Text (Take It Off #4)(7)
Author: Cambria Hebert

A few minutes later, the basement door opened and Lex came into the room carrying two paper sacks, which he set on top of the bar. A series of “heys” and “what ups” sounded around the room.

“Beer’s here!” Patton called and elbowed me.

I grinned and laid my cards facedown on the table. “No peaking,” I told him.

He snorted and started talking smack. “Please. Your mom could play a better hand than you.”

I grinned because he was right.

Lex was pulling out a case of Miller Light from the bag as I approached. “Thanks, man,” I said, reaching in to grab one.

“Sorry I’m late. Traffic was a bitch and the liquor store was packed.”

“No worries,” I said, popping the top and letting the beer flood my mouth. Ahhhhh.

Lex grabbed a beer and chugged about half the can in one gulp. I eyed him. He seemed a little fidgety, not quite as steady as he usually was. He was usually more friendly, more prone to smile.

“Everything okay?” I asked him.

“Hmm?” he said, pulling the beer away from his lips. “Yeah, totally. Long day at work is all.”

“I hear that,” I said and saluted him with my beer. “TGIF.”

Lex grinned. “Deal me in!” he called, and then we both went over to the table to start the game.

I completely forgot about the text I sent him…

Until a few moments later when I got a reply.

7

Honor

The sound of beeping woke me. I jerked awake, blinking against the dark as reality came crashing over me. I scrambled to my feet, looking up toward the top of the hole. The sun was no longer in the sky. It was dark. It was night. I was in the center of the woods.

Even down in this hole, I could hear the wildlife singing in the night. I heard the rustling of leaves and wondered what was up there, praying it wasn’t him.

The beeping sound cut through the darkness again, and I noticed how the screen on the phone illuminated the hole, casting a bluish tone over everything.

It was a text.

My knees sagged in relief, and I felt my lower lip wobble. Finally, I would be able to get help. I glanced at the screen, hungry for contact with the outside world. There was no name for the person texting, only a number. The area code was one I didn’t recognize.

You’re late. U coming?

I had no idea what kind of person my kidnapper could be friends with, but right about now I’d take my chances with anyone.

Please help me.

The signal was still very low and it took the text forever to send. It took so long that I began to lose hope. I began to think it wouldn’t go through. But then the phone made a little whooshing sound and the message posted.

It took even longer for the person to reply than it did for the message to send. I waited, clutching the phone, praying I would get an answer.

What’s wrong? Shitty hand?

I was kidnapped by the owner of this phone. Plz help me. Call 911.

That’s a sick joke.

I’m not jkin! I swear! I typed furiously. My stomach churned. What if this person thought I was just pulling a prank? What if they thought the man who owned this phone was being funny.

I swiped an angry tear off my cheek and cleared out of the texting screen to pull up the keypad and dial 9-1-1. The phone rang.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” said a calm voice over the line.

I gasped, so grateful it worked.

“State your emergency.”

“My name is Honor Calhoun. I’ve been kidnapped. I’m being held against my will.”

“What is your location?”

I’m sorry, but I was offended. She didn’t gasp in outrage. She didn’t ask me if I was okay. She was like a damn robot on the other end of the line, asking me to take some stupid survey about orange juice or vitamins.

Hell-O! I wanted to scream. Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?

But I didn’t. Instead, I replied, “I have no idea. I’m in the woods. In a hole in the ground.”

The operator paused. I figured that was the biggest “Oh shit!” reaction I was going to get. I could hear her clicking away on a computer and I imagined her assembling the cavalry, riling the troops.

Go save Honor!

I’m a writer. I’m dramatic. Let’s all move on.

“Stay on the line while we try to locate your phone,” the woman said. Clearly, she never wrote a thing. She probably didn’t even like to read.

Ring. Ring.

Hello?

I’ve been kidnapped. Someone wants to kill me!

Hold please.

I’d get better service at McDonald’s.

“Listen to me,” I said, ignoring her. “I’m in the woods. I’m scared. My name is Honor Calhoun. I live on Main Street in Slatington. Please come find me. Send help.”

“Hello?” the operator said. For the first time, emotion showed in her voice. “Ar… you… th…?” Her words broke up, the connection failing.

I gripped the phone tightly, suddenly sorry I made fun of her voice. She was the only one who could help me.

“Please,” I whispered, my voice cracking.

“We’ll do every…. we can—” the woman said, but her words were cut off when the phone lost its signal.

I groaned in frustration and pulled the phone away from my ear. I glanced down. Less than half the battery remained.

I thought about calling back. I knew it would probably be useless. Maybe in a few minutes whatever signal was out there would come back. Maybe she heard enough of what I said. Hopefully she got my name. She wouldn’t forget about me. It was her job to help.

Right?

If I couldn’t depend on someone else, then it was up to me to get myself out of here. I tucked the phone into the pocket of my jacket and looked up. The sky was utterly dark. With all the trees above, I couldn’t even see the moon or any stars. I could barely see two inches in front of me.

Waiting until morning to at least try to get out of here wasn’t an option.

I walked over to the wall and laid my palm against the loose, moist dirt. It crumbled slightly beneath my touch. I pushed harder against it, satisfied when it packed down. Using the toe of my right foot, I drove it into the side, kicking a little, trying to delve my foot in and catch hold. When part of my foot was solidly encased in dirt, I reached above my head and forced my fingers into the earth.

I started to climb.

I took my left foot and brought it up, trying to drive it into the side just a little higher than the right. It was more difficult than I hoped. I fell several times. Each time I got a little more desperate; each time I got a little more tired.