Shelter (Book One): A Mickey Bolitar Novel
Shelter: Chapter 25

WHEN MY EYES ADJUSTED to the dark, I saw a staircase leading down.

The dungeon, it seemed, was in the basement.

I shut the door behind me and started down the steps. When I reached the bottom, I stopped cold. Cigarette butts littered the floor—I thought about poor Candy’s arm and shivered—but that wasn’t what made me pull up in shock.

There, in the middle of a cinder-block room, tied to a chair, was Ashley.

Her back was to me, her arms bound behind her. I was about to move toward her when I heard a voice say, “I thought you’d been kidnapped, Ashley.”

It was Buddy Ray.

I leaned back into the dark of the stairwell, staying out of sight. I ducked low and peered out. Buddy Ray was in a corner of the room. He sat on a big tool chest closed with a padlock. He smiled at her and shook his head. He was, I couldn’t help but notice, smoking a cigarette.

He also had a knife in his hand.

“Now, I know you ran away from me,” Buddy Ray said, putting on a fake hurt voice. “How do you think that made me feel?”

“Let me go,” Ashley said.

“You ran away. So now you’ll have to be taught a lesson,” Buddy Ray said with that creepy voice of his. He stood up and stepped closer to her. “I need to make sure—very sure—that you never run away from me again.”

I stayed hunched in the dark, wondering what to do here. I was too far away to jump him. He had that knife and could probably call for help.

“It won’t do any good,” Ashley said in a voice that was oddly calm.

Buddy Ray tilted his head. “No?”

“No. Because no matter how much you hurt me, no matter what you do to me, I’ll run again.”

“And I’ll replace you again.”

“And I’ll run again. I don’t care if you cut off my legs with that knife. I will keep trying to escape. I don’t belong here.”

Buddy Ray laughed, shaking his head. “You’re wrong, my dear. So very wrong. What, do you think you belong in that happy little high school, wearing your little sweater, holding hands with your handsome new boyfriend? How do you think that new boyfriend would react if he knew the real you?”

That last remark hit home. I saw her stiffen. I wanted to shout out that it wouldn’t matter, that I couldn’t care less what her life had been before.

Buddy Ray spread his arms. “This is where you belong.”

Ashley raised her head and met his eye. “No.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Buddy Ray pointed at the tool chest behind him. “Do you know what’s in that chest over there?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, trying so hard to sound brave.

“Oh, it matters.” Buddy Ray showed her the blade in his hand. “You talk tough now.” He leaned in close so that his mouth was right by her ear. I tensed up, preparing to run and try . . . I don’t know . . . anything, if he touched her. Instead he dropped his voice to a whisper. “But I promise you, Ashley—I swear on all that is holy—that when I unlock that chest, when I’m done with you, you’ll beg me to let you stay here and work for me.”

He started walking back toward the tool chest.

My mouth was too dry to swallow. It was now or never. His back was turned. I was about to sprint out, about to make a move, when the door behind me, the one I had just gone through, began to open. I leaped back up the stairs behind it, replaceing the only hiding spot in the room.

Someone entered. “Boss?”

I couldn’t see anything. The door was almost pressed against me. If whoever had opened the door pushed back a little more, he would hit me square in the face.

“What?” Buddy Ray snapped. “I’m busy.”

“We kinda got a situation.”

I could hear the ruckus behind him.

“Can’t Derrick handle it?”

“No one knows where he is.”

I heard Buddy Ray sigh. “I won’t be long, princess,” he said.

No reply from Ashley.

Now I could hear him sprinting up the stairs. I closed my eyes, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t see me. He didn’t. He ran through the door, slamming it shut behind him.

I was alone with Ashley, but I was not about to sit there and consider the options. It was pretty simple: free Ashley, get out of here. I had no idea how long Buddy Ray would be gone. It could be just a few seconds.

I ran down to the dungeon. Ashley turned her head and gasped when she saw me. “Mickey?”

“We have to get you out of here.”

“How did you replace me?”

“No time for that now.”

Ashley started weeping. I rushed over to her chair, got down on one knee, and was ready to untie her. In the movies, this always seems to take mere seconds, doesn’t it? Like someone had tied up the person the same way you might tie a shoelace. But in real life, that wasn’t the case. It wasn’t the case at all.

Buddy Ray hadn’t tied her with rope. He had used plastic cuffs, wrapping them tightly around her wrists.

I had no idea what to do. I looked around the room for something to cut them with, but there was nothing.

“Mickey?”

“Hang on, I’m just trying to figure out how to free you.”

“You can’t,” she said, her voice defeated.

I didn’t listen to her. “Wriggle your hands,” I said. I tried to work the plastic with my fingers, pushing it down while she wriggled. There was absolutely no give.

“There’s no time,” she said. “You have to save yourself.”

“No,” I said.

“Mickey, he’ll be back any minute. Please go. He’ll just hurt me a little. He won’t want to damage the goods.”

I kept working at the plastic cuff. Useless. I ran over to his dreaded tool chest. I kicked the padlock, but it wouldn’t give. I looked for a crowbar—anything!—but the stark room was totally bare.

Damn!

I tried one more kick. There was no way the padlock was budging. I took out my cell phone. Enough. It was time to take the risk and dial 911.

“No!” Ashley shouted. “If he sees a cop car, he’ll just start killing people.”

It didn’t matter. I had no phone service in this cinder-block dungeon.

So now what?

Tick, tick, tick. How much longer would he be gone?

“Please, Mickey? Just listen to me, okay? There’s no time. You have to go. If he hurts you, if something happens to you, I’ll never be able to live with myself.”

I ran back over to her and took her face in my hands. Ashley looked at me with those beautiful, imploring eyes. “I won’t leave you,” I said to her. “Do you hear me? No matter. I won’t leave you with that monster.”

Tick, tick, tick.

Wait. The plastic cuff was too strong to break. The padlock was too strong to break.

But what about a wooden chair?

“Brace yourself,” I said.

“What?”

I kicked the leg of the chair. Nothing. I kicked it again. The leg started giving way. I kicked it again. The leg cracked. She was still trapped, but now maybe there was some wiggle room. If only we could move fast enough . . .

That was when I saw the door start to open.

Game over.

I knew what would happen now. Buddy Ray would see me. He would be armed with the knife. He would call behind him. Max and the other bouncers would join him as reinforcements.

We had no chance.

If you stopped and calculated the odds, there was no way to survive this.

So I didn’t stop or calculate. Instead I put my head down and charged the door.

I saw no other choice. I ran with as much speed as I could. I had never played American football, but Dad and I watched whenever we could figure out how to get a game on satellite. Dad loved the Jets, which, he said, taught him the meaning of disappointment. So right now, I channeled my inner linebacker blitzing the quarterback. I didn’t know if I would make it in time. I doubted I would. But I gave it everything I had.

Buddy Ray entered the room. He turned, saw me, and said, “What the . . . ?”

But that was all he said.

I crashed into him at full speed. I locked my arms around him, digging my head into his chest. We fell backward into the blue room. I raised my head a little, so now the top of my skull was under his chin. When we landed, my head pounded up into him. I could actually feel his teeth rattle and give way.

My head was still reeling from Derrick’s earlier attacks. Now the pain from my own blow was so great, I worried that I might pass out. But it had been worth it. Blood was leaking out of Buddy Ray’s mouth. The adrenaline helped push me through it. I made a fist and smashed into his mouth. The teeth that were already loosened gave way.

I pulled back for another punch, but I never got the chance to land it. Max, the bouncer who had been so close to me before, tackled me. He threw a knee into my rib cage. Flashes of light filled my head. It felt as though someone had just stabbed me in the lung. He reared back for another knee, the finisher, but suddenly I saw someone whack my attacker with what I later learned was the leg of a chair.

Ashley!

Max dropped off me as though he were a tree that had been chopped down. You almost wanted to shout, “Timber !” but there was no time. I rolled to my side and tried to get up, but my head was having none of it. I stood too quickly, the pain driving me back to my knees. Ashley tried to help me. I stumbled back.

“Lean on me!” Ashley shouted.

I didn’t want to. I wanted her to get out, just get through that fire door, but I knew that she wouldn’t listen. So I leaned on her. We took one step toward the door and then I felt a pain in my lower leg unlike anything I had ever felt before.

Buddy Ray was biting me!

I screamed and pulled away, leaving some of my skin behind. Another bouncer rounded the corner. Then another. A third came in. Max got to his feet.

The men quickly surrounded us in a circle. Ashley moved closer to me. I put a protective arm around her. Like that would do any good.

Buddy Ray staggered to his feet. He smiled at me through the blood and cracked teeth. “You,” he said to me, “are going to wish you were dead.”

I cringed as though I had given up. But I hadn’t. With my head down, I whispered in Ashley’s ear, “Follow me.”

Adrenaline is a funny thing. I’ve read where mothers can lift cars off their children because of it. I don’t know if that’s true. But I know that it kept the pain away. I know that maybe it gave me a little extra strength, maybe another inch on my vertical leap. Whatever.

I ran at Buddy Ray.

He thought that I was going to attack him again, try to tackle him to the ground, so he moved to the side.

That was what I wanted.

I ran right by him. Ashley was right on my back. Yes, this wouldn’t last long. The other men were already closing in. But I didn’t need much time. Just two more steps.

Just to the fire door.

I banged it open with my back, grabbing Ashley with my free arm and flinging her through it. I fell back too, trying to push the door closed, but by now the other men were there. They were trying to get out. I pushed, but I couldn’t hold it. No way.

And then Ema joined me. And Rachel. And Candy.

Other girls too. They pushed on the door, ten of them, maybe fifteen. They pushed on that door and held it firm and there was no way that anyone else was going to follow us out.

“Run!” Candy shouted at us. “We got this!”

“We all run,” I said. “You too.”

But Candy just looked at me and shook her head. “It doesn’t work that way, Mickey.”

“What?”

“You can’t save us all.”

There was a strange truth in that. I wondered about Juan, about how he chose to save Ashley and not Candy, but there was no time for that. We had to move.

In the distance I heard police cars. The commotion must have gotten their attention. They’d be here any second. A few girls scattered. I met Rachel’s eye. She was with Ashley. I looked for Ema, but I didn’t see her.

“We all run,” I shouted again to the girls. “All of us at the same time.”

And then a voice—a voice with that horrible little lisp, a voice that chilled me like no other—said, “Oh, I don’t think so.”

Everything stopped then. Nobody moved. It was as if the very buildings—this very alley—were suddenly holding their breath. I broke through the paralysis. I let go of the door and swiveled my head to the left.

Buddy Ray had a knife on Ema.

My heart leaped to my throat. The sirens were getting closer.

“Let her go,” I said.

Buddy Ray just smiled at me. If the cracked teeth or blood was bothering him, he didn’t show it. The smile had nothing behind it. No mirth, no joy, no soul. It was the scariest smile I had ever seen.

“The cops are on their way,” I said. “They’ll go easier on you if you let her go.”

Buddy Ray laughed. “Who said I wanted it easier?”

I didn’t know what to say. I was too far away to make a move. He put the knife on Ema’s neck. Ema closed her eyes. Tears ran down her cheek. “Please . . . ,” she said.

“You took something that belonged to me,” Buddy Ray said, looking directly at me. “Now I’m going to take something that belongs to you.”

“Don’t,” I said, my voice sounding so weak, so defeated. “If you want to get back at someone, get back at me.” I raised my hands and walked toward him. “Take me instead.”

I risked another step. I was still at least ten yards away. We locked eyes, Buddy Ray and me, and when I saw them, when I really took a good hard look into his eyes, my heart crumbled to dust.

Ema was doomed.

There was no reasoning here. There was no action I could take. It didn’t matter that the cops were bearing down on him. For a moment, there was only him and me—and I had no doubt what he’d do next.

He was going to kill Ema.

He was going to kill her just to see my face when he did it. I couldn’t talk him out of it. I couldn’t reach him in time. I was here, on the edge of victory, and so he would take Ema away from me.

It was like Buddy Ray knew it all already. I had lost my father. I was losing my mother. And now, when I finally found a real friend, I would lose her too.

He moved the knife closer to her throat. Ema squirmed, but he held her firm.

“Say good-bye,” Buddy Ray said.

And then, when all hope seemed lost, with my eyes locked on Buddy Ray’s—boom, a small truck plowed into Buddy Ray.

My mouth dropped open.

One moment Buddy Ray was standing there with a knife in his hand. The next, he was flying across the alley on the hood of a small truck.

A familiar truck.

One I’d seen once before.

A small truck with a crossed mop-head logo on the side.

As the sirens surrounded us, as the cop cars came braking to a halt, the driver’s door opened, and Spoon emerged.

He pushed up his glasses, looked at the still man on the hood of the truck, and said, “Man, I really gotta learn how to drive.”

Ema had called Spoon when she couldn’t reach me.

“I figured maybe he could at least pick us up,” she said.

I hugged her for a very long time. Rachel came over and joined us. Spoon came over too.

Police cars kept pouring in. I saw Tyrell’s father arrive. My uncle Myron was there too. The Ford Taurus, I remembered now, had a GPS unit in it. Myron was able to get the coordinates. He just got them a little too late.

An ambulance came for Buddy Ray. He would live, but the girls were all talking to the police now. There would be charges. He wouldn’t be free for a very long time.

With Rachel on my right and Ema on my left, I looked down the block and spotted Ashley in the distance. She was getting into Juan’s van. Juan held the door open for her. Ashley looked back at me one last time and smiled. I smiled back, but there was no joy in it. Juan nodded at me. Ashley vanished into the back of the van, and as she did, I think that we both realized that we would never see each other again.

At least, that was how it felt.

I looked at Rachel. She nodded at me. Ema gave me a brave smile. Spoon wasn’t sure what to do. We shared looks. My friends, I thought. The only real friends I’ve ever had. And yet, somehow, I knew that they were much more, that this would not be the last time we would stand together like this.

I felt overwhelmed. We all moved closer together in an almost protective cluster, looking out now as one.

“Guess what,” Spoon said to me.

I swallowed hard. “What, Spoon?”

“George Washington was sterile.”