Fleeting Moments(5)

“I put my phone back in my left pocket, but they’re looking our way right now so I can’t just pull it out. I want you to move in like you’re hugging me and pull it out. Can you do that for me, Lucy?”

I nod.

“All right, honey.”

This man—I don’t know him but he’s so calm, like a still rock amongst an intense storm. I press my face to his chest and twist my body, putting my arm around his stomach as if I’m hugging him. I reach into his pocket and curl my fingers around his phone, pulling it out and sliding my hand over the screen, tucking it between my chest and his.

“Now, I want you to unlock it using the code seven-oh-seven-three.”

I shift my body just slightly so I can see the phone, and I press the middle button to light up the screen. I punch in the code and then nod softly.

“Find the messages and read me what’s being said. Can you do that?”

I nod.

“Good girl.”

I go to the messages and pull up the one that’s unread. It’s from a private source and makes zero sense to me, but I relay it to him anyway.

“I-I-I-it says ‘Control in place. Wait for further command.’”

“Okay, Lucy, can you keep that with you? We’ll be needing it again.”

“Are you a cop?” I whisper.

“No.”

Then who the hell is he?

And can he really get us out of here alive?

***

It’s been easily five hours. It’s late afternoon, and the cold has set in as night prepares to fall. My pains have gone from mild to intense, and my entire body hurts from lack of movement. I’m still tucked into Hunter’s side, and he’s bringing me comfort in my desperate time of need. He has me relaying messages through his phone, messages that don’t make sense to me but obviously mean something to him.

He isn’t a cop, or so he tells me, but he’s obviously working with some very powerful people. Either way, he’s keeping me afloat right now, and I honestly don’t know if that would be happening if he wasn’t here. The shrill sounds of sirens outside have been invading the silence for the last few hours. Nobody has come in. Nobody has even tried. I don’t know why that is.

I don’t even know what these men want. Why would you pick a baseball stadium? Is it numbers? Fear because they could do so much damage? I don’t understand.

People have stopped trying to escape. Whoever these men are, they’re not messing around and they’ve made that clear. They’ve been making communication through phones but aside from that have not spoken another word to the crowd except to demand cell phones are turned off. They’ve got guns, that’s all we need to know—so we did what they said. Whatever it is they want, they’re holding a lot of hostages to get it.

I shift uncomfortably and whimper as another sharp pain stabs into my stomach. I groan softly and rub my hand against the still flat area, trying to ease the hurt. Terror washes through me when a gush of warmth travels out from between my legs. I shift and look down. What I’ve feared quickly becomes a reality. I’m having a miscarriage. I choke back a sob as devastation unlike any I’ve ever felt bursts through my body.

My baby.

Not my baby.

Please.

“Lucy,” Hunter says, his voice low. “You’re bleeding.”

“I . . . I think I’m losing my baby,” I sob.

He makes a sound deep in his throat and looks around, eyes falling on the gunmen still pacing. “I’ve got to get you out of here.”

I shift slightly and clutch my stomach with my free hand, sobbing as my jeans soak with blood. My sobs quickly turn hysterical and commotion can be heard beside me. “Lucy, I know it hurts, but you have to stop crying like that. If you trust me, you have to stop.”

I look up to see a gunman watching me. Fear clogs my sobs deep in my throat and I look down at my jeans, trying to steady out my breathing. “Good girl,” he assures me. “Good.”

His eyes scan the crowd again, moving from point to point. The blaring lights of the stadium keep us all well-lit, allowing very little movement. Hunter leans in and whispers, “We’re about five seats from the aisle. If we shuffle across, I think we can make a play to get into the building behind us.” He nods towards the red brick building right behind us that right now has a gunman walking past it. The stairs in the middle lead right up into it, so it’s most likely a way out or perhaps an entry into the corporate area. It’s only a small field, so I’m praying they lead out. “If we can slowly move towards them, I think I can get you out.”

I glance at the stairs; they seem so far away. The only thing we have working in our favor is that there is no one else sitting on the seats leading into the aisle, thank god—there are about six other people sitting on the other side of me, clutching each other like Hunter and I are. The stadium is only about half full, if that. I still don’t know if we can do that without being seen.

“Even if we get right to the aisle, how are we going to get through that door when the gunmen are walking past it all the time?” I ask.

“We wait for a distraction. There’ll be one—you can guarantee that.”

I don’t ask how he knows.

“Just trust me. I won’t let you get hurt,” he murmurs.