Page 62 of No Take Backs

“They’re in the woods,” I repeat. “Safe and away from the fire.”

“Lyla.” I hear Josh call her name from the trail, so I hurriedly climb down to join him.

“I’ve got oxygen,” I tell him as I try, ironically, to catch my breath from running. “Any sign of them?”

“No.” Josh shakes his head. “But I did see the back door was closed. There was no way they got into the house once the fire started. It would have been too hot.”

His eyes have the same worry in them that I know is reflected in my own.

“Let’s go.” I lead the way down the trail, only stopping when the phone in my pocket starts blaring loudly. “Wait.” I freeze, dropping the tank off my back so I can dig in my pocket for the phone. “That’s the ringtone Lyla picked out for her special tone when her mom got her that damned thing for emergencies. She’s the only one that rings through my work settings.”

As I struggle with the straps on the oxygen pack tangling around my arms and making it impossible to move, Josh doesn’t have the same problem. He reaches right into my pocket and grabs the phone blaring Lyla’s voice saying, “Auntie. Auntie. Auntie.” Over and over again.

“Lyla?” I call her name as soon as he hits the green button connecting the call. “Lyla, where are you?”

“Auntie?” She sounds out of breath. “Auntie, I think I messed up. Tell Josh. We need Josh.”

She isn’t out of breath.

She’s whispering.

“Lyla,” Josh speaks up, pulling the phone close to his face. “Lyla, I’m here. Tell us where you and Richard are. Your mom said you were in the tree house.”

“We were,” Lyla whispers, starting to sob. “Then we saw the mean lady. And Richard said we had to go scorched earth because she started the fire in our kitchen. So we followed her. But now she has him and I’m scared. And he’s yelling at her right now. But she’s got this jug that smells really bad, like it’s dying. We didn’t mean to go, Josh. I promise. But when you go scorched earth… you can’t go alone. I couldn’t let Richard go alone, but now she’s got him and she said she’s going to hurt him.”

“Lyla.” Josh keeps his voice calm, even though I’m holding a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming and crying out. “Lyla, I’m going to find you. Can you tell me where you are?”

“No.” Lyla starts crying. “I don’t know where I am.”

“That’s okay, Lyla.” He pulls out his phone silently and hands it to me. “Call dispatch,” he orders quietly.

Nodding, I take it and call in.

“Lyla. I’m going to hang up with you, but I want you to call 9-1-1 right now. They’re going to connect you right back to me, okay?”

I don’t hear Lyla’s answer because the dispatcher picks up and I start relaying instructions.

“It’s Nia,” I tell Kennedy’s familiar voice. “My niece is going to call 9-1-1 right now. Connect her back to me through the line while you track her location. She’s reporting a kidnapping at the location of the fire on Hill Crest.” I swallow deeply.

“Don’t worry, Lyla,” I tell her when I hear her voice on the other end of the line. “We’re going to find you and Richard.”

“Hurry, Auntie,” Lyla whispers… right before she starts screaming.

24

JOSH

As soon as Lyla hangs up to call 9-1-1, I grab my phone with trembling hands, my fingers barely managing to dial the non-emergency line. The seconds it takes to connect feel like hours, each one a reminder that Lyla and Richard are still in danger.

My heartbeat echoes in my ears, a relentless drumbeat urging me to act faster, to do whatever I have to in order to save them.

“Trace the call,” I bark into the phone the moment Kennedy’s partner—someone new, someone who doesn’t yet recognize the urgency in my voice—answers. “Trace it now,” I demand, my tone brooking no argument. My mind races with the possibilities of what could be happening to them, and the dread of not knowing gnaws at me. “We might not have long before the line disconnects. Let’s pray we get a phase two location.” I’m not one to pray often, but right now, I’m ready to beg any higher power for a miracle.

Nia whispers something to Lyla, and I hear her crying. Suddenly, Lyla’s terrified scream pierces through the air, sharp and jagged, slicing through my resolve and leaving nothing but raw fear in its wake. The abrupt silence that follows, marked only by the ominous click of the line disconnecting, sends an icy shiver down my spine. My stomach clenches as my mind races with the nightmare that is coming to life right in front of us, each horrifying scenario worse than the last.

I don’t even have my gun, since I’m in my bunker gear. Grabbing Nia’s trembling hand, I move back toward the house as I wait silently for the dispatcher to refresh her screen. Okay, I’m not patient.

“Hurry the fuck up,” I snap, unable to keep the desperation from seeping into my voice. My free hand clenches into a fist, nails digging into my palm as if the pain might somehow ground me. “Do you have it?” I repeat, the words coming out harsher than intended, but I don’t have the luxury of politeness right now. Every delay feels like a death sentence, and I can’t afford to wait any longer.