The Way Home by Shannon Flagg

and get back to the warehouse as quickly as she could.
    She began to walk with purpose, looking left and right to see if she noticed anything now that she was thinking more critically. A feeling of paranoia washed over her; she felt the hair on the back of her neck and arms stand up. She was being watched. Susan was sure of it. It took everything inside of her not to break into a run, but if she was right, she didn't want to let on that she knew.
    Houdini's words from earlier echoed through her mind. He'd kissed her awake, told her that he had to go. He told her to carry her gun if she left the warehouse. Instead, she'd forgotten it in her examination room when it was possible that she'd need it. Houdini was going to be pissed when he found out, and she wouldn't be able to blame him—providing of course that she survived whatever was about to happen next.
    A sudden screech of tires made her jump. She turned to the sound and saw a black Lexus SUV stopped about a block away. It moved forward quickly, its path veering away from the street, towards the sidewalk and her. Fear made Susan's body into stone. The SUV was close enough for her to see that the numbers on the license plate were blacked out, and still she could only watch, unable to do anything to escape what was quite certainly her death rushing towards her. And then it wasn't. With another screech of tires, the SUV came to a stop.
    Susan took several steps backwards, trying for as much distance as possible as the truck reversed and turned back towards the road. Her heart was about to pop straight out of her chest. She couldn't breathe. As a doctor, she recognized all the signs of a severe anxiety attack, but the knowledge didn't make the feeling stop.
    A scream started and then died in her throat as the tinted driver's window rolled down. She recognized the man behind the wheel. It was Rick. Rick, who had been declared legally dead because he'd been gone for so long. Rick had tried to run her down. He was alive. He was alive and in Center City.
    It was all too much. The panic took over, and darkness followed.
     
    <#<#<#<#
     
    The first thing that registered in Susan's mind as she slowly woke was that she was cold, freezing cold. In fact, she was shivering. Complete darkness greeted her. Fear rose along with bile up her throat; she tried to sit up but soon realized she couldn't. She kicked her feet and realized she was in a box. And maybe in a moving car or truck, because she could feel the vibration of tires beneath her.
    Her hands were bound, loosely enough that she was able to attempt to reach the pockets of her jeans but soon remembered that she'd left her phone at the warehouse. It took a few more minutes for her to remember anything, and from there it wasn't hard to connect the dots.
    Rick had grabbed her. Susan just didn't know why or where he could possibly be taking her. What the hell had he been up to? How had he found her? There were more questions than answers; it made her head hurt. Everything hurt.
    She was thinking clearly enough to know that she needed to stay calm and still, reserve her strength for the moment when the box opened. The fact that it might never open couldn't be a consideration. Instead of thinking about it, she thought about the one thing that always made her smile. Susan thought about Houdini, and it calmed her.
    He'd realize that she was gone as soon as he got back to the warehouse. He'd see her gun still there and know that something was wrong. For the first time ever, Susan wished that she and Houdini shared the same sort of bond that Vera and Deacon did. Normally she was glad that there was no one inside of her mind except for her, privacy was important but she'd have traded it without hesitation to be able to just let Houdini know that she was in trouble.
     

Chapter Eight.
     
    Ethan Clark was tougher than Houdini had given him credit for. He'd been worked over really well, carefully so that there would be no visible bruises since