Not Quite Enough(48)

The water dripping into the pool picked up its pace. They both focused on the hole in the cave. “It’s raining.”
“All these years I’ve been afraid of heights. When I get home, I’m going to sleep with the light on.”
“And I’m going to paint my Jeep yellow.”
“Good idea.”
“You must be hungry.” He jumped up, grabbed the bag with the food inside.
She agreed although she wasn’t. Not a good sign. While he dug into their dwindling supplies Monica peeked under the bandage on her leg. There had been many times she’d seen infected limbs, but never could she actually feel the pain associated with them. She wiggled her toes, thankful that at least her circulation wasn’t gone.
“Here.” Trent handed her a protein bar.
Her fingers didn’t cooperate with the wrapper. When Trent took the food from her, she tried to fist her hands and found it hard to do. The symptom struck her as odd, something that she should understand, but didn’t.
“Did you eat?” she asked when she took a bite.
“Earlier.”
The granular consistency of fake peanut butter and chocolate was hard to swallow. “I’ll never eat these again,” she said between bites.
Trent opened his mouth to comment when something from above caught their attention. Trent was on his feet standing next to the pool in a heartbeat. “Hello?” he yelled. “Hello?”
Monica strained to hear a reply, something.
Painful silence met the room.
Trent kept yelling. His voice growing more desperate each time he cried out.



Chapter Seventeen



Jessie clenched her phone in her hand, desperate to hear anything. Jack had left before dawn with the others. He called every hour, each time reporting the same thing. They’d not found the car Trent drove, or any sign at all.
The daunting task of updating her mother back in California, and Katie and Dean in Texas, weighed on her. Monica and Trent had been gone three nights and four days. Each passing hour chipped away at the hope of their survival.
Why couldn’t Monica be the type of woman to tell her responsibilities to blow off and run away with a guy? Having a flaky sister was better than having no sister at all.
She squeezed her eyes shut, felt a teardrop down her cheek. Desperate, she called Monica’s phone again. It rang, then voice mail picked up. “I love you, Mo. Please get this and call me. Please. I need you,” she sobbed. “I love you.”
Jessie dropped her hand in her lap and stared at the screen with Monica’s picture. Her laughing eyes and beautiful smile.
Jessie had taken the picture when they were searching for bridesmaid’s dresses for Katie’s wedding. What the camera didn’t show was the horrible dress Katie had made Monica try on. Katie’s taste in clothing was impeccable, but as a joke, she told Monica how much she loved the ruffled taffeta in pea green. It was awful. Jessie had snapped a picture when Katie informed Monica that the joke was on her. Monica had been so relieved and then oddly proud of Katie’s deception. She’d promised to make it up someday.
Jessie flipped through a few pictures on her phone. Most were recent and didn’t contain any images of her sister. But the further she dug, the more she found. All of them were full of life, love.
Now all she had was Monica’s voice on a cell phone.
Jessie called it again, listened to Monica’s voice. The pain in her chest threatened to explode.
She sucked in her lower lip to keep from crying out at the unfairness of anything bad befalling her sister.
Wait.
“Kiki?” Jessie called to the near empty house. Only Reynard’s wife was in the home. Their children had left with a grandparent the day before. Kiki remained behind.
Jessie jumped to her feet in search of the other woman. She found her in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a crutch under her arm. “Kiki?”
Kiki turned around. “Did you hear something?” she asked, hopeful.
“No. But… what is Trent’s phone number? His cell number?”
Kiki told her the number and Jessie punched in the numbers. The phone went directly to voice mail. No ring.
Jessie dialed Monica’s again. Several rings, then voice mail.
“Her phone is on… still charged.”
“What?” Kiki limped slowly toward Jessie.
“Monica’s phone rings before the voice mail picks up. That means it’s working. And if it’s working maybe the cell company can narrow down where it is.”
Kiki’s eyes grew wide.
The skin on Jessie’s arms prickled with promise. Hope.
Her next call was to Jack.
“Hey, darlin’.” His voice was flat.
“Her cell phone is still working,” she said without a hello.
“What?”
“Monica’s cell still rings before her voice mail kicks in. It’s still charged.”
She met silence on the phone. “Jack?”
“Yeah, wait… are you sure it rings?”
“I’ve called a half dozen times. It rings five times then goes to voice mail.”
“Oh, damn.”
“I’m calling the service provider now.”
For the first time in days, Jessie had hope.


Monica didn’t finish the protein bar before she fell back to sleep.
Trent watched the rise and fall of her chest and prayed for the first time in years. They needed to get out of there… soon. He tried to keep her cool, changing her heat-soaked clothes with cooler ones soaked in the rainwater that dripped from above.
Every so often, he heard something above. He called out each time but didn’t hear anything in response.