Finding Emily

  The day before Emily went missing, I ran seven miles in the predawn chill, slipped and landed on the icy pavement on my way back. I shook it off, my bloody left knee be damned, to finish one more mile. It’s really not safe to run solo, or go anywhere alone here. I don’t really care, because running is my escape from everything I hate about my life. The wind grazing my back, the solitude and the peace of it all fills me with the best natural high I can get.  

    I strolled back to my room, showered, bandaged my leg and read for class before I changed into jeans and an Astros sweatshirt for our 10:00. The lecture began when I arrived, and I was powering up my laptop when Emily sashayed in, a leather backpack slung over her shoulder, wearing a bulky white cable knit, cutoffs, and flip flops, on a forty degree day. When she tossed her designer sunglasses onto her fuchsia notebook, I noticed she had no pen, so I fished a blue one out of my bag. When she had it, thanks to the guy sitting in front of me, she winked as she mouthed “thanks''. 

 When class ended, I packed my stuff, with the few notes I'd taken, and glanced up at Emily.

    “Hey, babe! Thanks again for the pen,” Emily said, readjusting her backpack on her shoulder.

I nodded. “You hungry? I barely made it here and skipped breakfast.” I felt famished, realizing my last meal was sometime before 6pm.

    “I want a burger, or some pizza!” Emily said.  

     “Lead the way, Em.”

     A few minutes later, we stood in line at the pizza bar- a pepperoni for her and a Margherita for me. We settled at a patio table. I would have preferred to eat inside, but Em loves the outdoors in any type of weather. Silverware clinked, snatches of conversations filled the air. A breeze brushed Emily’s hair as she picked the toppings from her cheesy slice, popping one between her cotton candy pink lips. 

 “Ready for break?” Emily asked, stuffing a piece of tomato in her mouth. 

    “Hadn’t really thought about it, since I’ll be working for most of it,” 

    “Well, I’m ready, this semester has been super tough,” Emily said.

    She chomped a second slice, lips curling and lashes fluttering. I shivered, and nearly dropped my slice beside the table leg. 

  “Anna, you OK?”

 “Just tired, and a little chilly.” I pushed around my second slice, with less than a handful of basil leaves and overripe tomatoes.  

  “Davis and I have a date tonight. I’m not sure why I said yes, but maybe it’ll be fun,” Dark circles curtained Em’s eyes, and her shoulders drooped.

  “Do you know what he’s planning?” I really didn’t want to know.

  “Probably dinner and a movie, not sure.”

   I eyed the clock above our heads. Instead of wishing her well and heading off to avoid being late, I said, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

 Emily’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean- that I shouldn’t date Davis, Anna?”

  “I’ve heard that he’s a creep, Em. Concerned is all I am.” 

  “Just because you hate every guy here doesn’t mean I have to!” Em elbowed her drink off the table, which splashed on me as I caught it. The corners of her mouth twitched as I nestled her bottle beside her plate, but she didn’t speak.

  “I don't hate anyone, Emily. I’m just not interested in any of them.” My heart raced as if I were in the middle of a sprint.

“Emily?” 

“What, Anna?” She piled sauce-stained napkins onto the empty plate.

  “I apologize if I offended you. Have a good time tonight, and let me know when you make it back, OK?”

  Emily gave me a curt nod before she sauntered away without a goodbye. My stomach ached, and I couldn’t figure out if my soggy pizza or her stormy exit was the source of my uneasy feeling.

   Emily and I had never argued in 3 1/2 years. The only time I’d ever seen her upset happened when she told me about her grandmother, who died the summer before our freshman year. Even though she knew her Gran’s illness was incurable, Em was inconsolable, having lost her best friend. 

  I racked my brain to understand her reaction during a brisk walk to the Science Building. After our lab ended, I stayed to finish my assignment, because I hate having things hanging over my head-chores, assignments, whatever. Then, I traded my button down and jeans for fleece, grabbed my earbuds and phone, topped off my refillable bottle and added a few leaves of basil from my plant.

 When I reached University, wispy cotton ball clouds replaced the bright sunshine. I didn’t notice anyone trailing me until I reached the intersection of University and North Hampton, three miles from campus. 

  “Cold out, huh?”, the voice said.

 I nodded at the hoodie clad girl.

 “Haven’t I seen you, in the Science Building?” she asked, turning her head to reveal a chunky braid, a smile playing across windburned lips. I noted her height, nearly equal to my own, and that I’d never seen her on campus. I stepped to the edge of the sidewalk to stretch my stiff right calf and hoped she’d take the hint to leave.

 “Maybe,” If I crossed here, I could go all the way to the Gardens and loop back to campus. 

  The girl reached into her pocket, and I sprinted across the street against the signal. I heard her shouting, “Hey, come back for a sec” when I was halfway down North Hampton, near the Botanical Gardens. I peered over my shoulder, beyond grateful that she hadn’t followed.

   A while back, I discovered a hidden way into the park near its entrance, allowing me to skirt the park’s perimeter. I darted between twisted, fragrant pines, their bare branches resembled gnarled arms that threatened to crush someone. 

I was gasping for breath when I stopped at the entrance to campus, rounding the corner where I saw another one of those flyers. This one showed a girl I’d seen a few times, her hair streaming behind her, poised and perfect. When a disappearance happens, there’s an uproar for a week or so, a vigil on the Lawn, and these annoying flyers. Then, we have these forums with the campus police, about varying our routines, and they appear outside the buildings for a few days, especially during evening classes, to monitor and encourage us to travel in pairs or small groups. But I don’t care. I'm not worried about going it alone, because no one would want to snatch me-what would be the point?

Once I made it back and changed, I read my bio chapters. At 2:30, when I couldn’t summarize another paragraph, I grabbed my phone and dialed Emily’s number. She didn’t answer, so I decided to call it a night.

The next few days raced by, between classes and study sessions, and I hadn’t heard from Em. I went over and knocked on her door to no reply. Before I left, I stopped at the hall office to leave a message for her with RA, who barely looked up from her book when I explained I had not heard from Emily in half a week. 

 I walked to my morning class and watched Davis Walters tromp through the quad, trailing a gorgeous brunette in a red miniskirt, his lips screwed up into a scowl. The girl ducked into the Arts Building. I followed Davis as he entered the Student Center cafe. He cradled a water bottle, then grabbed a muffin. Next. he unfolded what looked like a $20 and thrust it at the cashier. I swiped my own card, and watched him dash toward the exit, disappearing when I reached the lobby.

     I could take the direct approach and talk to Davis. Or, I could confront him and threaten to share my suspicions, with no real evidence to support them, with Campus Police. Then, there was the third option, but for that, I needed the element of total surprise.  

  After I emailed and left yet another voicemail on Emily’s phone.

Then, I decided to take a risk.

 Inside his Davis’ building, I passed a deserted front desk to a long corridor, and noted the nameplates on the doors. I tried the second floor and stopped halfway down the hall when I saw Davis’ name on the placard. Could it be this easy?

 Later that night, I rifled through my closet for anything resembling the white jumpsuit I’d seen the cleaning crew members wear. I unearthed an ancient white T-shirt and hip hugging white jeans. probably not the best attire for the job-dark colors would be a better way to blend in during the commission of a break-in.

 I arrived at his residence hall and waited outside the door of Davis’ room until a familiar face approached.

 “If you’re looking for him, he’s on a date,” he said. 

  “He said I could borrow his notes.” 

  The guy chuckled. Tall, with a wide grin and smooth, manicured hands, he stepped closer. “It’s Saturday night, darling. Why don’t you come over and wait here with me? Or, we could go out somewhere.”

 “Another time, maybe?” I bit my tongue on what I really wanted to say-when hell freezes over.

   Davis’ neighbor shrugged and returned to his room. He'd definitely remember me, but I’d come this far, and I had only my life as I knew it to lose, and the life of my friend. 

   I ducked inside the unlocked crew closet and left the door cracked to watch the hallway. 30 minutes later, I was ready to give up. How the hell would I get in, since these doors had locks I had no idea how to pick? I didn’t see anyone else on duty whose keys I could use (or steal), which they’d be unlikely to do anyway when they realized I didn’t belong. 

   Yet, something urged me to stay. I emerged from the closet and made my way to Davis’ door.

  I grasped the doorknob. Hoping against hope, the door opened.

  Providence and entry granted.

 The room resembled the aftermath of a rushed date prep. Sweaters were strewn across chairs and the scent of a pungent aftershave hung in the air. I dropped a boot on the carpet, and a shallow echo bounced off the walls, though nothing fell out of the shoe.

  When I heard a key turn in the lock, I grabbed my stuff and pushed up the window.

   The door opened, and I threw myself out into the endless, frigid darkness. 

   I awoke shivering. My entire left side, especially my shoulder, ached with the pain of 1,000 jabs. My knee pulsed as if it had been slammed by a jackhammer. Davis peered down at me from his window. “What the hell?” 

Before he made it down to confront me, I hauled myself up and across campus. Somehow, I settled myself onto my bed and didn’t stop the tears soaking my pillow, mangled and no closer to finding Emily.

I woke up at 6:30, feeling as if I’d been in a car wreck. The headache was the least of it, and my shoulder hurt so much I wanted to saw it off, along with my grapefruit sized knee. Later, during my appointment at the Health Center, I endured the painless, tiresome lecture from a nurse on personal safety. I would need to begin physical therapy for my shoulder, and she gave me a brace for my sprained knee, which I was assured would heal. 

Thankfully, the pain meds provided some relief and a dreamless ten-hour sleep. When I awakened, I flipped on the lamp switch and noticed a brown mailer under the door. When I tugged the flap, a tattered, bloodied wristband with a 6 digit number printed on it slid out into my hand. Then, I shook out a light yellow card with a phone number printed on the bottom. On the back of the card was a logo, the silhouette of a female and something resembling a Greek letter. Somehow, I knew this was not a calling card for a sorority or group I would want to join. I dialed the number and heard two clicks and a long beep, no response or outgoing message. With trembling fingers, I stuffed everything back inside the mailer for Campus Police.

On Thursday, the last day of the semester, I dragged myself out of bed at the last moment. I tried to move my shoulder when I shrugged off the sling, and bullets of pain shot through my side. After I popped another pill, I dressed for the day and hobbled out into the nearly freezing temps for class.

  I was so lost in thought that I never saw it coming.

 The dark green van appeared beside me, and a pair of hulking arms encircled and carried me away. The last thing I remember is the pain coursing through my shoulder, before the world faded away. 

When I awakened, my voice wouldn’t allow me to scream. A searing, stabbing pain coursed through my entire being. My clothes had been changed into a stiff white gown tied with a silver sash, which my reddened blotchy skin loathed. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, and I propped myself against a stone wall, drenched in fear and confusion. 

    A door clicked open, a shaft of light streamed onto the wall. A petite woman in a blue surgical cap and mask hovered over me. She snipped off my wrist restraints with surgical scissors and checked my pulse and vitals, her ice cold stethoscope a shock to my clammy skin. The woman shook her head before she disappeared. Sometime later, I realized I wasn’t dreaming when a blast of frigid air swept over me. a package of animal crackers and a bottle of water were tossed onto the floor near me before the door closed, and I crawled to get the food.

  I’d made a mistake by playing detective. Because I tried to find her on my own, I had put us in more danger. Because I spent so much time alone, no one would have any idea that I’d been taken. I sobbed until there were no tears left, and another memory of Dad, Mom and Jenny in the yard making a snowman during a rare blizzard aced through my weary mind. I would have given anything to return to that time, my heaven on Earth.

I woke up to another woman standing over me, this time accompanied by a pair of hulking men clad in black leather. She wielded an enormous needle, a clear liquid streaming onto the floor. 

It was now or never. 

  I sank my teeth into her hand and broke free as one of the goons lunged for me. The second one attended to screaming Nurse Wicked, giving me the opening I needed. My chest burned and drummed as I scampered through a dim corridor. A stench pierced my nostrils, an odor so foul I stopped to catch my breath. 

A woman was sprawled on the floor, her wrists bound and blood gushed from a forehead gash. One of the lumbering assholes closed in. I staggered up three flights of stairs, using my good shoulder to nudge the stairwell door, which led to a place I never expected-the first floor of the Science Building.  

 Brilliant beams of light flooding through the enormous windows blinded me, and I leaned against a wall, noticing the stares of students who surrounded me.

 “Help me!” 

  Sandy from my bio lab grasped my shoulder.

  “Who did this to you, Anna?” she asked.

  My field of vision narrowed, and I could no longer stand.

  “Anna, wake up!” The cool tile felt like sweet relief to my aching head.

Two weeks later, I had recovered and returned home to celebrate New Year’s with my parents and Jen. What I learned later was that the missing women were snatched and held by a group of radical individuals operating all over the country for the purpose of impregnating them against their will. Our university received money for each student who was stolen, more than each one paid in tuition. My escape led to the rescue of the other victims in that basement, including Emily. The entire plot was revealed by an administrator that involved more than a dozen schools across the country. 

Needless to say, I never returned to campus, being given the option to complete my final semester remotely, free of charge. But, I never attended medical school. I was accepted into a creative writing program to earn a graduate degree. I wrote an essay, which I submitted to one of the few remaining independent publications aimed at young women. I poured every bit of terror and anger I’d felt into that piece, and it was accepted six months later by the magazine. 

As for Emily and I, we spoke for eight hours until well after midnight when she’d finished reading my piece. 

 “So, you really don’t want to be a doctor, Anna?”

 “Not at all, and it’s not just because of what happened.” 

 “Well, you definitely have what it takes to be a great writer, Anna.”

  “I guess. Hey, I’m sorry about that day, Emily.”

  “You don’t have to apologize, Anna. You were just concerned.”

  “As misplaced as it was.”

   “But who could have known? Anyway, pizzas are on me when I’m in town next, OK?”

  I was sure she could see the grin spreading across my face. “I can’t wait, Em.”