John Locke - Saving Rachel

His truck moves toward the far wall, maybe a hundred feet away, and the lights go off again. This time, they stay off for—I’m guessing now—fifteen minutes. When they come back on, Creed’s cage is covered with a black tarpaulin. Then the garage-type door opens again and another truck enters.

They’re going to show me Rachel!

The voice clicks on. “Sam, stand by. We’re going to make a gesture of good faith.”

The back part of the truck is covered with a red tarpaulin. It comes to a stop at an extreme angle, with a portion of the back facing me. Then another truck enters through the same door. This one has a blue tarp covering the truck bed. The driver of this truck positions it in such a way that our three trucks have formed a triangle, with my truck being the base. The lights go out again for a few minutes, and when they come on, I see that a small section of tarp on each truck has been cut away in such a manner I can see one person in each cage and they can see me.

But they can’t see each other.

The two people are Rachel and Karen Vogel. Karen sees me and immediately starts sobbing and banging on her glass. Rachel appears to be cursing me.

The voice says, “This should be interesting, Sam. Keep in mind, they can’t see each other or hear each other; nor can they hear you.”

Suddenly, I can hear both women through my speakers. Karen is shouting, “Sam! Sam! Can you hear me?”

I look at her and nod. Then I look at Rachel. She’s following my gaze but can’t see anything because her blue tarp is blocking her vision. She has no idea there’s a truck, a cage, or a woman less than ten feet away. As I turn back to Karen, I can see her also trying to follow my vision.

“What’s there, Sam? Are you safe?” she says.

“Look at me, you son of a bitch,” Rachel hisses. “Look at me!” she shouts. I look at her. She struggles to make her voice steady. “You can hear me?” I nod. “Give them the fucking codes and let’s get out of here,” she says. I know Rachel can’t hear me so I mouth the words, “Are you okay?” “Why can’t I hear you?” she says. I glance at Karen. “Who are you talking to?” she says. “Can you hear me, Sam?” I nod. Rachel says, “Who the fuck are you talking to?”

I sigh. The voice was right. It is interesting.

Karen says, “Sam, look at me. Are you okay?”

I mouth, “I’m fi ne. Are you okay?” “I can’t hear you, Sam. I’m scared. What’s happening?” I shake my head while mouthing the words, “I don’t know.” “Sam?” she says. “Can you still hear me?” “Yes.” “I love you.” I bite my lip. “Do you love me?” I nod. “Yes.” Rachel says, “Sam, look at me. What’s going on? Who are you talking to?” I gesture toward my ears to imply I can no longer hear her. My captor’s voice says, “Chicken shit.” I say, “No kidding.” In my cell, Rachel’s and Karen’s voices suddenly go mute. The voice says, “Sam, we’ve shown good faith. Now it’s your turn.” “What do you mean?” “We’ve proven to you that Rachel is alive and unharmed. And we’ve shown you Karen as a bonus.” “So what?” I say. “You said you’d give me proof that you’ll let us go.” “That’s not quite what I said. But let’s not split hairs. We’re still willing to let you go if you enter the codes.” “What about Rachel and Karen?” “We have plans for all of you,” the voice says. “But those plans depend entirely on your cooperation.” “What kind of plans?” I say. “For now, we’re going to play a little game,” the voice says. “We’ll start by having you turn on your computer.”

I pause a minute. The voice says, “We’re not kidding around, Sam. Just power up your computer and look at the screen. The rest is up to you.”

I sit on the floor and put the computer in my lap. I glance at the two girls and see their mouths moving a hundred miles an hour. I can tell they’re both asking me over and over if I can hear them. Jesus, you’d think they’d get a clue. No, I can’t fucking hear you! I say in my head.

I power up the computer. Moments later, I hear the familiar tune that tells me it’s ready. A screen appears with the numbers one through eighteen, one under the other. To the right of each number, there are sixteen white boxes and a larger yellow box. I’m supposed to put the codes in the boxes. I wonder what the yellow boxes are for.

Ah, I realize. The names. I instantly start typing on the keypad, trying to find a way to get online. But I can’t even get beyond this screen. “Your computer is locked,” the voice says. “I’m not going to give you the codes,” I say. “You might want to reconsider.” “Why’s that?”

“Because if you don’t give us at least one of the codes in the next sixty seconds, we’re going to remove the girls’ covers, turn on their speakers, and tell each of them what you’ve been up to with the other.” “They’re going to find out anyway,” I say. “It’s just a matter of time.” “Is that your final answer?” the voice asks. I lean to my right and look at Creed’s truck. “He’s not going anywhere,” the voice says. “Okay,” I say. “Good choice. Now enter a code.” “No,” I say. “I meant okay, you can remove the tarps and tell the girls what I’ve been up to.” I think I hear the voice sigh. “It’s your funeral,” he says. The lights go out.

Chapter 22

When the lights come on, the tarps have been removed. Now I can see both cages, both girls, and they can see each other. They stare at each other and then at me. The voice says, “They can see each other, but we haven’t turned on their speakers yet. It’s not too late, Sam. Karen doesn’t know you’re married, and Rachel doesn’t know you’re cheating. Type in a code, and we’ll tell them a story to get you off the hook.”

I look at the girls. Each of them saw me talking to someone else. Now they know it was the other girl.

“Fuck it,” I say. “I’m toast.”

“Very well,” the voice says. “But rest assured, you will give us the codes. And soon.”

“We’ll see.”

“We will indeed.”

The girls’ mikes and speakers are activated, as are mine. We can all hear each other. Rachel starts things off. “Who are you?” she says to Karen. To me, she says, “You know her? Who is she?”

Karen says, “Sam, I don’t understand. Please tell me what’s going on. I love you, Sam.”

I sigh, thinking, Oh shit!

Rachel says, “You what? What the fuck did you just say?”

Karen says, “Sam, who is this woman?”

“She’s—”

“I’m his wife!” Rachel says. “And you—what?—you love him? You’re fucking my husband?”

Karen starts to say something to Rachel, changes her mind, and looks at me. She’s frightened and confused. “Sam,” she says. “Please. It’s not true. It can’t be true.”

I grimace at Karen to show how pained I am to have to reveal it to her this way, in this setting. It’s a sincere look. I’m honestly in pain over this. But of course, she is too, and her pain is ten times greater.

“You’re married?” she says.

When I fail to answer, Karen bursts into tears. She covers her face with her hands and sobs. Her shoulders and upper body shake and heave. “No!” she cries. “Oh God, no!” Then she says, “Why? Oh my God, Sam. Why?”

“Why?” Rachel sneers. “He probably likes fucking you, that’s why.” She narrows her eyes and looks at me. “Don’t you, Sam?”

I give my wife an angry look. “What’s that?” Rachel says. “You do like fucking her? Or you don’t? Which is it?” Karen lowers her hands slightly and looks up at me. Apparently, this is something she would like to hear. “Yes,” I say. “Yes?” Rachel says. “Yes, what?” “I like fucking her.” “You’re a lying, cheating bastard!” Rachel hisses. “Sam,” Karen says. “Please. I love you. Tell me that what we have is real.”

I look at Rachel. She says, “I can’t believe you’ve been fucking this piece-of-shit whore. When did you fuck her—while I’m at work every day? In some hotel room?” She gives Karen a withering look. “Or maybe you offer a discount for in-call at your place.”

Karen says, “I don’t even know what that means.”

Rachel turns back to me and spits her words. “Real classy, Sam.”

The three of us are quiet a moment, though Karen continues whimpering. Rachel finally breaks the silence. Her voice has changed. She’s no longer screaming. She seems sad, hurt.

“These bastards kidnapped me,” she says, “slapped me around, threatened me. And all the shit I was going through, terrified, I kept thinking about you. No matter what they did to me, I thought I was going through it for you.” She lowers her eyes. “I never would have taken you for a cheat. With all your flaws, this is something I never saw coming. What a fool I am.” “Rachel, I—” “Oh, shut up, you son of a bitch.” Karen says, “Sam—” I say, “I’m sorry, Karen. I should have told you.”

“Her?” Rachel says, suddenly angry again. “You should have told her? You should have told me, you son of a bitch!”

“You told me you loved me,” Karen says.

Rachel gives me a hard-as-nails look.

“I do love you,” I say.

Karen says, “You do?”

Rachel says, “Excuse me?” “It’s complicated,” I say. “You no-good fucking bastard,” Rachel says. At which point, the voice interrupts us, saying, “Sorry to break in, people, but it’s time to take this to the next level.”

Chapter 23

“Who are you?” Rachel says to the voice. “Why are you holding me? I don’t have the fucking codes!” “What are they talking about, Sam?” asks Karen. “What codes?” I look down at my feet, ashamed. “It’s complicated,” I say.

The voice says, “Ladies, allow me to explain. As you may know, Sam has developed a system to hide money from the authorities. By our estimate, he controls at least eight billion dollars for his clients, most of whom are terrorists, murderers, and thieves. The reason we’re all here, my associates and I want that money. Sam has the access codes. All he has to do is type in the eighteen codes, and we’ll set him free.”

“What about me?” Rachel says. “I’m not involved in any of this. Why are you keeping me here?”

The voice says, “You’re here to help motivate Sam to do the right thing.”

I say, “What’s the next level?”

The voice says, “You wanted proof we’d let you go. But we can’t let you go until you give us the codes. So we’re going to do the next best thing: we’ll give you the opportunity to save one of your women.” All three of us are visibly shaken. I say, “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Choose one of them, Sam.” “Choose one for what?” I say. “Choose one of them to live.”

I look at Karen and Rachel. They’re wearing matching expressions of horror. I’m sure I look just as bad. I start retching. The sandwich I ate is trying to come back up. I jump to my feet and force myself to gain control of my body.

“I’m not going to sentence one of them to die,” I say.

There was a momentary pause. “You’re certain about that?” the voice says.

The girls are making all sorts of sounds, I’m sure, but I can’t hear them. My captors have turned off their microphones. The girls are both terrified, of course. I can see them banging their fists on the wall. I’m not an accomplished lip-reader, but the word “Sam” is pretty easy to decipher. They’re both screaming my name. I’m standing in my cage, turning both palms down to show them a “try not to worry” gesture.

“I’m certain,” I tell the voice. “I’m not going to sentence one to die.”

Another pause, this one longer than the previous one, and then, with a weary, almost defeated tone, the voice says, “Very well, Sam. We’ll kill them both.”

I’m not sure of much that’s happened since whenever it was I made love to Karen in the hotel room, which could have been today, yesterday, or a week ago. But I am sure of one thing: these guys, my captors, need me. They’re not going to kill Karen and Rachel. At least not until they’ve gotten my codes.

“You’re bluffing,” I say.

The voice says, “Sam, we had to disconnect the microphones while we made an adjustment. In a moment, you’ll hear a whirring sound coming from the ladies’ cells. That sound is a vacuum pump, and it will be removing the oxygen from their cells. Once the pump powers up, the microphones will come back on, and you’ll be able to hear their last words.” I shake my head. “That’s absurd,” I say. “Nice try, though.” I look at Rachel and Karen, wink, and make a circle with my thumb and forefinger to show them everything is okay. Then the sound comes on, and I can hear the vacuum pumps sucking the air out of their containers.

Chapter 24

Addressing the voice, I say, “And now I’m supposed to believe that all the air is being sucked out of their cubicles? Not possible.”

The voice says, “Sam, you’ve got a scientific mind; you should be able to follow this. Think of these cells as vacuum storage containers like the ones you might use in your kitchen, to keep things fresh. You, Rachel, Karen, Donovan Creed—you’ve all been placed in hermetically sealed plastic storage containers. Every twelve minutes since you became our guest, we’ve pumped fresh air into your cell. The new oxygen-rich air forces the carbon dioxide-laden air out. If we stop pumping fresh air in, you’d survive maybe three or four hours.”

I look at the containers holding Rachel and Karen. Both women are sitting on the floor. Their mouths are moving, but they appear lethargic. It doesn’t seem possible they could be affected to this degree in such a short period of time. I search my brain, trying to come up with an alternate theory. I think I might have one.

“If you suck all the air out of the containers, the walls will implode,” I say, having no idea if this theory makes the slightest bit of sense.

“Sam, once again, we’d ask you to think about the vacuum storage containers used in kitchens all over the country. Those containers are also plastic. When you attach a pump to the rubber valve on top, you can vacuum seal the container. That’s the whole idea behind keeping the food fresh for a longer period of time. In the same manner, each of our containers is equipped with a check valve in the floor that allows air to be pumped in one direction only. We’ve already turned on the pumps, and they will make short work of the air quality. We don’t have to remove all the air, just enough for them to suffocate. Which they’re about to do. But don’t take my word for it. Here, I’ll turn on the microphones, and you can hear for yourself. On the bright side, your women will be almost perfectly preserved. You’ll hardly be able to tell they’re dead.”