Rainey’s every nerve was on high alert. She slowly rolled the Charger into the driveway. She parked right at the end, near the gravel road, blocking the exit of the old Jeep she saw parked under the carport. He could still drive through the thin carport walls, but at least he wasn’t coming back out the driveway. A door near the jeep was lit, by a single bare light bulb, and led into the house. Rainey opened the car door slowly. She took the phone from the clip on her hip and flipped it open. She now had control of the call on her cell. Just before she stepped out of the car, she ripped the small camera from above the mirror and threw it as far as she could from the car.

Sirens blared in the neighborhood nearby. Rainey watched the house for any signs of life. She listened to his breathing growing faster, on the phone, next to her ear. He was moving around again, probably watching her through the stained, faded sheers, in the windows.

“Come in the front door, its unlocked,” the excited little boy said.

Rainey eyed the side door again. She would rather go that way, less open yard to cross. The front door was lit by a yellow bug light that cast an amber glow across the lawn. Rainey would be out in the open, with no back up. He could just shoot her, but she knew he would not do that. This killer liked his victims up close and personal. No, he was waiting somewhere in there, holding Katie hostage. She took a few steps toward the front door. Through the heavy trees, on the south side of the house, she could see the faint flashes of blue and red lights. A helicopter was closing in on her position, but from the sound it was making, it was still a few miles away. If Rainey could just get to Katie, before he killed either of them, they might survive.

“Rainey, I have to hang up now so we can play the game, but you know what I thought would be fun?” he paused, and then added with a giggle, “If we played hide and go seek, in the dark.”

The lawn and house were plunged into darkness. There were no streetlights to cast a glow on the yard and the moon was in its darkest phase, not visible at all. It was pitch-black and Rainey was alone about to take on the psycho that nearly killed her. The connection ended with childish, sadistic laughter, ringing in her ear. Rainey flipped the phone shut and put it back on her hip mechanically. She crouched down instinctively and slowly removed the pistol from her waistband, bringing it around, aiming it in front of her.

Rainey tried to control the trembling and her breathing. She crossed the few remaining feet to the steps and shielded herself, her back against the side of the house, near the front door. Her flashlight was on her waist, so she pulled it out and clicked it on. Rainey tried the door handle behind the old screen door. It turned easily. She let go of the handle and the door slowly opened itself, creaking in a low slow whine all the way.

Rainey yanked the screen door open and rushed in, jerking the light to every corner of the front room. There was nothing there, but an old ripped up couch against one wall. Across the room from her, an open doorway led to the rest of the house. The trembling in her hands was growing worse. Rainey once told a fellow agent that Jodie Foster’s hands shook too much, when she was tracking the killer in the dark basement scene, in “Silence of the Lambs.” Rainey would have to change her mind about that, because her own hands shook uncontrollably and her breathing was shallow and fast.

Rainey had been in on the capture of some very sick and dangerous criminals, always remaining calm and in control throughout. However, this time it was different, she was not the only one hunting. In this dark house, Rainey was prey, too. She checked the floor in front of her and saw dusty footprints leading to the hallway. She followed them to the central part of the house, a passageway dominated by a staircase leading to the second floor. Partially opened doors, which led to the rest of the areas and rooms of the bottom floor, were seemingly all around her. There were so many places Katie could be and so many traps that could be waiting to be sprung. There were footprints going in and out of each doorway. Rainey would have to check them all. She listened to the house for a moment, trying to pick up any sound other than her own beating heart.

Rainey’s attention was snapped to the top of the stairs when she heard music begin playing on the second floor. It was a familiar tune somehow and then it came to her. It was the same music she vaguely remembered hearing, when he captured her the first time. Only she could never place the tune, because of the drugs he gave her. Now she could hear clearly it was a children’s song. A needle was scratching out an old warped recording of, “Hush a Bye Baby.” The playback speed fluctuated, giving the music a psychedelic trippy sound, because the only person who could appreciate it would have to be on acid or a stark raving lunatic. Guess who was upstairs?

Rainey moved quickly, shining the flashlight on every door she passed, pulling them closed, one by one. She did not want anything coming out of one of those rooms behind her without making some noise. Rainey reached the bottom of the stairs, pressing her back along the wall. The flashlight jerked everywhere, as she tried to make out anything, anything at all. The house had been shut up and empty for a while, she could smell it in the stale, hot air and see it in the dust, clouding into her beam of light. Rainey wiped away the sweat, now pouring from her forehead into her eyes, with the back of the hand holding the flashlight. Her light flashed widely about and then returned to the top of the stairs.

Rainey peered into the darkness surrounding the beam of light. She took the first step slowly, near the side, close to the wall, hopefully, preventing any sound from the old wooden stair. She made the first step with success, but the second step complained loudly, screeching under her weight. Rainey stopped to listen again. She checked the doors on the first floor once more, before proceeding to the third step. The music was loud and unsettling, a favorite FBI technique for disturbing hostage takers. The record played through and then, after a short pause, it started all over again. Rainey could hear the needle dropping on the record with a loud pop, then more scratches, followed by the children singing their warped lullaby.

Rainey took the next three steps quickly, stopped to listen again and thought she heard movement above her and to the left. She could not see yet, where it was coming from. She had seven more steps to go to reach the landing at the top of the stairs. Her blood was pumping through her body at an enormous rate. Rainey gripped the gun with both hands, still holding the flashlight, trying to reduce the uncontrollable shaking. She held them both out in front of her, as she made the next five steps rapidly. Her light searched everywhere above and below her, still no sign of movement.

Rainey stayed frozen there two steps from the top, she sensed he was very close to her. She heard a door creak open and then shut again. It was muffled, as if it had come from behind one of the closed doors on her left. The music was coming from a small Bose CD player, placed at the far end of the hall, behind her. From where she was standing, she could see that it was a simple floor plan. Four rooms, with doors set, one in front of her on the right, and one behind her around the stair banister, also on the right wall, both unopened. The other two doors, located on her left, were closed, as well. One of those two rooms on the left contained Katie and the killer she was hunting. Rainey was pretty sure it was the far one, when she heard the loud sound of something wooden hitting the floor hard.

Rainey took the last two stairs in one leap and was in front of the suspicious door in three steps. She quickly pressed her back against the wall that stood between the two doors. As she was about to test the door handle, she heard a loud thud from downstairs. She ran to the railing, in time to see a shadow flash past the stairs and toward the carport side of the house. She fired her weapon twice, but could not get a good angle on him. She knew it was Johnny. It was too big to be Katie.

Rainey tore around the banister and was on the first stair down, when she heard the only thing that could have stopped her, from chasing after the man who had raped her and scarred her for life.

“Rainey!” Katie screamed hoarsely, but weakly over the music. Her voice came from inside the room where Rainey had heard the wood hit the floor. Rainey forgot all about the man downstairs. She rounded the banister again and crashed through the door hiding Katie.

The beam of Rainey’s flashlight hit the bottom corner of the bed first, and then traced upward to find the ropes binding Katie’s right foot and then traveled up her naked body to her face. Rainey forgot all the rules about checking the corners and closets in the room. She rushed to Katie. The light searched Katie’s body for wounds or injuries. Katie was on her back, her legs and arms tied, just as Rainey had been. Her face red and swollen, already bruising from the beating she had taken, but there was no Y cut into her skin.

Katie was semi conscious, in and out while Rainey frantically cut the ropes from her limbs. In the moments when she was more aware of Rainey’s presence, Katie whispered, repeating, “You came for me… you came for me.”

“I’m here, Katie. Hold on baby, I’m getting you out of here,” Rainey whispered to the softly sobbing woman lying in front of her.

Rainey finished cutting Katie free. She flashed the light around the room, looking for something to cover Katie. There were no sheets on the plastic covered, oddly stained mattress Katie was lying on, so Rainey took her jacket off and wrapped Katie in it. She put the flashlight in her mouth and lifted Katie into her arms, while still holding the pistol in her hand. The smaller woman draped her arms around Rainey’s shoulders and buried her head into her neck and wept. Rainey was taking Katie out of this house, and she would blow a hole the size of Texas in anyone who tried to stop her. Rainey had almost taken the first step out of the room, when she heard a vehicle start, outside.

It must have been the old jeep parked under the carport. The vehicle came to life and roared away from the house. Katie lay limp in her arms, as Rainey approached the head of the stairs. She peered over the banister and saw nothing. She did not expect to. For some reason Johnny had given up the game and was escaping from the house, as she made her way down the stairs carrying Katie. The sound of a helicopter circling overhead grew louder. Rainey now heard sirens approaching and saw the emergency lights flashing, on the thin worn curtains covering the old glass panes downstairs. Johnny could have been scared off by the noises from outside, or may have seen the police coming through the upstairs windows.

Rainey was still aiming the flashlight with her mouth in every direction, steadily heading for the open front door. She reached the portal, kicked open the screen door and sprinted across the yard to her car, holding Katie tightly as she ran. The fuchsia-pink strobe lights, pulsing through the red flashing light bar, of a trooper’s car just coming up behind her Charger, split the dark like lightning in the sky. The helicopter overhead trained its powerful light on the two women by the car, blinding Rainey, as she tried to open the door of her car.

A young trooper burst from his vehicle, shotgun in hand, “Where is he?” he shouted over the noise from the helicopter.

The trooper was so excited, Rainey was glad she had the FBI hat on, or he might have shot her. She looked at him and yelled, “Help me open this fucking door!”

The trooper immediately ran to her side and opened the passenger door. Rainey shouted again, “Lift the seat; I need to put her in the back.”

He hesitated, questioning Rainey again, “Where’s the suspect?”

“He’s gone,” Rainey screamed at him, “Now, help me or get the fuck out of the way.”

The trooper did as he was told and then stood guard outside the car, while Rainey laid Katie down, covering her with the thin jacket as best she could. Vehicles from at least three law enforcement agencies were screeching to a halt in the road, in front of the house. Officers and agents were running and shouting in every direction.

Katie was cold and shivering, going into shock. Rainey kissed her on the forehead, whispering, “You’re safe now, Katie. The cavalry’s here.”

Rainey tried to stand up, but Katie reached for her, saying, “Don’t leave me.”

“I have to get you warm, I need to start the car, turn on the heater,” Rainey said, in the most soothing calm voice she could muster. She could now clearly see, in the light from the helicopter, as it continued to glare through the car windows, the bruising on Katie’s face and the thin, crooked lines of blood trickling from her swollen lips,

Katie lost consciousness again, which sent Rainey running around the car to the driver’s side, after closing the passenger door. The trooper watched her and then went back to guarding the car from the invisible offender. Rainey threw open the door, dove into the seat and started the car. She turned on the heat and revved the engine, trying to warm the car up quickly. After popping the trunk, Rainey got out and closed the door behind her. She found an old blanket she kept for cold nights on stakeouts. Rainey re-entered the car, closing the two of them inside. She lifted Katie, so she could sit in the back seat and hold her. She wrapped Katie in the blanket, hoping her added body heat would help warm the shivering woman in her arms.

Rainey whispered, “I love you, Katie,” repeating it in Katie’s ear, while she watched the men and women, in matching FBI jackets, descend on the house. An SUV took off across the grass fast, following the tracks left by the jeep. It disappeared down a muddy path that led back into the woods. The light from the helicopter led the SUV, as it tracked the jeep. The agents poured into the house. Rainey could see the beams of dozens of flashlights reflected through the windows.

No one seemed to realize Rainey and Katie were in the car. When she saw the paramedics approaching, she tapped on the window. The trooper, still on guard duty, opened the door and looked inside.

“Get the paramedics, she needs help, now!” Rainey shouted above the sirens and helicopter blades.

Two paramedics removed Katie from the car and placed her on a gurney. One of them covered her with a white sheet and took vital signs and hooked up monitors to Katie’s chest, while the other started a saline drip, put an oxygen mask over Katie’s mouth and nose and pulsox meter on her index finger. Then they began searching Katie for other injuries. Katie could only respond to their questions part of the time, mostly mumbling the answers, seeming to slip in and out from under the influence of drugs.

Rainey told the paramedic, “If he’s still using the same drugs, he shot her up with a mixture of pentobarbital, an opioid, and an anticholinergic.” Rainey knew this from reading her own medical reports. She also knew something else. She leaned into the paramedic’s ear, whispering, “She’s most likely been raped, too.”

Rainey had a good idea of what had gone on in that house, before she arrived. It would take Katie a long time to recover from this. Rainey’s only hope was that he had given Katie more drugs than he had given her, so Katie wouldn’t remember any of what happened to her. The doctors had told Rainey in the hospital, if he had given her just a little more of the mixture of drugs, she would not have remembered anything about her own attack. Rainey remembered thinking she wished he had given her more. She wished it for Katie now, but she also hoped he did not give her too much.

Katie, now covered from her neck to her toes, in the white sheet, with wires running to monitors everywhere, came out from under sedation for a moment and opened her eyes, long enough to see Rainey and recognize her, through only swollen slits, left from a fist smashing into her face. Her beautiful face was a mass of swollen lumps and abrasions. She slowly moved an unsteady hand out from under the sheet, reaching for Rainey.

Rainey took her hand and squeezed it tight. Katie pulled weakly on Rainey, until Rainey bent down, placing her ear near Katie’s mouth. Katie’s breathing was shallow and weak, under the oxygen mask. It was hard for her to speak, her voice thin, slurring the words, “Stay… with… me.”

“I won’t leave you, I promise,” Rainey said, and kissed the top of Katie’s head. Katie passed out again. She turned to the paramedic, “What’s wrong with her? She’s having trouble breathing.”

“It’s a side effect of the Pentobarbital, too much can cause respiratory depression. Her blood pressure is low. I’ve given her Narcon to counteract the effects. It will help, but we need to get her to the hospital now.”

Rainey said, “I’m going with her.”

The paramedic started to say something, but did not get the chance.

“I’m going with her,” Rainey said again, this time more firmly, with an edge in her tone.

There was no further argument. Katie was not going anywhere without Rainey. When the paramedics were ready for transport to Memorial Hospital, Rainey let go of Katie’s hand just long enough to reach back inside the Charger, retrieving the pistol she dropped earlier on the floor, behind the passenger seat, her FBI identification, in case she needed a way into Katie’s treatment room, and her car keys. She took the pistol and placed it in her waistband, checked to make sure she had an extra clip and then locked the car. She handed the keys to the trooper still guarding the car, even though no one was in it now. They would need to process the car for any evidence that could have fallen off of Katie or Rainey.

There was still a killer running loose out there and she was not going anywhere unarmed. The only reason she did not bring the shotgun was because she probably would not get into the hospital with it. She found her jacket being stuffed into an evidence-bag, and borrowed one from another agent. She slid it on to conceal the weapon poking out of her pants. Rainey took Katie’s hand back in hers, and walked with the gurney toward the back of the waiting ambulance.

Rainey had not had time to cry, but the let down from the adrenaline spike she had just experienced was making it hard to fight back the tears. She was relieved to have Katie alive, but the wretchedness of what she had been through enveloped Rainey, sending waves of throbbing pain across her chest.

Rainey heard Danny calling her name. He was running after them, shouting for her to stop. She did not care and kept walking. He could take her statement later. Rainey was taking Katie to the hospital. Katie was her only priority. The FBI could go fuck itself for all she cared. Katie was safe with her now, and Rainey would remain by her side, forever watching over her, giving her time to heal. If she had ever doubted it, she knew now that Katie was the love of her life and the only thing that would ever matter to her, for the rest of Rainey’s days.