Out of Place by Shane Scollins Page B

sure it’s fine. There’s no need to panic.” She walked over to him. Beads of sweat were trickling down his brow, but it wasn’t hot. “Hey, listen—calm down.” He looked at her, and in the glint of the oil lamp light his eyes looked crazy. She swallowed hard. Never before had she seen him like this. Something was all wrong about his reaction. The last day or so he’d been acting different. But she just chalked it up to the isolation, after all, she was feeling a bit antsy herself. “Harry, it’s been four days, I think we should call my dad.”
    He didn’t answer her.
    “Harry, I want to talk to my father.”
    He still didn’t answer.
    “Harry!”
    He looked up .
    “If you don’t let me talk to my dad , I’m leaving. I’m going to just go back to the road and start walking until I see a car.”
    “No!” He stood and took hold of her arm, pulling her across the room.
    “O uch, Harry, you’re hurting me.” She nearly punched his arm away when he stopped.
    “I’m sorry, you’ re right.” He placed the rifle down on the table and circled the room. “I’m just on edge. Your father asked me to protect you. I jumped into soldier mode and it’s hard to climb out. And we haven’t heard anything from anyone. I’m starting to freak out. I’m just afraid something horrible has happened.”
    Emily rubbed and flexed her arm. “It’s fine. Just promise me you’re not going to do anything. Wait until morning and maybe they’ll be gone.”
    He nodded and sat in the chair. Emily moved back to the bed. She wasn’t going back to sleep. The trust she had in Harry had been eroding over the past couple days and now it was all but gone. Sliding into the bed, she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.
    Harry’s phone rang and he quick ly answered. “Hello?” He nodded and listened.
    Emily got up to the edge of the bed, excited; this might be good news that this mess was over. Maybe everything had blown over and she could get back home. She watched Harry; his eyes darted back and forth.
    “I understand.” He hung up the phone.
    “What? What is it?”
    He slid the phone back into his pocket. “ That was your father. It’s just what we suspected. Someone is blackmailing him to steal money. They still think they’ve got you, and they contacted him about hacking some bank in Europe. He said he’s got a plan in motion, so we just need to stick it out for a while longer. He said not to contact him under any circumstances, that if he tried to go to the police they’d kill your entire family.”
    “So we’re not going home?”
    “I’m sorry, Emily, but you may have to get used to this. We may not be going back for a while.” He lay back on the cot and closed his eyes.
    A new resolve started to build in her. Maybe she was taking a big chance, maybe Harry was telling the truth. But something was very fishy here. Why wouldn’t her father ask to talk to her? She didn’t quite know what it was, but in her heart she knew it: something here was wrong.
    After what seemed like hours of staring at the narrow logs that lined the ceiling, waiting, Harry started snoring. She eased out of bed and padded softly across the floor to the kitchen area. She slid open the drawer where she’d see him put his backup phone, but it wasn’t there. There was no way she wasn’t calling someone now. She had to. Even if it was to just hear a voice and hang up.
    Maybe she was too cynical, or maybe it was just her intuition, but she had to talk to someone else. Then she thought about what Harry said: that if they contacted anyone these people would kill her family. But she was having a hard time believing they would know if she contacted her mother’s cell. At the very least, she wanted to see a news report or something about her friends. After all, she didn’t know if perhaps one of them made it, or if all of them made it. Maybe Ren was alive. Emily just needed some outside contact. She was a social person and wasn’t used to