Muted Trilogy: Mute Part 22

"And was everyone on that list able to Talk? If they were watching us instead of just taking, it might not be a given," he sent.

"We don't have much time, do we?" Jemma slowed as they approached the car. "Between Marcia coming to the library, our names being given to her, our coming to talk to Kendall like this... They're going to take us soon."

Jemma felt oddly calm, almost resigned, tired of being scared, tired of not knowing, until Jack sent disagreement.

"No. They're going to try to, yes," he sent, letting go of her hand when they reached the car, "but we're watching. We're ready. And we'll be even more ready before they try." He cupped her cheek, and she leaned into the touch. "We're not gonna go down without a fight, as cliche as that sounds." He watched her until she nodded, then he dropped his hand and got in the car, and she moved around to get in the driver's side.

"You're right," she said, trying to picture her family struggling to deal with her disappearance. "We'll fight."

Jack sent a solid wave of agreement. "We should probably stay together tonight," he added. "Make things harder for them. You can take the guest room again."

"All right," sent Jemma. "The lightsaber night light will help me get into fighting mode."

Jack sent appreciation, and Jemma started the car, shifted into drive, and pulled away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN:.

Ties We're not going to make it for dinner tonight. Sorry, Mom. Love you.

Resisting the urge to add more, Jemma sent the text, set her phone down, and looked around the library. There were a few more patrons than normal for a Tuesday afternoon, and a couple of them had mentioned trying to come the day before and finding the library closed. According to Cecily, employee instructions were to avoid mentioning the abduction in order to avoid scaring away the patrons.

"It feels so weird," Jemma sent Jack, "being at work, pretending everything is normal when the world is falling apart around us."

Jack sent a wave of agreement. "I've been trying to get into the blood bank's system, but they've got some major network security going on. I think this is a dead end."

"We finally found a link, though," she sent. "We can't just ignore it."

"And we won't. I'm checking employees, too, the ones I could track down. I figured out which one went missing." Jack sent a link via messenger, making Jemma's computer chime. The link opened a Facebook profile for Davis Powell, an average-looking man in his thirties. "They don't have too big a staff, not in the actual clinic, and I figured if Marcia was able to find him, he probably had a bit of an online presence. Much of his profile is private, but wall posts are public, and friends and family are looking for him."

"He has kids," sent Jemma, scrolling through his profile. "I wonder what made him risk sending those texts."

"Maybe he's one of us, or maybe he's just a good person who saw a chance to avoid more people going missing. We don't really have a way to know right now."

Jemma glanced around again to make sure n.o.body was approaching, then closed the Facebook profile, staring unseeing at the default desktop image. If she went missing, if they couldn't stop this, she wouldn't have people posting to her Facebook page. Her mom didn't care for public posts for anything important, and her dad avoided Facebook at all costs. Jilly read anything Jemma posted but typically avoided interacting publicly with her older sister. They would worry, though. Carolyn worried over so many things, and Jemma's complete disappearance would wreck her.

Jack's father, too, would probably be worried. He had the person who took care of him when Jack wasn't there, but would he be able to function without Jack? What if the stress was too much for him?

"We need to figure something out with our families," Jemma sent. "We can't just disappear, but we can't tell them what's going on."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that. I made arrangements for more help with Dad if I'm not there. They have my account information, so any extra charges from additional shifts, they won't be a problem."

"What are they going to think? If we can't stop this, if we go missing in the next few days or weeks..."

As if on cue, Jemma's phone buzzed with a text from Carolyn.

Okay. Is everything alright? I'd really like to see you.

Jemma ran a hand through her hair and then looked up, jumping when she saw a patron ready to check out.

"Sorry," the woman typed with a small smile, "didn't mean to scare you."

Jemma forced a smile as she responded.

"No worries! I wasn't paying attention like I should have been. Did you find everything okay?"

"Actually, I was hoping you could help me find one more book."

Jemma quickly helped the patron locate the book, which had been misshelved nearby. She checked out the woman's books, then helped the next few people who had lined up at the circulation desk. By the time she was finished, the library had cleared out a bit, and it looked more like a normal Tuesday, with just a few people milling about, one patron parked solidly in front of the travel section.

"We could take a trip," she sent Jack, tone laced with enthusiasm. "I mean, not really, but that's what we could say."

Jack sent a lack of understanding.

"If we tell our family we're, I don't know, taking a cruise, right? Or in another country where our phones won't work? That'll buy some time that they won't worry about us," she sent. "And then it'll make sense that you set up more helpers for your dad. It works."

"That's brilliant. We tell them we're looking for last-minute tickets and might not get a chance to let them know them we're leaving."

"Mom might be a little annoyed if I don't take a minute to send a text as we're leaving, but I'd rather her be a little annoyed than worried out of her mind." Jemma paused. "What do I tell work, exactly? I mean, I have to hope we'll be back eventually, and I don't want to burn any bridges."

"Leave a note, somewhere Cecily doesn't usually look but would probably check if you didn't show for work. Do you have a cubby or something in the staff room?"

"I do. I think that'll work." Jemma grabbed a piece of paper and a pen.

Dear Cecily, Jemma stopped. "We're a.s.suming we're going to be kidnapped, Jack." She felt the distress lacing her tone, but she didn't bother to disguise it. "I'm writing a letter so that my former boss doesn't worry if I disappear completely without warning. How is this okay?"

"It's not okay," sent Jack, his tone holding frustration and rea.s.surance. "We're going to do whatever we can to prevent it, but you're completely right that we need this all in place, just in case. It's smart, and it shows how much you care about people."

"That's not something I hear a lot. I've been called cold more than once." Jemma tapped the pen against the paper to keep her hand from shaking.

"You just interact a little differently than most. It doesn't mean you don't care. How you tried to comfort Kendall last night, how you help me when I'm upset? You care, more than many people do."

She rubbed her arm with her free hand. "Okay," she sent finally, unsure how to respond. "I'm going to finish writing this, and then we need to figure out how we're going to keep anyone from ever needing to read it."

Jack sent silent acknowledgment along with determination and something like affection, and Jemma focused her attention back on the mostly blank page, stopping before the pen touched paper.

"I can't do it," she sent, finally. "We should still leave notes, I think, but I can't... If we don't come back, I can't let a lie be my last communication with my family. It isn't right."

"Fair point. But we still don't think it's safe to tell them the truth right now, right? And if we wait until after we're gone, will the truth really make it easier on them?"

"In the event that we... I think they need to know at least some of the truth, that we aren't leaving because we want to, that we're not disappearing indefinitely for fun."

"We could leave notes for our parents with the one for Cecily," sent Jack. "But what do we write? How much do we say?"

"Let me think a moment."

She tapped the pen against the counter, then resumed writing.

If you're reading this, Jack and I have vanished. We don't want to give too much information in case it puts you or our families in danger, but we didn't leave by choice.

We don't have enough information to go to the police, who aren't able to help even when there is some proof, but we're sure that we're at risk.

If we're able to return, we will as soon as we can. I'm including letters for my family and for Jack's father. Could you please deliver them? My parents' address is on file, and Jack's is in the patron records.

Regretfully, Jemma Jemma put down the pen and covered her face, then ran both hands through her hair, taking a deep breath and releasing it. She relayed the message to Jack, who acknowledged it, and she got another sheet of paper.

Mom, Dad, and Jilly, I'm sorry you're reading this. Jack and I are gone, but we have reason to believe we're okay, just not able to communicate. We didn't tell you sooner because we didn't want you to worry, and because we thought it would put you in danger. With us gone, though, they should leave you alone.

I'm sorry I can't say more.

Love, Jemma She folded both letters, writing Cecily's name on one and her parents' names on the other.

"My letter for Dad should be printing at the desk," sent Jack, his mental tone lacking its usual energy. The printer started as if on cue. When it was done, she took that letter, too, folding it and addressing it to Don.

"Got it," she sent. "I'm going to put these away now."

Jemma checked to make sure n.o.body needed help, then she went to the staff room and put the letters in her cubby, writing face-down, placing a paperback she kept in her cubby atop the letters to keep them from blowing away and to ensure they weren't read if they weren't needed. She pulled out her phone as she walked back to the circulation desk, replying to her mother's text before Carolyn could worry.

We're okay, Mom. We just have some things we need to do tonight.

"Okay, Jack," she sent. "What can we do to make these just precaution? Any ideas?"

"Well, there's the blood bank," he sent. "I'm not having any luck getting to it from here, but maybe..." He paused, some discomfort seeping through.

Jemma's phone buzzed. "One sec," she sent, stopping to read the text.

Okay. Come by soon, though, all right?

We'll try, replied Jemma. Love you.

"What did you have in mind?" she sent Jack, setting her phone under the desk. "I'm getting the feeling I'm not going to like it."

"Probably not," he agreed. "It isn't something I would normally suggest, not something I'm really comfortable with myself."

"Just say it, Jack," sent Jemma.

"We can break into the blood bank and find their hardcopy files, giving us the other names and maybe even a reason for all this."

Jemma blinked and then closed her eyes. It wasn't actually that much of a stretch, breaking in physically when they'd already been willing to break in digitally. Still, though, she felt much safer in the library than she would breaking and entering into a strange place.

Perhaps not so surprisingly.

"What do you think?" sent Jack, caution lacing his tone. "I've been trying to think of other options, any alternative other than doing nothing and just waiting to be taken as Kendall seems willing to do."

"I need to think this through a bit," sent Jemma.

"Of course."

"Speaking of Kendall, though, have you checked in on her today?" sent Jemma, rubbing her arm. "I know she said she would let us know when she was willing to talk, but..."

"Not yet," sent Jack. "I was wanting to check on her, too. Should we go ahead and do that?"

"Yes, let's." Jemma focused on both Kendall and Jack. "Hey, Kendall, are you doing okay?"

There was no response.

"Kendall?" tried Jack.

"I'm going to try just her," sent Jemma, waiting for Jack's acknowledgment before she tuned him out and focused on just her connection with Kendall.

Or at least, she tried to.

"I can't find her, Jack. It's like I know I'm knocking on the right door, but n.o.body's there."

"Same. I can tell where her connection is, but I can't... connect." Jack's tone was frustrated and worried.

"Do you think she..." Jemma trailed off, taking a deep breath. "Either she's blocking us or she's been taken. This is what it felt like when Marcia's connection cut out."

"We can check on her tonight," sent Jack, "but I think we have to a.s.sume she was taken."

"That means we don't have much time," sent Jemma. "If they took Kendall, they have to know that we know everything she does. I don't know why they haven't taken us yet."

"We have to a.s.sume we're on borrowed time," sent Jack. "So what are we going to do with the time we have?"

Jemma had never really had a good answer when asked what she would do if she knew it was her last day on earth. Some of her best options had included curling up with a good book on her parents' couch while her family was nearby, spending the day in the library, or curling up alone with a book under a shady tree. Now she would probably want Jack around, too, but she didn't really have time to examine that desire too closely. Instead, though she didn't know whether it would be a full day or not, she was being presented with one of the few questions she'd never really known how to answer, and this time, it wasn't rhetorical.

How did she want to spend the rest of her time, knowing it was limited?

She flashed through various scenarios before settling on the only answer that worked for her: she would spend the rest of her time trying to make sure it wasn't the only time she had.

"We'll do it," she sent finally. "We'll take our chances and break into the blood bank."

"Shiny," quoted Jack, his tone laced with desperation and hope and humor at his attempt to lighten the mood. "Let's be bad guys."

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT:.

Action "So how do we even go about starting to make a plan for this?" asked Jemma, pacing in front of Jack's couch.