the one saving them that was too fast for Grace to catch. The chains fell one by one, clattering to the floor. When he reached Willow, the girl flinched but he just gave her a reassuring nod.
"You're safe now," he said.
Then he turned to Grace.
Their eyes met, and Grace's breath caught she knew him.
Not well as they've never really spoken, except that day and even then he didn't speak more than a word or two, but she recognized him.
Zion.
Enzo's cousin.
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Zion's expression shifted his eyes widening slightly. He froze, the tool in his hand hovering over her chains.