Page 88 of Stolen Faith
Rowan flicked the knife. “If you’re lying…”
“I’m not! They were there. If they’re not there now, it’s not my fault! Not my fault I can’t control—”
Rowan shoved the gag into his mouth and went back to the group.
“If they’re together, it would be better for us to go to them,” Juliette said.
“Moving six people, one of them a hostage?” Rowan wasn’t an expert on things like that, but it sounded like a bad idea.
“Normally I’d say no,” Devon said. “But moving two prisoners would require a minimum of four able-bodied people, and we don’t have that.”
The five of them looked at one another.
“So all five of us are going to sneak up to the reverend’s office with Barry?” Izabel asked.
“Yes. If we’re caught, we have Barry as a shield, and we’re together. If we split up, it means one group doesn’t have a hostage for protection and negotiation,” Devon said.
“Question is, how are we going to move him?” Brennon asked.
“Any suggestions, Hollywood?” Izabel was clearly joking, but Brennon’s eyes lit up.
Ten minutes later, Rowan stood back, watching Brennon finish up.
Izabel came to stand beside him; then Brennon joined them, smiling and pointing at Barry. “Okay, you can’t tell me that’s not funny. I mean, this whole situation is terrifying, but still.”
Brennon had found a cart in another classroom. Given the baskets of snacks on the second shelf, it was probably a snack cart. Now it was prisoner transport. They’d hog-tied Barry and put him face down on the top of the cart. They hadn’t been able to force the casted arm all the way up behind his back, so a web of yarn spanned from his cast to his wrist and ankles.
Rowan’s lips twitched.
“That’s better,” Brennon said. “I like it when you smile.” He placed his hand on Rowan’s shoulder, drawing him close enough that their foreheads touched. Rowan tightened the embrace by gripping the back of Brennon’s neck.
Brennon closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. “The first thing we’re doing when we get out of here is find a bar.”
“And then a therapist,” Izabel added.
Rowan chuckled. “It’s a date.”
Devon consulted the map. “It’s a straight shot, but we have to take the elevator.”
“What if there are security cameras in the elevators?” Izabel asked.
“We were already in the elevator once,” Rowan pointed out.
“Maybe no one was watching them. But they might be now.” Izabel looked worried. He didn’t blame her.
“We’ll have to be fast,” Devon said. “We’re only going up two floors and then down a short hall. We need to make it into the reverend’s office one way or another because there will definitely be a phone there. If TiffaniGrace and the reverend are not in there, we barricade ourselves in the office and regroup.”
Rowan moved to the door. Brennon was pushing the Barry cart, and Devon had the gun, which he kept trained on Barry.
Rowan opened the door, checked the hallway, then motioned everyone out. Izabel was first. He hated that, wished he were in front, but he was going to protect their rear while Izabel sprinted for the elevator button.
Seventy seconds later, they were all in the elevator. Two minutes after that they were out of the elevator on the top floor. The elevator was in a small recess, so they crowded around the doors, staying still and quiet. Rowan peeked around the corners.
The hallway was empty, but unlike the one downstairs, it wasn’t quiet.
Raised voices came from the reverend’s office. There was an alcove carved out of the hallway near the reverend’s door, with a small, tidy desk situated in the center. The reverend’s secretary or receptionist? Given the late hour, the desk was predictably empty, the staff member long since clocked out for the day.
The plush carpet muffled their footsteps, and the sound of the cart, but given the argument commencing inside, Rowan doubted that anyone would hear them coming.