Fury

Adam

"Hello?" I watched anxiously as mom picked up the phone. Her brow furrowed as she listened. "Thanks." She said tersely. The receiver clicked down.

"Adam. Someone recognized the drawing." She said quietly, like if she spoke above a whisper, it might not be true. "His name is Kyle Jordan. They've put out a notice. They're sending SWAT to his house now." Her eyes were brimming with tears. "It's not a sure thing, but it's the best lead they've got. I just hope we're not too late."

I closed the distance between us, falling into her arms. My eyes were hot and wet and my chest ached with fear and relief and anticipation. We would know soon if Julie was safe.

Kyle

Locked in the silent struggle, the serpent must swallow or die trying. There was no going back. For me, too, there was no going back.

Something was very, very wrong. My body lay flat on the cold concrete. My thoughts shattered. Moving was like dreaming in quicksand. My lungs were like fish drying in the afternoon sun. And all I could see was her dark, demon eyes.

Johnson

"The girl's safety is our utmost priority. Harry, you take your team around the back. We'll go through the front."

The shack was nearly overgrown with vines, but it was definitely not abandoned. The sounds of some perpetual rerun were coming from the living room -- presumably -- and turned up loud like someone was hard of hearing. Or trying to cover something up.

"On my command." Johnson heard the voice in her ear. Her fingers gripped the rifle with an unusual ferocity. She had been on rescue missions before. But not in her hometown. Not with a child.

Julie

His body lay broken before me like a Barbie playdate gone wrong. I was shaking so hard I could barely move, but I could taste my freedom just across that threshold.

He was breathing, and his eyes were open. But those were the only signs of life. My wrists were on fire, but I had survived wrapping my arms around his neck like he was the only thing stopping me from falling off a cliff. And my brain had survived the sick snap I heard as he tripped out of my arms, over the bed, and into the wall.

But my body would not survive this. Because I had searched him, and the keys to my chains were nowhere to be found. And the bed? That was bolted to the fucking floor.

With nothing else to do, I picked up the splattered remains of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich that he had brought, sat my ass back down on the urine soaked bed, and waited to die in this stupid, stupid dungeon.

Johnson

The house was clear. Or, mostly clear. The TV had been left on. There was evidence of recent activity in the kitchen. But no sign or sight of Julie. Until I heard the softest jingle while standing in the bedroom, bagging and tagging items as evidence.

So soft, I might have imagined it. But I wasn't the only one in the room, and Desmond had far better hearing than I did.

"You hear that?" He grunted, and I felt my instincts kicking in. I nodded.

"Sergeant, we just heard a noise from the master bedroom. Johnson and I are going to investigate." Desmond radioed in and I heard the affirmative come back from command post.

"Julie?" I called awkwardly, trying to be loud. "If that was you, make that noise again."

We held our breaths. Jingle. Jingle.Jingle jingle jingle. Where was it coming from?

We locked eyes with each other.

"I hear you, Julie." I yelled. "We're going to find you as soon as we can. You just keep making that noise."

"Sargeant, we have a confirmed noise. There must be a hidden passage or something. Recall units. Get the dogs."

"Don't bother." I said suddenly, piecing it altogether. "With the dogs, I mean. I know where she is."

I had been putting it together in my head as I spoke, and I pointed as Desmond corrected himself. The giant, obnoxiously placed gothic drawer set in the middle of the back wall. We had looked inside it, of course. But no one had thought to move it.

"Backup requested, hidden passage most likely behind dresser in bedroom. We're going in." Desmond finished, signaling for my help. Footsteps echoed in the hallway behind us. This was almost over, and that little girl was going home.

The dresser was on hidden, locked wheels, and moved easily enough once we found the mechanism. It only took four cops. The wall's drywall had been cut and replaced with a crude slatted door, which led down earthen steps to a hand-carved, poured concrete basement. The jingling grew louder.

"We're coming, Julie." I shouted as we ran down the hallway lit with industrial fluorescent lights.

A door lay ajar at the end of the hallway. We had to be well beyond the boundaries of the house at this point. How long had this maniac been planning something? This was definitely not up to building code. We freed our weapons as we drew near. Don't shoot the kid. I was praying, Don't let me accidentally shoot the kid.

The scene was horrific. It smelled like a barn gone sour, and a man lay prostrate and drooling at her feet. She, wrapped in a light linen, was shivering in a ball, her chains clanking against themselves.

"Julie? Is that you?" I asked gently as I stumbled over the body at her feet. She whimpered.  "Oh, Julie, you did so good. You did so good. You're safe now." I sat on the bed with her, feeling its dampness soak into my legs as I tentatively wrapped my arms around her. "It'll be okay. We're here. We've got you."

She melted into me with an animal sob and I watched with dead eyes as my three team members burst into a flurry of activity - one on the radio, one on the body, and one out the door. I held her like the stars were falling down.

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