The Other Sister (Sister Series, #1) Read online

  She didn’t know if it was day or night, or when she last ate, and was beginning to wonder how long before she forgot her own name. Feeling more alone and oppressed by the unrelenting dark, her tears were long since dried, as she curled up into a helpless ball. She slept a little, but mostly out of exhaustion. She dreamed of being home… with her sister. She also dreamt of a warm bath… and razor blades… and pain. But this was a pain she could manage. Then she opened her eyes, and had to bite back the groan of dismay. Oh God, it wasn’t a dream! It was real, she was here, really here, it wasn’t a nightmare, it was real, and the sanctuary she found in her sleep was the real dream.

  She opened her eyes to a noise. A new noise. She pushed her body harder against the wall, wishing it could swallow her up. It was the sound of keys, jingling with each footstep. Then the cruel padlock snapped open. The door to her cell opened up and light poured in. She blinked back the stinging in her eyes and tried to see through the milky light. It wasn’t the daylight, but a bare light bulb in the hallway leading to wherever she was. A whimper of futility escaped her, and she pushed her knees deeper into her chest. No! No! They couldn’t take her back there! Not again. Not ever again.

  The silent, hooded man came forward without a word, or any glimmer of humanity in the dead eyes that stared at her from under his hood. She cowered and tried to slide on the dirt floor, but the chain around her leg kept her from moving more than a couple of inches away from the hooded man. In an instant, he had her leg in his hand as he inserted another key into the locked chain around her leg. She knew what was next, and the terror it inspired had her twisting, writhing, and shrieking in hoarse yelps as she tried to stay in the relative security of the hovel, despite its unlit dankness. At least, she was left alone there. Knowing she was no match for her silent abductor, or the knife he held at her throat to still her, she obediently complied as she was led out of her cell.

  ****

  Falling into an exhausted, miserable heap, Jessie watched the door to her dungeon clang shut before she let out a cry. The room was as dark as a coffin. She couldn’t see her hand before her face, or her feet on the floor. She saw nothing. But she felt… Something. Something was near her. Something alive. She felt sure of it. There was nothing she could see, and no sound, but she knew, right down to the marrow in her bones, that something alive was near her. Something stirred the air just barely, but enough for her to know it was something alive.

  All at once, a small, laser-like beam, similar to the sight on a sniper’s rifle, flashed through the small cell. She cowered at first, then stopped, as she realized it was merely the beam from the smallest flashlight she’d ever seen. Hardly more than a thread of light, but against the blackness, it seemed almost like a floodlight, illuminating the unending, stifling void of darkness.

  Jessie looked up, and up some more, before she comprehended there was a man in her cell. He was standing against the door, but started to take a half step forward, towards her, following the small ray of light he pointed at her.

  She scrambled to her feet as best she could, but clumsily, as her legs were nearly numb from lack of exercise and blood circulation. The chain restrained her to no more than three feet from the wall behind her. She was preparing to scream when the phantom spoke.

  “Your father sent me.”

  The disembodied voice was so soft, and whisper-like, she almost failed to hear it. Her father? He sent someone to her here? But how? How could anyone know where to find her? She couldn’t make any sense of it. How did this man get into her cell? How could she not hear the rusty, old hinges squeaking open? Every other time, its creaks alerted and prepared her. How did this nameless, faceless person manage to get in without her knowing?

  “Do you understand, Ms. Bains? I’ve come to get you out.”

  He said her name. No one here ever called her anything. Here, she was faceless, nameless, and less than human. But this man called her by her name. He couldn’t be one of them. He just couldn’t be.

  “Don’t scream. Be quiet,” the voice warned, stepping closer. Now she could barely make out his shape. He was big, and wearing dark clothes, with something on his head.

  “Who are you? How did you get in here?”

  He stepped forward until he was right next to her. “The door,” he whispered into her ear. “When they took you out, I slipped in and hid behind the door until they brought you back.”

  The door? He said it as if it were a casual walk through the building. A building that was crawling with armed men. How could they get out now that they were both locked in the cell?

  Jessie’s voice was so hoarse, she found it hard to speak, as well as find the words she wanted to say. “Who are you?”

  “Colonel Hendricks. I’m a ranger.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes, and her shoulders sagged. So much relief, so much indescribable gratitude did she feel that she almost fell onto her knees. He was military! He was one of her father’s beloved 75th ranger regiment! There was no other group her father loved more. Oh God, her father really did send this man for her. Hope renewed her. She might not die down here.

  She swayed on her feet, and his hand gripped her elbow. “Can you stand?”

  She opened her eyes. She could stand. She had to stand. She could do anything this man asked her to get out of here. She nodded. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and hold onto him. She wanted to beg him to never leave her alone again. Not here. Not in this black hole. She’d do anything he asked if he would not abandon her here.

  The light suddenly traveled over her and he hesitated. She sensed it. He didn’t know what to say to her. Finally, however, he whispered, “Can you make it out of here on your own feet?”

  She couldn’t imagine what a sight she must have been, or what he thought or saw. But she would gladly do anything to escape what she feared might soon become her grave. “Yes. Anything. I’ll do anything. Just don’t leave me here,” she spoke in a hushed whisper. Her tone was so strained and filled with so much desperation, she almost started to cry. “Please, just don’t leave me here.”

  He was staring at her despite the darkness. She had no idea what he looked like. She knew nothing of him, except he was now privy to the most intimate, humiliating, and painful moments of her life. She didn’t even care. She only cared that he was here now and would never leave her behind.

  “I won’t leave you, Ms. Bains,” his voice assured her softly, and confidently. She believed him too. The way he said it made her nearly collapse with relief into him. She believed in him more than she ever believed in anyone. She knew if he were lying, she’d certainly and most literally die. She would curl up into a ball and die right there in her cell.

  Chapter Two

  “How do we get out?”

  He started to answer, but suddenly stiffened. “Shhh!”

  What did he hear? She could hear nothing as he switched his light off, and moved as silently as a shadow back to his hiding spot. By the time the noisy padlock and keys sounded, he seemed to completely disappear. It was as if she were, once again, all alone in her cell. She started trembling. Oh God, help was so close, she regained so much strength, thinking she wasn’t alone here. But now, they were back. And she was, once again, their prisoner. What could this man do to save her now?

  The hooded captor lumbered towards her when, out of nowhere, he stopped and dropped to his knees. Right at her feet. She gasped. What happened?

  She looked down to see blood coloring the floor. Holy shit! The man’s throat was slashed. The soldier came up behind her captor so quickly and so silently, even she couldn’t detect his movement, and she knew he was there. Relief washed over her, and in stunned disbelief, she saw that her hooded captor was dead. Bleeding out over her feet. She recoiled in horror and finally looked up at the soldier, who was dimly illuminated by the glow of the light bulb slicing through the open door.

  He leaned down and frisked the man he just dispatched, removing the man’s knife that had more than once be
en pressed against her neck. Rolling her captor over, he started removing his shirt as quickly and easily as one would undress a doll. Then the soldier straightened, and approached her once more. He remained as cool and calm as if he’d just shook the man’s hand, never mind slitting his throat. Her liberator was as deadly, and as quick as anything she ever imagined. He handed her the dirty, overpoweringly odorous shirt off the dead captor.

  She took it, unable to look her rescuer in the eye. He noticed, and knew of course, that she was naked and dirty from being chained to the wall in the dark. He had just addressed her first concern, how could she escape totally naked? She slipped the stinking black shirt over her head, grateful for the first offer of decency since she was thrown into the cell after being brutally stripped.

  The shirt hung down to her knees, and was stretched out at the armpits, but she was grateful for having something to hide her body in. Her phantom soldier then stepped over the body, and approached her. He knelt down on one knee and placed his gloved hand gently on her ankle, where the chain abraded her skin into bloody scabs. He shone the light beam onto it. She bit her lip, almost crying out in frustration. She couldn’t stand another second of feeling trapped. Then she realized what was happening. He had the keys! Of course, he took the keys off the guard he killed.

  The lock on the chain anklet gave, and for the first time in more than three days, she was free of the cursed wall. Tears fell, blinding her vision.

  “We don’t have long. Someone is bound to investigate why you aren’t with this man, going wherever he was ordered to take you.”

  “How long have you been in here?”

  She sensed his pause as he glanced up at her. “Awhile. I learned their routine, and waited for the first opportunity.”

  She thought about his answer. He must know then. She felt his gaze fixed on her, even in the dark. Without any words or verification, she was somehow sure, he must have seen or known what they did to her.

  “Do as I say, and follow me as quietly as you can. I’m going to lead us out of here, hopefully before they find out I ever came. Can you do that?”

  She looked at him. “Yes. Yes, I can do anything you need of me.”

  He placed something in her hand and when she glanced down, she saw it was a gun.

  “Do you know how to use it?”

  “No.”

  “Pull here to release the safety. Then point and shoot. Don’t hesitate if something happens. If I can’t help you. Do it,” he commanded with a step back, before adding, “just try not to hit me.”

  She heard the wryness in his tone and was surprised at his injection of humor, and humanity. She was so removed from her real life, she couldn’t remember how normal felt anymore. She was holding a gun in her hand and commanded to use it if she needed to.

  She held the small weapon in her sweaty hands. She found some reassurance in its power, which she lost during the nightmare she endured.

  “Come on.”

  Suddenly, the soldier turned, and started towards the door. He motioned for her to follow him. After checking the hallway, he locked the cell door behind him as if Jessie were still in there. He looked right and left before starting down the gloomy corridor. He walked fast, and so quietly, she couldn’t hear the impact of his boots. She trailed him as if a cord ran between them. He was her only hope. She’d die down here if they didn’t make it. Now that she was free, she swore she’d shoot herself before anyone took her back to the darkness. She couldn’t handle that. She couldn’t face it again. Not ever.

  ****

  The soldier had a backpack, which was full of stuff. He had a gun strapped across his chest, and two more at his hips. He wore camo fatigues, black boots, a dark bandana on his head, and night vision goggles over his eyes. That’s why he could move around the cell as if it were daylight. He had her in his sights. There was nothing, no ugly detail of her captivity, that he did not now know.

  Who was he? She had no idea. She didn’t know all the names of her father’s men.

  He suddenly turned, leading her up a stairwell. He moved with such speed and assurance, she trusted he knew exactly where he was going, what he was doing, and had a definite plan in mind. Then he abruptly stopped before a window, becoming so eerily silent, he could have been a ghost.

  She felt as helpless as a newborn. Barefoot, almost naked, malnourished, and weak, she tried to stand on shaky legs she hadn’t used in days. She was exhausted, scared, and had no clue where they were or how to get out. She had to trust her life to this stranger.

  He swung her forcibly behind him, jarring her, and startling her with the sudden man handling. Then she heard footsteps trailing behind them. Was her escape discovered? But the footfalls were not racing, but rather a slow, clomp-clomp, indicating a steady, unhurried walk. Not the frantic pace of someone in hot pursuit.

  She held her breath. What now? The footsteps reached the step where she and the soldier hid behind the wall for the next flight of stairs. Before whoever was walking could see him, the soldier effortlessly overtook the man in his arms, putting one arm around his neck, and the other on his torso. Then, without a sound, or a second’s hesitation, the man’s neck snapped and he crumbled to the ground on the stairwell. Again, with no hesitation, and not even a blink at the dead man, the soldier started up the stairs, gesturing for Jessie to follow.

  They climbed the stairs and went through another old door, which led to the top of the building. Once on top of the flattened, dusty roof, he started running, and seemed to know exactly where he wanted to go.

  All at once, he stopped, causing her to bump into his back. Before she understood what was happening, he threw her to the ground, and her head hit the concrete parapet that circled the roof, as her gun clattered out of reach. He was right on top of her. She struggled at first in confusion, when a wave of vertigo hit her. What the hell was he doing? He put his hand over her mouth, and pressed his knees into her legs, stilling her. She was completely pinned beneath the soldier. Panic filled her veins, then her brain, and her entire body. Oh God, not again. Did she just leave one hell for another?

  “We’ve been made. Do you get it? Quit struggling. I’m trying to save your fucking life.”

  She quit moving and instantly froze. Listening carefully, she could barely decipher what his supersonic hearing already detected: movement down below her. Muffled calls, and the stomping of boots on the ground. Language she recognized and heard during her captivity, but had no idea what it meant, was being bantered in frenzied calls. She whimpered in terror. It sounded like there was an entire army moving below her.

  “We can only survive as long as no one realizes I’m here.”

  She jerked at the soft curse whispered in her ear. Although she was up close to the soldier now, she couldn’t make out his features, he wore deep streaks of camo paint on his face. He literally looked to her like Rambo coming through the jungle. Except this wasn’t fake, and it wasn’t any movie, this was real, and happening to her. The guns were real. The knives were sharp. And men wanted to hurt her, even kill her. But why? Why her?

  The soldier was beginning to crush her with his belt full of knives, guns, and grenades. As far as she could tell, he was a one-man army. All of the weapons dug into her stomach, her thighs, and her chest. She couldn’t breathe, or see anything. Nothing. She was going to be sick, and all the while the yelling was coming closer.

  Her heart plummeted. They were searching the building.

  How long before they found her? She was lying on an unprotected corner of the rooftop. There was barely any cover. How long before the gallant soldier got off her and ran? No doubt, he could get away from here, especially if he were alone and unencumbered by her. He could probably repel off the building, or jump into the wind, or do some other super hero tactic. How long before she got dragged back into the black pit where they kept her? What more could they do to her? Maybe they’d just shoot her this time, and put her out of her misery.

  Tears streamed down her face si
lently. Forgotten. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. She almost welcomed her demise, which, she believed, was about to come. She couldn’t take it anymore: the fear, the terror, the brutality. At least, it would all end shortly. Her fear began choking her so intensely, the soldier might as well have wrapped his gloved hands around her neck and squeezed with all his might.

  But he wasn’t doing that. She was having a full-blown anxiety attack. The world spun, as her breath stopped, and she gasped for air. Everything felt wrong. So wrong, she couldn’t breathe, move, or see.

  “What the fuck?”

  She opened her eyes at the soldier’s unexpected, harsh curse. The soldier looked down between them, then back up at her. Comprehension sparked as his eyes widened. She just wet her pants. And his leg. He jerked back in surprise, before leaning over her again and sighing.

  “You’re scared. Of course, you’re scared,” he seemed to be speaking to himself. He slightly pulled back, as he grabbed something from his belt. “Listen to me now. They’ll have to go through me to get to you. I’m not that easy to kill. But if something happens, stay under me and pretend you’re dead. If anyone gets close enough, take this knife and plunge it into his neck. You hear me? As hard and deeply as you can. Then you take my guns, and the phone in my left pocket. Don’t forget the phone. Got it? There’s a door, about three hundred feet south, use the gun to blow the lock off. It will take you to the street. Then get out of here. Run. Hide. Call the number on the phone. You won’t be alone long.”

  Her body trembled, nearly convulsing. “I can’t. I mean, I couldn’t. I’m going to die here.”

  “You can and will because you have to. We’re not dying here.”