“America seems to be going down a terrible path,” the article read. “More than four hundred sixty thousand children are in foster care, over two thousand children die each year due to child abuse, and over 2.8 million cases of child abuse are called in each year.”
As James Moore read the daily news, he came to a conclusion. He needed to help his country get back on track. But how? He was only a waiter at a local restaurant.
He knew he was smart. So he went with his gut and began to formulate a plan.
********************
“Hey, watch out, Squirt!” Paul shouted as I got pegged in the back of the head with a football.
I took a moment to gather my breathing so I didn’t accidentally commit murder or something. I threw on a fake smile and kept walking. I had homework to do, and I would not turn it in late again because of those pesky boys.
I opened the front door and slipped inside, trying not to alert anyone of my presence. Mr. and Mrs. Scott were nice enough, but they tended to talk; a lot.
I made it to my “room” before I heard Paul and Peter charge indoors. I was hoping they would stay outside a while longer so I could have some peace and quiet. I wiped a loose strand of my black hair out of my face as I sat down on my bed with my homework.
“Hey, Logan!” Mrs. Scott called.
I sighed. She must have seen me come in. I made my way to the kitchen.
“Yes, Mrs. Scott?”
“Oh, honey, you know you don’t have to call me that! Too formal. I’m Carrie to you.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, would you run to the store? We’re all out of milk.”
“Of course,” I replied reluctantly. In most foster homes, I wasn’t trusted to go off on my own, but in that house, I had basically all the freedom I wanted as long as I was home by eight.
“Oh, and pick up some cereal. We ran out of Raisin Bran this morning.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Here’s twenty dollars. Buy yourself something nice with the change.” She smiled at me so I smiled back.
I really hate grocery shopping. But these people were letting me live in their house.
I returned to my room and pulled on my combat boots over my miss-matched socks. I’d had those boots since I was thirteen. My feet hadn’t grown much. I grabbed my leather jacket and threw it over my shoulder.
I began the fifteen minute walk to the store, shielding myself against the cold as best I could. At least I was out of the house and away from my foster brothers.
I walked alone for about ten minutes and I could finally see my destination.
I pressed the button at the traffic light, waiting for it to say that I could cross.
Two men walked up behind me. I gave them a small smile. I tapped my foot impatiently. I didn’t like waiting. It made me nervous.
A lone car drove by and out of sight. The roads were empty and there were no other pedestrians on the sidewalk.
The men looked at each other. One nodded. I got chills on the back of my neck.
They grabbed my arms.
“Help!” I screamed. But there was no one there to hear me.
I shoved my elbow back into the man on my right. It hit him in the gut and turned to knee the other man in the groin.
The one I elbowed had recovered and he grabbed me again. This time, I didn’t see a way to get free.
A cloth was placed over my mouth and I tried not to breath, but it was too late. I passed out.
********************
I woke up in a strange, dark place. I could see one window, set up like we were in a basement, and not much light came through it. It smelled musty. The floor was concrete. I hit the wall I was leaning on with my elbow. Metal.
I had no idea where I was, or who was in the room with me. There was another boy who seemed to be my age beside me, unconscious. I guessed I got drugged first, seeing as I was the first one up.
I tried to stand, but was automatically pulled back down by the handcuff around my wrist. My head was still out of sorts. I couldn’t really think straight.
The boy next to me stirred a bit. He had curly brown hair, and from what I could see, he probably wasn’t from a rich family. He had on a pair of jeans and a graphic t-shirt.
“Hey,” I whispered as I lightly shook his shoulder. “Wake up.”
His eyes opened and he shook his head.
“Morning, Ace,” I said. He sat up.
“Who- who are you?” he asked as he rubbed his eyes.
“Name’s Logan. You?”
“Aiden,” he replied. “Where are we?”
“No idea.”
“Great.” He sat up a bit and rubbed his head. “So, Logan. Do you have any idea where we are?”
“A basement of some kind. Storm shelter maybe. Only the one window, and I’m betting that door is locked.”
“You seem like you know what you’re doing,” he said. “Why does my head hurt so badly?”
“Don’t know.” I tried to see his forehead, but the lighting was terrible. “Come closer.”
“What?”
“Come closer.”
He warily came closer to me, and I pulled his head where I could see it.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Checking your head for wounds.” I ran my fingers over his head.
He gasped as my finger ran over the back of his head.
“Found it,” I said.
“I gathered that.” He let out a nervous laugh. “So what are we doing here?”
“No idea.” I looked around for something I could use to pick a lock. I ran my hand through my hair and found a bobby pin. I began to work on opening my handcuff.
“What’cha doing?” he asked, still quite close to me.
“Picking a lock. You?”
“Observing you picking a lock.”
“Great. Is it fun?”
“It’s quite interesting.”
“Good to know I can keep you entertained. Got it!”
The door opened and I snapped my handcuff shut again. Two men appeared over the threshold. Both seemed rather strong. I decided that there was no way Aiden or I could take them.
“Who are you?” I asked.
They didn’t answer.
“Where are we?”
No reply.
One of them grabbed my arm and the other grabbed Aiden’s.
“Hey!” I shouted. His grip was quite tight. “That hurts!” I realized this was the man I kneed where it hurts.
“I hope so.” He gave a cruel laugh.
The two dragged us into the hall. I counted how many doors we passed on either side. There were ten, including ours which was at the back of the hall. They led us into a big gymnasium, which kind of confused me. We were in a bunker or basement. Why would there be a gym?
Chairs were set up in a circle in the middle of the court. The floor was worn down, and the paint was coming off. The same was true for the paint on the walls. There were two exits; the way we came, and a hallway directly to the right of it. The windows were too far up to reach without some kind of ladder. From the light coming through the windows, I guessed it was probably evening. They had kidnapped me in the morning. How long had I been out?
“Sit down and shut up,” one of the men instructed as they pushed us roughly into a seat. Two more men holding a kid each entered the gym. The girl was crying. The boy was trying to look tough, but failing.
They were pushed into seats as well. I took a count. Ten chairs. So there were ten of us. Why?
“Who are you?” Aiden asked the girl, trying to comfort her.
“M-my name i-is Lilly,” the girl said in between sobs.
“And you are?” he asked the boy.
“Griffin,” he replied. “Who are you?”
“I’m Aiden, and that’s Logan,” Aiden said.
“Where are we?”
I took a deep breath. “Some kind of basement or bunker. It looks as if it might have been a school that was for some reason built underground. As to where we actually are, I can’t tell. It’s evening, told by the light coming in from the windows. There are two exits. That door,” I said as I pointed to the door we were dragged through. “And that door.” I pointed to the hallway next to it. “And there are ten of us.”
“Ten? There are only four of us here,” Lilly pointed out.
“Count the chairs.”
She took the time to count. “Nine, ten…”
“Let me go!” a voice screamed through the hall.
“Be quiet!” A man dragging a girl entered the gym. He threw her into one of the chairs and both she and the seat toppled to the ground. I hopped up without a second thought and helped her up.
“Someone’s being polite!” I shouted after the man as he continued back to the hall. “Learn how to treat a kid right!”
All four men reentered, pulling kids behind them.
Everyone was put into a seat. I stood in the middle after I helped the girl back to her seat. “Why are we here?” I demanded. “What do you want with us?”
None of them answered. They gave me fleeting glances before finding a spot and standing still. All the chairs were full except mine.
A new man entered from the second hallway. He had a brown mop of hair and dark brown eyes to match. He was wearing a uniform of some kind, like a waiter’s outfit. He looked like your typical waiter. In fact, he looked familiar.
“Well done, men. This is everyone I asked for?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” the four others said in unison.
“Where are the caretakers?”
One of the men began to protest. “Mr. Moore-“
“Mr. Davis. Bring in the caretakers,” Moore commanded.
The men nodded and walked out.
Moore turned to us with a smile. “Welcome to my project!” he declared. “You ten children are here for a purpose.”
“Do you mind telling us?” I asked angrily. “Why are we here?”
“Patience, my child.” He gave me a reassuring smile. “All of you need to get to know one another. So, beginning with the lovely girl not in her seat, we’re going to introduce ourselves. Give us your first and last name, and age.” He waved his hand at me, encouraging me to continue.
“Bite me,” I told him.
“Now, child, that’s no way to treat your begetter,” he scolded me.
“Begetter?” I demanded. “Begetter means ‘creator’. You are not my creator.”
“See, I knew I picked you for a reason!” he said, using his hands to portray his excitement. “You are a smart one! Observant, intelligent. I’m glad I picked you to be the delegate!”
“Delegate? I’m a representative? For who?”
“For the others here, of course!” He laughed. “But I’ll explain all of that later.”
“What do you mean when you say you picked us?” I asked.
“Introduce yourself and take a seat.”
“No.”
His smile slowly disappeared. “What did you say to me?” he demanded. “You will learn quickly not to deny my demands or you will be punished. Introduce yourself and sit down.”
I really didn’t want to test him. I mean, he had kidnapped ten children and who knows how many others. “Logan Cooper. Fifteen.” I took my seat.
“You next,” Moore said as he pointed to the girl helped up.
“Madison Cooley. Fifteen.”
“Introduce yourselves clockwise.”
“Griffin O’Donnell. Fifteen.”
“Dakota Lanning. Fifteen.”
“Walter Jones. Fifteen.”
“I’m Beth Fuller, fifteen.”
“Jenny Stanberry. Fifteen.”
“Lilly Owenton. Fifteen.”
“Aiden Finch. Fifteen.”
“Anyone else notice a pattern?” Mr. Moore asked. He looked pointedly at me.
“We’re all fifteen,” Walter and I said in sync.
“Good job, children.” Mr. Moore said with a smirk.
The four men returned with five women in their grasps.
“Ah! Thank you,” Mr. Moore said. “These women are your caretakers. Let me explain the plan for the next five years.”
“Five years?” I demanded.
“Yes. Five years.” He began to pace the room, one hand behind him, the other to his chin. “I am going to pair you up with a member of the opposite gender. When I call your name, you will stand where you are.” He pulled a list from his pocket. “Alright, then. Walter Jones.”
Walter got up slowly.
“Beth Fuller.” She stood as well. “You two are now partners. Boyfriend-girlfriend relationship kind of thing.”
“So you’re basically setting up couples?” I asked.
“If you want to put it that way.” He sighed. “I’m also teaching you to be good parents.”
“Good parents?” Aiden said questioningly.
“You know, most children get scared and frightened when they are snatched from their homes,” the man I kneed where the sun doesn’t shine said.
“Well, Mr. Martinez, these children are special. And see, that girl,” Moore said as he pointed to Lilly, “is quite afraid.”
She was still trying to stop crying. Aiden comforted her.
“Dakota Lanning.” He stood. “Madison Cooley.” She came and stood next to him, sizing up her partner. “You two will be together.” The two took their seats again.
“Griffin O’Donnell. Lilly Owenton. You two are a couple. Steven Jennings and Jennifer Stanberry. You two are together.”
“That means…” I said as I turned to look at Aiden.
“You’ve guessed correctly,” Moore said. “Aiden Finch and Logan Cooper.”
“What do you mean when you say you are going to teach us to be better parents?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you eventually. But not yet. Now, each couple is being assigned a caretaker.” Moore waved the five women over. Each of them seemed to be over the age of fifty. Scared. I had guessed they were probably abducted, also.
“Marie Morales,” Moore called. “You are assigned to Mr. Jones’ family.”
“Family?” I said questioningly.
“Yes. This is your family. Eventually, more will be added, but for now, it’s you and him.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up.” I stood and my boots clicked against the floor. “What do you mean more will be added to our ‘families’?” I used air quotes when I said families.
“You ask a lot of questions!” he pointed out. “You’ll learn soon enough. Patience.”
“Patience has never been one of my strengths.”
“I noticed.” He gave me a smirk, saying he knew more than I did. And I didn’t like not knowing. “Linda Reed. You are assigned to Mr. Lanning’s family. Jane McNeal is assigned to Mr. O’Donnell’s. Kim Haddock will watch over Mr. Jennings’ family. And Paula Barhorst is assigned to Mr. Finch’s. Any questions?”
“If I ask, will you answer?” I asked.
He smirked and walked away. Before he entered the hallway, he turned to me. “Is that answer enough?” He gave a hearty laugh, which was a bit unsettling. “Take them to their rooms. It’s bed time.”