The Devil_s Garden

TWENTY-FIVE

Something was wrong. The two green lights on the right side were dark. Abby tapped out the panic code anyway. Twice. Nothing happened. She banged on the panel. The sound seemed to resonate throughout the house.

Nothing. No flashing lights. No response of any kind.

“I am disappointed,” came the voice from behind her. She spun around. Aleks was standing just a few feet away. She had not heard him come down the stairs.

Aleks descended fully into the foyer. He opened his shoulder bag, pulled out rope and duct tape.

“Unfortunately,” Aleks said, “many of the American home-security systems run on telephone lines. If there is a large storm, or for any other reason the telephone service is interrupted, so too is the connection to the security firm’s center.” He held up a pair of clippers. It seems he had cut the phone line before they had entered. “I told you no harm would come to you or family if you did exactly what I said. I am a man who does not like to repeat himself.”

He crossed the foyer in a blur, lifted Abby in the air, as if she were weightless. He carried her across the foyer, down the stairs, into the basement. He placed her onto an old metal folding chair. His physical strength was terrifying.

“No,” Abby said. She did not fight him. “You don’t have to do this. I’m sorry.”

In moments Aleks had her arms and legs bound to the chair.

Abby did not struggle. She tried to fight the tears.

She lost.

Aleks watched the girls through the basement window. His face was unreadable, but Abby scanned his pale-blue eyes as he followed Charlotte and Emily swing on the swing set. His expression seemed to be one of deep longing.

His friend – his accomplice, Abby reminded herself – had left. The girls seemed to be okay, but every so often they would glance at the house. They were bright, intuitive children, wise far beyond their years, and Abby was certain that they knew something was wrong, despite her assurances that the men called Aleks and Kolya were friends of the family.

They are my daughters.

Abby’s stomach turned at the thought. As she stared at the man’s profile, there was no doubt in her mind that it was true. This man was Charlotte and Emily’s biological father. She didn’t want to believe it, but it was undoubtedly true.

She found herself wishing it was all about something else, that it was some sort of a home-invasion robbery, and that these men were there seeking ransom, or jewels, or cash. These things she understood, and was willing to relinquish in a second if it meant keeping her family safe.

But one question loomed large. How did this man know where they lived and who they were? How had he found them?

Abby’s worst nightmare was rapidly becoming a reality. He wasn’t here to see his daughters. He wasn’t here to merely establish contact, or a bond.

He was here to take them back.

Aleks leaned close to her ear. When he leaned over, Abby saw something sparkle, catching the light, something hanging on a chain around his neck. On the chain were three small crystal vials. One of them held what appeared to be blood, with small bits of what might be flesh suspended in the deep-red liquid. The other two were empty. The dark possibilities made Abby sick.

Aleks whispered: “If you disobey me one more time, I will kill you in front of the girls.”

Abby struggled against the ropes and duct tape. She could not move. Her tears coursed down her cheeks.

Without another word Aleks climbed the steps, opened the door, and closed it behind him.