Taken: A Christopher Lance Thriller

  I didn’t think much of the girl yelling at first but the second call was loud and shrill. I scanned the room to see if other patrons noticed the ruby-faced girl yelling as if she warned of a fire but no one did. The entire foyer was quiet except for her shouts for Gabrielle but no one seemed to care except me.

  “Gabrielle Toms,” she said again. The name still didn’t register in my overheated brain.

  Staring in the same direction as the girl, I heard her yell again and then another young girl came running from the Heroes of the Wild West exhibit. She skipped and bounced toward the entranceway just like …and then it hit me hard like a blow to the gut, and I was down on my knees. She looked like my Bre. It was like being transported back to Harmony when the resilient girl I called my best friend still laughed out loud.

  Her path to the door led her in front of me. “Gabrielle,” I said, mustering up some breath and managing a smile. “Are you selling season passes also?”

  “How’d you know my name?” She asked with her head tilted to the right. I seemed to remember that my Bre tilted her head to the left. But that was the only difference, the bright eyes, the flowing hair, bronze completion, the button nose that flared up ever so slightly, were all the same.

  “I heard your friend call your name. I bought a season pass from her and then realized I needed another for my friend. Could you sell me one?”

  “Sure, that’ll make seven I’ve sold today. I’m going to be sure to win the camera at this rate, a twelve mega-pixel digital.”

  “I could use that camera myself,” I said with a chuckle as I reached into my pocket for the money. I pulled out a five dollar bill, some lent, and receipt from the Hallmark card shop. “I’m sorry. I guess this isn’t going to cut it.” I smiled at the girl and I showed her the contents of my hand.

  “That’s all right. We’re going to be here all week,” she said.

  “Okay then, I’ll buy one tomorrow.”

  “Gabrielle, come on. My and Michelle’s mom are waiting out here,” The ruby-faced girl said.

  Gabrielle turned to run toward the door and then stopped. “You’ve got to buy it from me though. Promise?”

  I nodded and then she turned and ran. I watched little Gabrielle until she disappeared through the door as if she was an aberration and I was on a desert island. She was here and now she was gone. I thought to run after her, scared that I’d been granted one last chance to see my friend again by the same unyielding power that had hounded me for the past fifteen years.

  I inched backwards until my back was flat against the wall. I imagined how my face would have looked if anyone had paid attention to me. The disbelief and confusion would be clear as if those words were written on my face. I slid down the wall and sat exhausted. I focused on the spot where Gabrielle Toms stood in front of me, still thirteen years old — time had stood still for her. Then, I closed my eyes and thought to myself — like a shadow from the grave.