Save Me

Chapter Seventy-five

Rose regained consciousness, groggy. She opened her eyes. She lay slumped in the driver’s seat of the van. Her left cheek was killing her. She was alone. She came alive with one thought.

Eileen.

She boosted herself up in the seat and spotted a commotion at the entrance of the conference center. Two Homestead security guards were struggling to put Eileen into the security sedan. One clapped a hand over Eileen’s mouth, and the other held her flailing arms, and they succeeded in getting her into the backseat and slamming the door closed.

Oh my God.

Rose looked to the right. Inside the conference center, the party continued as if nothing had happened. Oblivious, the guests filled the banquet tables, all of their attention on the dais, where Senator Martin was talking at the podium in front of the Homestead executives.

Rose looked back, aghast, as one security guard bolted to the driver’s seat and the other hustled back to the entrance. The sedan emitted a plume of exhaust and steered smoothly to the left, then turned around and drove toward the access road.

Rose ducked down in the seat as it slid past, her heart hammering. If she got out of the van and screamed, they’d come and take her away, like Eileen. She didn’t have a phone to call anybody. Her only advantage was that the security guards didn’t know she was here, though they’d come looking for Eileen’s van, later. If they killed Eileen, they wouldn’t leave her van behind. They wouldn’t leave any evidence. They hadn’t, before.

Rose checked the ignition, and the keys were still there, hanging. She’d be ready to follow the sedan if it left the campus; but it drove up the access road, took the exit to the main plant, and vanished inside. It was as if the building had swallowed the sedan whole, with Eileen inside.

Rose cracked the door, crept out of the van, left the door open, and walked to the bumper in a crouch. She reached the end of the van and checked the entrance. The security guard remained out front, and a smoker had returned, lighting up. Neither was looking her way.

She took a deep breath and darted across the aisle to the next block of parked cars, still in a crouch. Then waited, catching her breath. The main plant was on the hill, and behind it, on the left side, where the sedan had gone in, was a loading dock, a paved area with huge tractor-trailers parked all around. One of the bays was open, making a rectangle of bright light, but there didn’t appear to be any activity there.

She bolted ahead to the next block of cars, and ducked behind them, catching her breath. Her heart started to hammer from exertion and fear. She was a mom, not an action hero. Then she realized something:

Every mom is an action hero.

She ran ahead to the next block, then the next, with only one last set of parked cars between her and edge of the lot. She glanced around the sleek bumper of a Jaguar and checked the entrance. The guard and the smoker were still at the entrance. She ran to the next block of cars, then sized up the hillside ahead. Her knees were killing her, her heart was pumping. She’d be exposed while she ran up the grass to the plant, but she had no choice.

Go, go, go.

She tore up the incline, trying to stay low, but then gave up and ran as hard as she could up the hill. Her breath came in ragged bursts. Her heart thundered in her chest.

She dropped behind the first tractor-trailer she saw, then darted between two other trucks parked together. Bright security lights were mounted along the top of the plant, but there was nobody around outside. Still, she’d have to stay out of sight. She didn’t hear any sirens or sounds, and it made her stronger, emboldening her.

She peeked around the front of the truck, trying to figure out her next move. The trucks were parked at the loading docks, cab fronts facing out, and there were four trucks in all; the lighted bay was to the far right, and she had to go left.

She ran from one cab to the next, just as she had with the parked cars, until she raced to the end of the plant, then flattened herself against the building. She could hear the noise of the machinery and feel its vibration against her back. She heard no other sound, so she peeked around the corner.

No one was around. Ahead lay more paved area, and lights mounted on the roofline shone ellipses onto the dry asphalt. It was the back of the plant, and there were no trucks or other vehicles. The building was a stretch of rough, white-painted cinderblock, with no window or door. A third of the way up, there was a break in the wall where she thought the white security sedan had gone.

Go!

She tore along the side of the plant until she got to the break in the wall, then stopped. There was no sound of people talking or cars running, so she peered around the side. The white security sedan sat parked inside a small U-shaped bay lined with blue recycling bins, galvanized cans, and flattened cardboard boxes. No one was inside the car or in sight. The bay had three doors, all painted yellow, none signed. One had to lead to the security office, where Eileen must have been taken, but Rose didn’t know which one.

She felt stumped, momentarily. She couldn’t remember enough from the factory tour to orient herself. She’d gotten turned around because she’d approached the plant from the back. All she could remember was that the security office was along a hall with the other offices, in the middle of the building.

“You have to be kidding me,” said a man, from behind.