Unbullied

Chapter 7

Chapter 7As Charlie's abductors hauled her from the vehicle and set her feet down on a paved surface, she felt strangely calm. Maybe it was because there was nothing she could do at that point to escape. Maybe it was just a relief that her struggle would soon be over.

Whatever the reason, she let her captors lead her forward without putting up a fight. They walked her over the paved surface for six steps, then crossed into rough dirt and tall grass. Charlie heard the grass rasping, felt it ripple around her calves and crumple underfoot for another twelve steps.

Then, her captors stopped. One of them held her in place, gripping her upper arms tightly from behind.

Charlie had a sense of something solid looming before her...a building of some kind? She heard a key turn loudly in a lock, a very old lock given the amount of noise it made.

A latch cracked into place, and a door creaked open. Immediately, a thick, musty smell flowed into Charlie's nostrils.

Without a word, the captors walked her toward that smell. The grass and dirt became a smooth surface underfoot once more, and Charlie knew she was no longer outside.

Someone closed the door behind her with an echoing crash. Charlie's footsteps echoed, too, and so did those of her captors as they escorted her onward. She was sure they were in a hallway or tunnel now, a high-ceilinged passageway with echoing acoustics in a musty old building.

They followed that route for twenty-five steps, then turned right into what felt and sounded like another passage. After sixteen more steps, they stopped. Charlie thought she sensed an obstacle ahead, like a wall...

Or a door. She heard one of her captors open it, though it made much less noise than the first one had. The others walked her through--five steps forward, crossing onto what sounded like metal flooring of some kind--and then they stopped again. The door shut behind them.

Finally, one of them spoke. "Here we are." It was the woman, leaning close to Charlie's right ear. "Time for your surprise, I think."

Charlie felt the woman take hold of her hood and swallowed hard. Her heart pounded like a string of firecrackers popping in rapid succession on Chinese New Year's Eve.

Because this was it. A moment from now, she would finally be face to face with Conscience. And not long after that, she had no doubt, he would end her misery the hard way.

As the woman lifted the hood, Charlie tensed and held her breath. When the hood was gone, she blinked hard as her eyes adjusted to the influx of light.

Then, she finally got a look at what lay before her.

She stood on a platform, a metal grate at the top a stairway of the same material. Gazing down from on high, she saw a huge, brightly lit room sprawled out around her.

One side of the cavernous chamber was lined with mirrors and filled with athletic equipment: punching bags, weightlifting gear, exercise machines, even a full-size boxing ring. The other side was divided into subsections, each made to look like a classroom, playground, school bus interior, or other familiar setting. Instead of mirrors, this side of the chamber was walled with huge whiteboards and flat-panel computer screens.

Between the two halves of the room was a wedge-shaped, sunken meeting area with a podium facing rows of chairs. Behind the podium, on another huge whiteboard, someone had scrawled, "Welcome Charlie West!"

Charlie took it all in, but that did nothing to dispel her confusion and dread. The only thought that landed decisively was this: that Conscience was involved in something much bigger than one sicko with a cellphone.

Then, a new idea took shape in Charlie's head. Was it possible that all this time, more than one person had been tormenting her in the guise of Conscience? If so, a new question sprang to mind: what did they want with her?

Knowing multiple people were involved, and they'd just escorted her into some kind of secret lair, felt more frightening than when the only thing she'd thought she had to deal with were threatening texts from that one single sicko.

"What do you think?" The woman captor gave Charlie's shoulder a light squeeze. "Not bad, huh?"

Charlie stood stiffly, wondering if she would ever leave this place alive. She was afraid to ask questions at first, because she might not like the answers...but then she managed to eke one out. "Where are we?"

"The Bunker," said one of the men. "Headquarters and training center all in one."

"For what?" asked Charlie. "Headquarters and training center for what?"

"A group that doesn't exist," said the man, and then he started down the stairs.

The woman steered Charlie to follow. Charlie resisted, quaking at the top of the stairway like a little kid on a high dive.

"Go ahead," the woman said soothingly. "You're safe here."

Charlie was having trouble believing promises from a woman in a black ski mask--but she was short on options at the moment. Taking hold of the metal railing, she slowly descended the stairs.

The woman and the other man followed her down. By the time they got to the bottom, the first man down had made his way to the meeting area in the middle of the room. As the others led Charlie toward him, he stood at the podium and watched their approach.

The woman guided Charlie over and signaled her to take a seat in the front row. Then, the woman and the man who'd escorted Charlie sat down on either side of her.

At which point, the man at the podium started talking. "Thank you for coming," he said, nodding at Charlie. "Our apologies for the disorienting way in which we reached out to you. I'm sure it was quite unnerving."

Charlie looked around as she listened, staying alert for surprises. It was only a matter of time until the other shoe dropped and Conscience--however many of him there might be--revealed whatever grisly fate was in store for her. Defenseless as Charlie was, there wouldn't be much she could do in that case...but still, she at least wanted to see it coming.

"It might be of some comfort to know that all our recruits have gone through something similar," said the man at the podium. "It's a necessity, given the secretive nature of our group. A group which, as far as the outside world is concerned, does not exist."

"What are you going to do to me?" Charlie surprised herself when she blurted it out. She hadn't planned to say anything that might make matters worse.

"Help you," said the man at the podium. "That's what we're going to do."

"By kidnapping me?" Again, Charlie's own words surprised her. "How's that helping?"

"We know about your situation," said the man. "And we can help."

"Really?" Charlie couldn't help sounding skeptical. She looked around, still expecting something awful to happen. "Help who?"

"You, Charlie." The woman reached over and patted Charlie's arm. "We want to help you stop Conscience."