Silent Run

you’re right. We have to find Caitlyn. And I’ll do whatever it takes to accomplish that.” Opening her door, she got out and waited on the sidewalk for Jake to join her. A man came out of an apartment building across the street with his dog on a leash. He headed away from them, and Sarah let out a sigh of relief. She felt tense and on edge, acutely aware that there could be danger anywhere, from anyone, and she had to be ready.
    They walked down the street and up to the main door of the apartment building. It was locked. There was a row of buzzers next to a speaker.
    â€œDeputy Manning said that the people in Margaret Bradley’s apartment didn’t know her or you; at least, they didn’t know anyone by the name Sarah Tucker,” Jake said. “But we might as well start with them.” He pushed the buzzer for apartment 310. When no one answered he tried the landlord. No response.
    Sarah felt more uncomfortable with each passing minute. They were too vulnerable out in the open. “Maybe we should come back later. It’s the middle of a workday. No one is home."
    â€œSomeone has to be home,” Jake said, moving down the list of buzzers.
    â€œThey’re not going to let in a stranger."
    â€œThey might."
    A moment later a young couple came through the front door. They were each so busy talking on their cell phones that they didn’t give Jake or Sarah a second look. Jake caught the door before it shut. “After you,” he said. “We finally got a break."
    â€œThose two didn’t recognize me,” she said, following him into the building.
    â€œNor did they care who we were. So much for living in a secure building."
    â€œWhere are we going now?"
    â€œThird floor. Might as well start at the top."
    As they approached the steel doors of the elevator, Sarah hung back, her stomach clenching with fear. “I can’t go in there,” she said shortly, her chest tight.
    â€œIn where?"
    â€œThe elevator. I can’t go in that elevator.” She backed away as an image flashed before her eyes.
    She was holding two bags of groceries. The metal doors were closing, but at the last second a man’s hand came around the edge of the door. He slipped inside. She’d seen him before .
    A silent scream of terror ran through her. She began to shake.
    Jake grabbed her arm, forcing her to look at him. “Sarah, what’s wrong? Sarah, talk to me."
    The elevator doors opened, and she bit down on her lip so hard she tasted blood. The open elevator revealed graffiti on the back wall, but otherwise it was empty.
    â€œI’ve been in there before -- in that elevator,” she said. “A man got in just as the doors were closing. I don’t know what happened next.” She put a hand to her mouth as waves of terror washed through her. Something bad had happened in that elevator. “I can’t get in there. I can’t."
    â€œOkay, all right. Take it easy,” Jake said in soothing tones. “There’s no one there now. But we’ll go up the stairs."
    She nodded, drawing in several deep breaths to slow her pounding heart. Jake pushed open the door to the stairwell.
    â€œThe good news is that you remembered being in this building,” he said. “That’s the most specific memory you’ve had so far. It’s a good sign."
    She tried to feel happy about it, but the flashback had only brought back the fear she’d felt when the man in the hospital had tried to smother her. She’d fought for her life before. What had she done to make someone want to kill her?
    When they reached the top floor, Jake began knocking on doors. They didn’t have any success until they got to the last door. Sarah’s heart skipped a beat as they heard footsteps.
    â€œOh, my God!” someone said in surprise.
    Then the dead bolt turned with a decisive click and a woman opened the door. She appeared to be in her twenties and was dressed in black Lycra shorts and a tank top, her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She gave Sarah a broad, relieved smile. “Where have you been, Samantha?” the woman asked. “I was so worried about you.”

Chapter Ten

    â€œSamantha?” Sarah echoed in surprise. “Why did you call me Samantha?"
    â€œThat’s your name,” the woman replied, the smile on her face slowly fading. Her eyes narrowed. “What’s going on? Your face is all bruised and cut