He shakes his head. “We keep moving, Rita.” He rubs his large hand over his chin, the scar disappearing underneath his fingers. “We keep going until we find her, wherever she is.”

I glance across the street, one that’s already been cleared, and hope that we’ve got this right. What if Ferris dumped his cell phone in the area and took off? What if we’ve just wasted the last hour climbing through abandoned homes, across rotted floorboards, searching trash-filled basements for nothing? The officer leading our team looks up and motions us forward. I fall into line behind Joe, and we move out along the broken sidewalk and advance up the next set of stairs and into another decaying foyer. We fan out, clearing the first-floor rooms. Then we gather up in the back hallway, listen. There’s noise, movement below, and my heartbeat ratchets up. Our team leader raises a hand and signals for quiet. A man’s voice. He’s here. We creep forward toward the basement door, weapons raised.

CHAPTER 72 - Molly

CHAPTER 72

Molly

I PULL THE CHAIN FROM BEHIND MY BACK. CAL’S EYES OPEN WIDE IN surprise and confusion. I use both hands to wrap it around his neck and push him backward. His glasses tumble to the floor. He trips and falls, and I fall on top of him.

“What the fuck?” He mumbles and grabs my hands, freeing himself from the chain. I’ve managed to cut his neck superficially, but nothing more. He rolls over and pins me underneath him. “You fucking bitch.” He nearly laughs. “Thought you were pretty smart, huh? You been working on that the whole time?” He grabs my hand, eyes my bloody fingers. Saliva drips from his mouth onto my cheek, and his gasping, sour breath blows against my face. “Fine. You want it rough? I’m game.”

I can’t breathe with him on top of me. I squirm and kick, but he’s too strong. I reach out with my right hand, searching for the knife or the gun, but they’re too far away. His hands circle my neck. His fingers tighten on my throat. I feel woozy. I’m sinking into a swamp, dark and dreamlike. His hands loosen just before I go under, and I pull a choppy breath down into my chest. He’s yanking on my jeans. No, no, no.

I’ll fight with everything I’ve got. Keith and Cal meld into one before my eyes. With anger spreading through my body, filling me with purpose, I thrust my hand under my back and work my fingers down to my waist band. I slide out the metal piece I’d pulled from the toilet tank, and with all my strength stab it into the side of his neck.

He howls and rolls away as I scramble to my feet. The floorboards overhead creak. And I hear people shouting.