Alone

Chapter 3

Chloe

I am still half-asleep when the cabin comes into view, just aware enough to meet Riley's quick glance as we coast toward the cabin. The mixture of apprehension and hope on her face makes the guilt surround me again, although I don't think my lying made any difference in the long run. When the Bronco finally bumps to a stop at the front door, the man in the passenger seat jumps out and comes back to open the doors for us. The driver, Peter's dad, climbs out more slowly and starts for the door. I am relieved by the lack of guns, but Riley looks nervous. With Peter in the lead, we head for the cabin door through the crystalline cold. I can see Riley looking around for a way out, like I've seen her do everywhere we go, but although we are out in the open and the man behind us doesn't have his gun out, she walks silently behind Peter. The inside of the small cabin is dark, and we all stop just inside to let our eyes adjust. The room is small, unfinished log walls rising to a low ceiling above us. A ladder starts off to our right, a couple feet away from a small woodstove. A wooden table and four chairs sit in the middle of the room, and two twin beds stand end to end against the opposite wall. Peter's dad is leaning against the cupboard beside the stove, watching us as we look around. Contrary to the dilapidated exterior of the house, the inside is neat and clean. There is no dust on the furniture or the nearby ladder, and the two windows are clean and shining. Peter steps across the room, and I hesitate a moment before I see his dad waving us toward the table. For the first time, Peter's dad speaks directly to us. "You will be fine. We will contact your families and they will give us what we ask for." Suddenly, the so-far-quiet Riley slams a fist on the table and speaks, despite the warning looks Peter is shooting at her. "What did you do, memorize your lines out of some movie?! My dad isn't going to pay you anything for me. You should have asked for money to take me instead!" I am sitting with my back halfway to Peter's dad, so I see Riley flinching before I see the man moving. She turns her head when he slaps her, but even so, the force of the blow nearly knocks her out of her chair. Peter, sitting beside her, is leaning the other way as far as possible without attracting unwanted attention. Riley sits up straight and looks the man right in the eye, but I can see the fear in her face and how tense she is. Suddenly, I know for sure that I am the only one at this table who is truly shocked by the slap. In fact, I think I would still be the only one shocked if the man grabbed a skillet off the cupboard behind him and whacked her upside the head with it. When he speaks again, Peter's dad has lost his movie-inspired calm and is flat-out yelling. "You better learn to watch your mouth, girl! Hasn't anybody ever taught you to respect your elders?" Everyone is silent for a minute, before Riley realizes that the question is not rhetorical. "Yes sir, I know. I'm sorry." I see Peter relax a little, but a curious expression creeps across his face for a minute as he glances sideways at her. Peter's dad nods shortly, proof that Riley has answered correctly. "You can call me Joe, and the guy by the door is Tom. You will stay in the loft with Peter, who will keep an eye on you." The last sentence is directed at Peter, who keeps his eyes on the table. Joe goes back out to the Bronco and returns a moment later with a pencil and pad of paper. He sits down in the chair beside me, causing me to lean away, and sets the paper on the table before asking for our phone numbers. When he has all the numbers written down and labeled, he pulls out a cell phone and dials. The table is so small that we can hear both sides of each conversation. Joe pulls out his gun and aims it at Riley to keep us from adding our own input. He dials my father first, but the voice that answers on the other end is unfamiliar. "Hello, Mayor Pierson's residence." Peter, Joe and Riley all turn to look at me as Joe speaks. "I have Chloe Pierson. You can get her back for a million bucks. I'll call back with instructions." Without waiting for the stranger to speak, Joe hangs up. He dials Riley's home number next, and she leans forward to hear better, guarded hope in her eyes. The phone rings a half a dozen times before someone picks it up with a gruff, short "Hello". Riley freezes. Joe speaks immediately. "I have your daughter. You can get her back for fifty grand. I will call back with instructions." Before Joe can hang up, the voice on the other end speaks again, loud and angry enough to give Joe a run for his money.