Fight or Flight by Natalie J. Damschroder

college student.” He flipped open his pad and looked down at it.
    “That’s it? That’s all you have?”
    “Patience, Ms. Miller. They tracked down two of her suitemates at the library. They hadn’t seen her since lunch. Her other roommate, Savannah Leigh, is unaccounted for as well.”
    “Oh, God, tell me they didn’t do anything to Van.” Regan felt sick. It was all her fault. She’d been the one to let Kelsey go away to school.
    “We don’t know. They questioned people in the area. The girl across the hall said your daughter came in to look out the window and turned the lights off to do it. A few minutes later she was leaving to go out and saw Ms. Leigh running down the hall with a backpack and her field hockey stick.”
    Regan took a deep breath and finally calmed down, her brain clicking into gear. “Okay, she left. I need to call her.” Why hadn’t she thought of that first? “I need a phone. I can call her cell phone. She always has it.” She leaned for the phone, but Tyler got there first and handed it to her. She dialed and got a fast busy signal. “How the hell do I get a line out?”
    Tyler read the instructions off the phone and started dialing. “What’s her number?” Biting back a protest, Regan told him. He finished dialing and handed the phone back to her.
    It went right to voice mail. “Shit.” She waited for the beep. “Kelsey, it’s Mom. I need to know you’re safe. Call me back. Uh—” Tyler recited his cell phone number and she repeated it, narrowing her eyes at him. He knew she wasn’t staying here long, or he’d have given the hospital’s room number.
    Officer Boyse said, “Now will you please answer my questions?”
    “Of course.” At his prompt, she dutifully explained what had happened that night, right up to what the last guy had said to her before she’d blacked out.
    “You didn’t know any of them? Did they say what they wanted?”
    She shook her head. “I’d never seen any of them before. I know they’re stupid, because he said he’d leave me to die slowly when he should have known my injuries weren’t life threatening. And there were more of them, because at least one of them wasn’t in any shape to leave on his own. They needed help getting their own bodies out of there.” She remembered the press of cold—glass?—on her cut arm but hesitated to describe it. Why on earth would they want her blood?
    “Where did you get the gun, Ms. Sloane?”
    “It’s mine. It’s registered.” She’d memorized the number and gave it to him. “Can I have it back?”
    “We didn’t find it.”
    “Dammit.”
    He grilled her relentlessly, the clock on the wall ticking minute after far too many minutes, until she was ready to beat him up just to get out of there. She tried calling Kelsey twice more, with the same result. And Tyler, at her urging, went outside twice—per hospital policy—to check his voice mail. The last time, he came back in just as Boyse closed his pad.
    “I got a message. It sounded like Kelsey. She said she’s okay, she’s with friends, and they’re coming here to see you. I couldn’t reach her when I tried to call back.”
    Officer Boyse unclipped his radio. “We’ll put out an APB. Do you have any idea what car they’re driving?”
    “She didn’t say.” Tyler looked at Regan.
    “Kelsey doesn’t have a car. Her boyfriend might have one, though, and I’d bet anything he’s one of the friends with her. His name is Tom Johnson.”
    “Okay, we’ll look into it. We’ll let you know any information as soon as we get it. Please just rest and recover. Your daughter’ll be fine.”
    “Thank you, Officer.” There was no point arguing, protesting or asking them to do anything more. He left, and she stood. “Tyler, I appreciate your help. I don’t want to drag you into this, but I need two favors. Can you please get me some scrubs or something to wear, and take me to get my truck?”
    “You’re going after her. Regan, if