Chapter 7 - The Empty Room
The hardwood stairs groaned violently under Ryan’s frantic weight as he plunged down to the first floor, taking the turn so sharply his shoulder clipped the drywall.
"Maya!" Ryan shouted, his voice echoing off the high vaulted ceilings of the living room. "Leo!"
There was no answer. The house felt suddenly cavernous, cold, and profoundly wrong, as if the air had been sucked out of the rooms.
He skidded into the kitchen, his eyes darting across the linoleum floor. The metal vent cover lay discarded near the baseboard like a discarded shield, its four mounting screws scattered across the tiles. The wooden chair where Maya had been sitting moments earlier was pulled back, her plate of untouched buttered toast sitting in a pool of drying milk. But the little girl was nowhere to be seen.
"Leo!" Ryan yelled louder, panic clawing at his throat with sharp, unforgiving talons.
A muffled sound came from the front entryway. Ryan whirled around and sprinted down the short hallway toward the front door.
Leo was standing right where Ryan had told him to wait, his small back pressed against the heavy oak front door, his arms wrapped tightly around his own knees as he sat curled up on the small storage bench by the coat rack. He was shaking from head to toe, tears cutting clean tracks through the dust on his cheeks.
"Dad!" Leo cried out, scrambling off the bench and launching himself at Ryan’s legs. "Dad, she's gone! She's gone!"
Ryan dropped to his knees, grabbing his son by the shoulders, his eyes wide and frantic. "Leo, look at me. What happened? Where is Maya?"
"I—I was waiting by the door like you said," Leo sobbed, his words tumbling over each other in a chaotic rush. "And then... and then the door in the hallway by the laundry room clicked. The one that goes down to the basement crawlspace! I thought it was just Mom, but then a big man with a scary face came up the stairs. Not the man in the wall, another one! He looked like he was wearing a heavy jacket and a woolen cap, and he had a dirty beard!"
Ryan’s heart stopped. "A man? What did he look like, Leo? Did he say anything?"
"He didn't talk to me," Leo whimpered, burying his face in Ryan's chest. "He just walked right past me toward the kitchen. He looked into the vent, and then he saw Maya sitting at the dining table. He grabbed her arm—he didn't hurt her, but he grabbed her hard—and he said, 'Time to go, little bird, your uncle Marcus’s little game is over.' And then he carried her out through the back door into the yard!"
Ryan stood up so fast his head swam. He looked past Leo toward the open back door of the kitchen, which led directly out onto the wooden deck and down into the overgrown autumn woods bordering the suburban property.
Clara stumbled into the hallway behind them, her face pale, her eyes wild with a fresh wave of horror. "Ryan... what did Leo just say? Who took her?"
"Not who," Ryan said, his voice dangerously low as he grabbed his heavy set of keys off the entryway table. "Marcus had an accomplice. Someone down in that crawlspace the entire time we were arguing. While we were up there screaming at each other, someone walked right out of our basement and took a terrified little girl into the woods."
"We have to call the police, Ryan, right now!" Clara cried, reaching blindly for his arm.
"No," Ryan snapped, pulling his arm away with a cold, unforgiving jerk. "The police will take twenty minutes to get out here through these winding suburban roads. By then, whoever has Maya will be miles away in those woods. I built this house, Clara. I know every inch of those property lines, and I know every trail behind this subdivision."
"Ryan, you can't go out there alone!" Clara screamed, her voice cracking with desperation. "It's almost dusk! Those woods stretch for miles toward the state highway! You don't know who you're dealing with!"
"I know exactly who I'm dealing with," Ryan said, his jaw set like granite. He turned to Leo, placing both hands gently on his son's shaking shoulders. "Leo, buddy, I need you to stay right here with your mom. Lock this front door behind me. Do not open it for anyone except me. Do you understand?"
Leo nodded tearfully, his small hands clutching the hem of Ryan’s shirt. "Be careful, Dad. Please."
May you like
Ryan didn't answer. He turned on his heel, burst through the kitchen, and threw open the back door. The cold October wind rushed in, carrying the scent of damp earth, decaying leaves, and pine needles. Without a second look back, Ryan stepped out onto the deck, leaped down the wooden steps, and plunged directly into the dark, encroaching shadows of the woods.
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