Near the footwear were numerous shoeprints and indentations, going in and out of the sandy area of the beach to the asphalt.
"Something's wrong," George warned Amy. "Run to the others and call the police."
"Why?" Amy asked.
"Emma might be in trouble," the boy gravely replied as he jogged to the road. "Now, go! Time is of the essence."
"How about you?" Amy yelled.
"I'll try to track Emma," came the response.
Amy hurried to their housing area, Emma's sandal in hand, and woke up every sleeping batchmate, frantically telling them about what happened. The police were contacted and were told of the situation. Meanwhile, George followed the tracks. He hoped that Emma would be able to communicate in some way what direction she was taken.
The prints tell of how Emma was taken captive. As she was going to retrieve her jacket, two or three people managed to get near the girl and take hold of her. She was dragged a bit while the accomplice or accomplices checked if they were not seen. Along the process, one of Emma's sandals slipped off her foot. The captors carried her to their getaway vehicle, probably the one George moments ago. By the looks of it, they planned to go for stealth instead of speed.
"They haven't gone far," George thought. "I can catch up if I make it quick." He then ran to the direction he heard the car go to, hoping to meet someone with a means of transport. Fortunately, that someone came in the form of an old man riding a bicycle. With relief and desperation, the boy flagged the bicycle.
"Sir!" He yelled, waving his arms wildly. The elderly man stopped in front of him. "Sir, I need your bike. It's an emergency."
"For what, son?" The man asked. "What are you doing this late at night? You seem to something."
"I am," George affirmed. "A friend of us is in serious trouble. Have you seen any vehicle pass through here?"
"Well, there were two trucks, a jeepney, a black pick-up and a white SUV."
A white SUV? I saw one when we came here. It's not a coincidence.
"When did you meet the SUV?" George asked.
"Some twenty, thirty minutes ago?"
"Please sir, your bike. I have to use it to give chase." George implored the old man yet again.
"Alright, alright. Take it. Chase them, while I go contact the police. It's a good thing my legs are still strong. You take care."
After thanking the man and instructing him to go to the Roblezes' resort, George pedalled like hell, despite the road going mostly downhill, making him speed up more. He met other vehicles, some which he almost ran into, but he disregarded the danger anyway. This went on for about half an hour, when he heard the faint roar of an engine.
Yes! I was right. They didn't run on full power.
His jubilation was cut short when he reached a junction.
"Damn!" The boy growled, halting the bike. At that moment, he saw the other pair of Emma's sandal on the left road.
Good job, Emma.
George then quickly got off the bike, gathered some rocks and piled them beside the left road, with Emma's sandal on top. Hopefully, whoever's following him wouldn't miss it.
As he continued along the road, George passed by a non-assuming hut. He pulled on the breaks. Maybe it was due of adrenaline or the fact that nobody was around, but he stopped because he heard muffled cries coming from inside the hut.
After parking the bike at the roadside, George stealthily crept to the hut's side, where he bore a hole. George felt hot with rage, despite the cool salty air outside, when he saw the scene inside. In the middle of the hut, were three masked men surrounding a post. Tied to that post, was Emma, gagged but defiant.
Trying to calm down, he assessed the situation. A man wearing a red shirt was shirt was standing in front of the bamboo door. Another, a bald one, was seated at Emma's right. Finally, the third man was standing near a closed window.
A plan came to mind, but he had to do it quickly. Every second counts. He picked up a stone and hurriedly tiptoed to the door.
This is it.
With full strength, kicked the bamboo door, letting it smack right into Red Shirt. The door hit he back of the man's head, knocking him down. Without waiting for a reaction, George turned to the bald man's direction and threw the stone towards the face.
He missed.
George charged at the bald man's chest. This time, the rage-filled teen managed to hit the bald man squarely in the stomach with his right knee, stunning the man for a few seconds and making bend over. This was enough for George to connect another knee hit, this time to the man's face. While this was happening, the man near the window lunged at George. Unlike his companions, the man was twice as big as any of them. George prepared himself to for a scrap when the man spoke.
"Dude!" The man exclaimed, as he took of his mask. George did not recognize the man in front of him. Hehad a slight mustache. His eyes were wide in indignation and surprise."Why'd you hit them? This wasn't part of the deal?
"What deal?" George shot back. His hands were still clenched, ready to throw a punch."What the hell were you doing with her?"
"It was a prank! Someone called –" The man started to explain but was cut short when sirens were heard from a distance.
The police promptly came after some time. By then, George had already untied Emma. She was behind her best friend, a little shaken with fright. The two were brought in along with the three men for questioning. The police admonished George for his rash actions, while the tree men were interrogated. It was found out that they were professional "kidnappers-for-hire". They claimed that someone called them in with an offer to "kidnap" Emma as a prank and were assured that the client knew Emma. There were documents presented, but was it later determined that the documents presented by the "client" were fake and that the client's name was also made-up. They were detained for further questioning and investigation.
A few hours later, the students were back to their homes and apartments in the city, contemplating on what happened during that full moon night.