Hold Fast by Olivia Rigal, Shannon Macallan Page B
Authors: Olivia Rigal, Shannon Macallan
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on fire.
Resting my head on my knees, I sob quietly. I can’t take this anymore. Daniel, how can you be so perversely loyal to your brother? Do you think he’ll hesitate to pay you the wages of what he says is a sin? I couldn’t bear to see you stoned to death, even if it didn’t mean I’d be given to that monster afterward!
My getaway fund isn’t huge, not yet. I’ve only managed to hide away a couple hundred dollars. I don’t know what a bus ticket costs, but I’m sure I don’t have enough to get away even to Portland, never mind somewhere far away, and certainly not enough to live on for more than a day or two. Portland isn’t far enough, not to get away from these people. Boston, maybe. Or New York City? I don’t know if even London or Berlin or Shanghai would be far enough away to hide.
I need to go. Somewhere else. Anywhere else.
I need to be free.
* * *
6
Sean
Thursday Evening, 11 August 2016
I t’s been a busy couple days. I’ve got a mission, and that means I need intelligence and supplies. Google makes a hell of an intel shop, though, and Portland has plenty of shopping available. It’s a good thing the Navy paid me out a lump sum for so much of my unused days of leave. I’ve burned through a big chunk of it today.
My mother is home by the time I get back from my expedition, and dinner is ready.
“You’re just in time. Grab a plate,” she says, waving a large brown box in front of me. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was, but the smell of my favorite pizza sets my stomach rumbling. Amato’s has the best you’ll find in southern Maine, handmade in a chain of local delis that still use real ground beef instead of the rabbit-shit-looking processed pellets the national chains use. It’s good stuff.
“Just a minute – my hands are pretty full here. Let me drop this off. I’ll be right there.” I put my bags in the living room for the moment, and when I come back to the kitchen, all I have left are two boxes each with a dozen mixed Dunkin’ Donuts in them.
“Had a bit of a craving today, did you?” My mom is amused.
“Yeah, not sure what happened there. Why don’t you take those with you for the other nurses tomorrow?”
“Thank you, they’ll love that.”
The pizza is just as good I remember, and when we’re done, my mom asks about my shopping.
“Saw a couple bags there from Cabela’s,” she says. “You planning to go camping?”
“I’d sort of thought about it,” I say, shrugging vaguely. “Might head up to Moosehead this weekend. It’s not hunting season yet, but I picked up my license today and thought I might scout out some areas up there for November. Too late for the moose lottery this year, though.”
“Scouting, huh?” She frowns, looking past me at the china cabinet where Bill has the picture stashed.
“Yeah. Blueberries are in season now, too – thought maybe I’d stop at a farmer’s market and get some on the way back. Wouldn’t that be nice? Fresh wild blueberries? Haven’t had those in forever.”
“That’s all you’re looking for? Signs of deer and some blueberries?” My mother has always been able to read me like a book, and her raised eyebrows say she doesn’t believe for a single second that’s really all of it.
“Of course not,” I say. “You know just as well as I do what I’m thinking about here. My question is, why hasn’t Bill gone up there himself?”
“I think he’s afraid to.” Mom sighs. “What if it’s not them? I mean, he doesn’t want Heather back, but he wants to at least know his little girl is alive and okay. If he goes up there and he doesn’t find them? Or if he does find them, and it’s not Courtney? I think he feels like he’ll have lost her all over again.” It makes sense in a sad sort of way.
“What if it is them?”
“What if it is?” She shrugs. “What if she doesn’t want anything to do with him? That Heather was always a poisonous little bitch, and who knows what she’s done to
Resting my head on my knees, I sob quietly. I can’t take this anymore. Daniel, how can you be so perversely loyal to your brother? Do you think he’ll hesitate to pay you the wages of what he says is a sin? I couldn’t bear to see you stoned to death, even if it didn’t mean I’d be given to that monster afterward!
My getaway fund isn’t huge, not yet. I’ve only managed to hide away a couple hundred dollars. I don’t know what a bus ticket costs, but I’m sure I don’t have enough to get away even to Portland, never mind somewhere far away, and certainly not enough to live on for more than a day or two. Portland isn’t far enough, not to get away from these people. Boston, maybe. Or New York City? I don’t know if even London or Berlin or Shanghai would be far enough away to hide.
I need to go. Somewhere else. Anywhere else.
I need to be free.
* * *
6
Sean
Thursday Evening, 11 August 2016
I t’s been a busy couple days. I’ve got a mission, and that means I need intelligence and supplies. Google makes a hell of an intel shop, though, and Portland has plenty of shopping available. It’s a good thing the Navy paid me out a lump sum for so much of my unused days of leave. I’ve burned through a big chunk of it today.
My mother is home by the time I get back from my expedition, and dinner is ready.
“You’re just in time. Grab a plate,” she says, waving a large brown box in front of me. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was, but the smell of my favorite pizza sets my stomach rumbling. Amato’s has the best you’ll find in southern Maine, handmade in a chain of local delis that still use real ground beef instead of the rabbit-shit-looking processed pellets the national chains use. It’s good stuff.
“Just a minute – my hands are pretty full here. Let me drop this off. I’ll be right there.” I put my bags in the living room for the moment, and when I come back to the kitchen, all I have left are two boxes each with a dozen mixed Dunkin’ Donuts in them.
“Had a bit of a craving today, did you?” My mom is amused.
“Yeah, not sure what happened there. Why don’t you take those with you for the other nurses tomorrow?”
“Thank you, they’ll love that.”
The pizza is just as good I remember, and when we’re done, my mom asks about my shopping.
“Saw a couple bags there from Cabela’s,” she says. “You planning to go camping?”
“I’d sort of thought about it,” I say, shrugging vaguely. “Might head up to Moosehead this weekend. It’s not hunting season yet, but I picked up my license today and thought I might scout out some areas up there for November. Too late for the moose lottery this year, though.”
“Scouting, huh?” She frowns, looking past me at the china cabinet where Bill has the picture stashed.
“Yeah. Blueberries are in season now, too – thought maybe I’d stop at a farmer’s market and get some on the way back. Wouldn’t that be nice? Fresh wild blueberries? Haven’t had those in forever.”
“That’s all you’re looking for? Signs of deer and some blueberries?” My mother has always been able to read me like a book, and her raised eyebrows say she doesn’t believe for a single second that’s really all of it.
“Of course not,” I say. “You know just as well as I do what I’m thinking about here. My question is, why hasn’t Bill gone up there himself?”
“I think he’s afraid to.” Mom sighs. “What if it’s not them? I mean, he doesn’t want Heather back, but he wants to at least know his little girl is alive and okay. If he goes up there and he doesn’t find them? Or if he does find them, and it’s not Courtney? I think he feels like he’ll have lost her all over again.” It makes sense in a sad sort of way.
“What if it is them?”
“What if it is?” She shrugs. “What if she doesn’t want anything to do with him? That Heather was always a poisonous little bitch, and who knows what she’s done to
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