Captive in the Dark(2)

He looked down at his watch, then back up to the girl. The bus was late. Seemingly frustrated, the girl sat on the dirt with her backpack on her knees. Had this been a regular bus stop there would be others, meandering behind her or sitting by a bench, but it wasn’t, so every day Caleb could observe her sitting alone under the same tree near the busy street.

Her family was poor, the next most important factor after being beautiful. It was easier for poor people to disappear, even in America. And especially when the person missing was old enough to have simply run away. It was the typical excuse given by authorities when they couldn’t find someone. They must have run away.

The girl made no move to leave the bus-stop despite the fact that her bus was running forty-five minutes late and Caleb thought it was interesting for some reason. Did she enjoy school so much? Or did she hate home so much? If she hated home, that would make things easier.

Perhaps she’d view her kidnapping as a rescue. He almost laughed –





right.

He eyed the girl’s shapeless, unflattering attire: loose fitting jeans, gray hoodie, headphones and a backpack. It was her consistent outfit, at least until she got to school. There, she would usually change into something more feminine, flirty even. But at the end of the day, she’d change back. He thought about her hating her home life again. Did she dress that way because her home life was restrictive or unstable? Or to prevent unwanted attention from a dangerous neighborhood to and from school? He didn’t know. But he wanted to.

There was something interesting about her that made Caleb want to jump to the conclusion she was the girl he’d been looking for, someone with the ability to blend-in. Someone with the good sense to do as they’re told when faced with authority, or do as they must when faced with danger. A survivor.

Across the street the girl fidgeted with her headphones. Her eyes stared dispassionately at the ground. She was pretty, very pretty. He didn’t want to do this to her, but what choice did he have? He’d resigned himself to the fact that she was a means to an end. If not her, then someone else, either way his plight would be the same.

He continued to stare at this girl, his potential slave, wondering how she would appeal to the target in mind. It was rumored that among the attendees at the auction this year would be Vladek Rostrovich, one of the wealthiest men in the world, and most assuredly one of the most dangerous. It was to this man the slave would be entrusted for however long it took Caleb to get close and destroy everything the man held dear to him. Then kill him.

Still, Caleb wondered, not for the first time, why he was drawn to her. Possibly it was her Captive in the Dark CJ Roberts eyes. Even from a distance he could see how dark, how mysterious and sad they were. How old they seemed.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, when he heard the cough and squealing gears of the school bus approaching from down the street. He watched closely as the girl’s face relaxed in relief. It seemed to include more than just the arrival of the bus, but of escape, maybe even freedom. At last, the bus arrived, in perfect tandem as the sun finally rose to its full strength. The girl glanced up with a frown but she lingered, letting the light touch her face before disappearing inside.

***

A week later, Caleb sat in his usual spot, waiting for the girl. The bus had come and gone, but the girl wasn’t on board so he’d figured he’d wait and see if she showed up.

He was about to leave when he saw her round the corner at a dead run toward the bus-stop.

She arrived out of breath, almost frantic. She was an emotional thing. Again he wondered why she was so desperate to make it to school.

Caleb looked out through his car window at the girl. She was pacing now, perhaps with the realization she had missed her bus. It seemed unjust that just last week the girl had waited for nearly an hour for the bus to arrive, but this week the driver had not waited at all. No girl, no stopping. He wondered if she would wait another hour, just to be sure there was no hope. He shook his head. Such actions would only reveal a desperate nature. He both hoped she would and wouldn’t wait.

His fractured thoughts gave him pause. He shouldn’t have hopes at all. He had orders, his own agendas. Plain. Simple. Clear-cut. Morals had no place when it came to revenge.

Morals were for descent people, and he was as far from descent as a person could get. Caleb didn’t believe in the existence of any higher being or an afterlife, though he knew a lot about religion from growing up in the Middle East. But if there