My head smacks against something hard as the car pulls to an abrupt stop, making me see stars. I’m hauled up again and dragged outside. I whimper as the hood is whipped off and sunlight blinds me. The Crocodile smacks a piece of duct tape roughly over my mouth, hissing a warning in my ear.
“You make so much as a move I don’t like out there, Finny boy, and I’ll kill you, understand?”
I nod as best I can, whimpering again as he presses the barrel of a gun to my bruised side, unable to cry out. He forces me to walk in front of him, keeping a tight hold of my collar. Up ahead I can make out a familiar black car, and a figure standing by it. I can’t see her face from this far away, but it doesn’t matter. I know who it is. And all I want right now is to run to her, to let her hold me tight like she used to when I was little. I want my mother so badly it hurts as much as my broken rib. But the Crocodile knows better than to let that happen. He hauls me roughly to a stop, snarling.
“One of my men will take the money! Give it to him or the boy dies!” He shouts, moving the gun to my temple. I can almost hear her gasp, see her clutching at her neck, like she always does when she’s nervous. We’re so close and still so far.
The Crocodile’s plan seems to be working. She hands two huge black bags to one of his goons, and the man struggles to carry them back to his master, dropping them at his feet.
“Open them. Count the bills.” He orders. There’s a note to his voice I haven’t heard before. It’s greed, the breathless anticipation of being so rich. The hand holding the gun is trembling with eagerness. All I can do is pray he won’t accidentally pull the trigger.
His man obeys, gasping in delight as wads and wads of neatly piled green bills appear, the heat making them shimmer strangely. They’re so caught up in staring at the money they don’t notice what I do. By the time they glance up, it’s too late. Policemen in black uniforms are swarming out of crevices like ants, choppers are everywhere. The grip on my collar vanishes and I panic, dropping to the ground as gunshots and screams fill the air. I’m aware faintly that my leg is in terrible pain. I reach down hesitantly, my fingers coming away wet with blood. After that everything happens too quickly for conscious thought. My mind goes completely blank as people rush around me. I don’t remember the rest. I think I pass out at some point, waking up in the ambulance with my mother crying over me. Next come bright lights, doctors yelling incoherently to each other, and something plastic is put over my face. Then darkness again.
Something soft brushes over my forehead, bringing me back to consciousness. It hurts to do it, but I smile, not opening my eyes yet. There’s something familiar about the voice that calls my name, but it can’t be. I don’t dare believe it just yet.
“I know you’re awake, Finn. You’re not fooling anyone.”
I open one eye a crack, hardly daring to believe what I’m seeing.
“Amy?” I whisper, turning my head toward her. She grins.
“Who else, stupid? How you feeling?”
“Like I just got run over by a semi filled with bricks. What ‘bout you? You look pretty good for someone who’s supposed to be dead.”
She laughs, her grin stretching the large purple bruise on her cheek.
“I’ve been in the hospital longer than you. Almost a week now. Still hooked to a tube, see?” she shows me her arm and the wheeled drip attached to it. “And I almost did die. Crocodile man left me by the side of the road, or so I’m told. I got lucky. A guy passing by saw me and brought me home. You’re not doing too well though. He beat you up pretty badly, and then you got yourself shot in the leg somehow. You were in surgery for over an hour yesterday. Only your parents were allowed to come see you. They just let me in because apparently you woke up when they were pulling the bullet out of your leg and you were screaming your head off that you wanted to see me. So here we are.” She explains. I can feel my face heating up. I don’t remember any of that. For all I know she could be making it up. I change the subject quickly.
“So … they caught him, then? The Crocodile. He’s in jail?” An uncontrollable panic rises in my chest at the thought that he might still be loose and out for revenge. Amy shakes her head, lacing her fingers through mine.
“Not exactly. He was killed during the exchange. If he hadn’t gone back for the cash, he might have gotten away. They got all the others. The trial’s in a few weeks, whenever we both feel up to testifying. You should’ve seen how relieved the cops were that I didn’t have Stockholm syndrome.”
I chuckle weakly, relaxing.
“Yeah, well, he made it a bit hard for that ever to happen, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, yeah he did!”
We both burst into nervous laughter. A nurse comes in to see what all the noise is about. I protest vehemently as she tries to shoo Amy out, saying something about my needing to rest.
“I’m fine! I want her here! I’m resting, I swear!”
My rib betrays me though and my face screws up in pain as it gives a twinge, annoyed by all my moving around.
“It’s ok, Finn. I’ll come back in a little while, alright? My room’s just down the hall.” She promises, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. I nod, calming down. Knowing she’s close helps, and I let the nurse lead her out without a fuss. After a while, I drift off into a deep, drug induced sleep. It’s so good to be safe at last. I’m never doing anything stupid ever again.
EPILOGUE
Finn limped away from the well-tended path, cutting across the grass. He grimaced, rubbing his side as his rib gave a painful spasm. Even over a year later, it still hurt. His leg hadn’t healed well either, and he had to put up with people asking him every day why he couldn’t walk well. College hadn’t been a good idea. His parents had been against it from the start. They thought him too fragile still to leave home. True he’d lost it for a while after Amy had moved away, refusing all human contact and denying there even was such a thing as the outdoors, but he was alright now. Better, anyway. There were still the nightmares to deal with, and not blowing up at the idiots who claimed he’d made up the whole ‘kidnapped thing’ to get attention. The shrink had called it Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. He called it Idiocy Syndrome, which had earned him another couple months of therapy.
Getting away from people like that was what had prompted him to go out of state. Here at least he only got asked about it once a month or so. A few times a week for his leg, but he could cope with that, he supposed. At least he didn’t have his mother hovering protectively over his every move. If she knew he hadn’t kept his promise about keeping in touch with a therapist she’d kill him.
“You’re taller.” A voice called from behind him, jerking him to a stop. He turned slowly. There she was, standing leaning against a tree as though she’d just been waiting for him to show up. She hadn’t changed much. Her hair was longer, and there was a sadness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Other than that she was still the girl he remembered, the girl he’d clutched in his arms as the burning canyon sun beat down on them, convinced they were going to die.
“Hey Amy.” He said softly. He’d missed her. They hadn’t seen each other since the hospital. Her parents had whisked her away to some other state as quickly as possible. People had assumed they wouldn’t want to see each other again, that it would only add to the trauma. Idiocy Syndrome again.
He dug his hands in his pockets, feeling suddenly awkward. She was the only one who knew the details of what had happened. He’d refused to talk about it with anyone else. The memories were still too fresh.
“How’ve you-”
She didn’t give him time to finish the question. Before he knew quite what had happened, her arms were around his neck, her lips on his.
“I missed you.” She murmured, grinning. Finn held her close, pressing his forehead to hers. For the first time in months, his smile was genuine. He leaned close to her ear, whispering three little words softly, so softly that not even the breeze could carry them away. Amy leaned her head against his chest, closing her eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. He had to strain to hear her reply, so faint was it. When he did, it erased every nightmare, every pain in his side. Four words to his three that warmed him and made his heart beat faster.
“I love you too.”
The End
“You make so much as a move I don’t like out there, Finny boy, and I’ll kill you, understand?”
I nod as best I can, whimpering again as he presses the barrel of a gun to my bruised side, unable to cry out. He forces me to walk in front of him, keeping a tight hold of my collar. Up ahead I can make out a familiar black car, and a figure standing by it. I can’t see her face from this far away, but it doesn’t matter. I know who it is. And all I want right now is to run to her, to let her hold me tight like she used to when I was little. I want my mother so badly it hurts as much as my broken rib. But the Crocodile knows better than to let that happen. He hauls me roughly to a stop, snarling.
“One of my men will take the money! Give it to him or the boy dies!” He shouts, moving the gun to my temple. I can almost hear her gasp, see her clutching at her neck, like she always does when she’s nervous. We’re so close and still so far.
The Crocodile’s plan seems to be working. She hands two huge black bags to one of his goons, and the man struggles to carry them back to his master, dropping them at his feet.
“Open them. Count the bills.” He orders. There’s a note to his voice I haven’t heard before. It’s greed, the breathless anticipation of being so rich. The hand holding the gun is trembling with eagerness. All I can do is pray he won’t accidentally pull the trigger.
His man obeys, gasping in delight as wads and wads of neatly piled green bills appear, the heat making them shimmer strangely. They’re so caught up in staring at the money they don’t notice what I do. By the time they glance up, it’s too late. Policemen in black uniforms are swarming out of crevices like ants, choppers are everywhere. The grip on my collar vanishes and I panic, dropping to the ground as gunshots and screams fill the air. I’m aware faintly that my leg is in terrible pain. I reach down hesitantly, my fingers coming away wet with blood. After that everything happens too quickly for conscious thought. My mind goes completely blank as people rush around me. I don’t remember the rest. I think I pass out at some point, waking up in the ambulance with my mother crying over me. Next come bright lights, doctors yelling incoherently to each other, and something plastic is put over my face. Then darkness again.
Something soft brushes over my forehead, bringing me back to consciousness. It hurts to do it, but I smile, not opening my eyes yet. There’s something familiar about the voice that calls my name, but it can’t be. I don’t dare believe it just yet.
“I know you’re awake, Finn. You’re not fooling anyone.”
I open one eye a crack, hardly daring to believe what I’m seeing.
“Amy?” I whisper, turning my head toward her. She grins.
“Who else, stupid? How you feeling?”
“Like I just got run over by a semi filled with bricks. What ‘bout you? You look pretty good for someone who’s supposed to be dead.”
She laughs, her grin stretching the large purple bruise on her cheek.
“I’ve been in the hospital longer than you. Almost a week now. Still hooked to a tube, see?” she shows me her arm and the wheeled drip attached to it. “And I almost did die. Crocodile man left me by the side of the road, or so I’m told. I got lucky. A guy passing by saw me and brought me home. You’re not doing too well though. He beat you up pretty badly, and then you got yourself shot in the leg somehow. You were in surgery for over an hour yesterday. Only your parents were allowed to come see you. They just let me in because apparently you woke up when they were pulling the bullet out of your leg and you were screaming your head off that you wanted to see me. So here we are.” She explains. I can feel my face heating up. I don’t remember any of that. For all I know she could be making it up. I change the subject quickly.
“So … they caught him, then? The Crocodile. He’s in jail?” An uncontrollable panic rises in my chest at the thought that he might still be loose and out for revenge. Amy shakes her head, lacing her fingers through mine.
“Not exactly. He was killed during the exchange. If he hadn’t gone back for the cash, he might have gotten away. They got all the others. The trial’s in a few weeks, whenever we both feel up to testifying. You should’ve seen how relieved the cops were that I didn’t have Stockholm syndrome.”
I chuckle weakly, relaxing.
“Yeah, well, he made it a bit hard for that ever to happen, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, yeah he did!”
We both burst into nervous laughter. A nurse comes in to see what all the noise is about. I protest vehemently as she tries to shoo Amy out, saying something about my needing to rest.
“I’m fine! I want her here! I’m resting, I swear!”
My rib betrays me though and my face screws up in pain as it gives a twinge, annoyed by all my moving around.
“It’s ok, Finn. I’ll come back in a little while, alright? My room’s just down the hall.” She promises, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. I nod, calming down. Knowing she’s close helps, and I let the nurse lead her out without a fuss. After a while, I drift off into a deep, drug induced sleep. It’s so good to be safe at last. I’m never doing anything stupid ever again.
EPILOGUE
Finn limped away from the well-tended path, cutting across the grass. He grimaced, rubbing his side as his rib gave a painful spasm. Even over a year later, it still hurt. His leg hadn’t healed well either, and he had to put up with people asking him every day why he couldn’t walk well. College hadn’t been a good idea. His parents had been against it from the start. They thought him too fragile still to leave home. True he’d lost it for a while after Amy had moved away, refusing all human contact and denying there even was such a thing as the outdoors, but he was alright now. Better, anyway. There were still the nightmares to deal with, and not blowing up at the idiots who claimed he’d made up the whole ‘kidnapped thing’ to get attention. The shrink had called it Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. He called it Idiocy Syndrome, which had earned him another couple months of therapy.
Getting away from people like that was what had prompted him to go out of state. Here at least he only got asked about it once a month or so. A few times a week for his leg, but he could cope with that, he supposed. At least he didn’t have his mother hovering protectively over his every move. If she knew he hadn’t kept his promise about keeping in touch with a therapist she’d kill him.
“You’re taller.” A voice called from behind him, jerking him to a stop. He turned slowly. There she was, standing leaning against a tree as though she’d just been waiting for him to show up. She hadn’t changed much. Her hair was longer, and there was a sadness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Other than that she was still the girl he remembered, the girl he’d clutched in his arms as the burning canyon sun beat down on them, convinced they were going to die.
“Hey Amy.” He said softly. He’d missed her. They hadn’t seen each other since the hospital. Her parents had whisked her away to some other state as quickly as possible. People had assumed they wouldn’t want to see each other again, that it would only add to the trauma. Idiocy Syndrome again.
He dug his hands in his pockets, feeling suddenly awkward. She was the only one who knew the details of what had happened. He’d refused to talk about it with anyone else. The memories were still too fresh.
“How’ve you-”
She didn’t give him time to finish the question. Before he knew quite what had happened, her arms were around his neck, her lips on his.
“I missed you.” She murmured, grinning. Finn held her close, pressing his forehead to hers. For the first time in months, his smile was genuine. He leaned close to her ear, whispering three little words softly, so softly that not even the breeze could carry them away. Amy leaned her head against his chest, closing her eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. He had to strain to hear her reply, so faint was it. When he did, it erased every nightmare, every pain in his side. Four words to his three that warmed him and made his heart beat faster.
“I love you too.”
The End