Authors: Christopher David Petersen
“Useless drunks. I’ll bet their parents are so proud,” she said to herself angrily. “Hey
,
you morons, how about some real food
?
”
Serena got off the musty old couch and walked to the door. Bending over, she lined her eye up with the keyhole. Through the tiny opening, she could just make out two figures playing cards on the far side of the room, thirty feet away. As she watched, the two passed a clear bottle between them.
“Just as I thought… hard at work,” she snarled. “Hope you choke on that bottle, jerks.”
A moment later, Misha took a long slug from the bottle. As the fiery liquid seared the back of this throat, he coughed, knocking himself off balance. Still leaning back on the rear two legs of his chair, the sudden shift in his weight pushed him beyond the center of gravity and he toppled over on his back.
Serena laughed quietly and said, “Serves you right, genius.”
With a loud roar of laughter from Sergei, Misha rolled his heavy frame over onto his knees, then stood quickly, trying to mitigate his embarrassment. He casually straighten
ed
himself out and took another sip of vodka.
“I was getting up anyway,” he growled.
“Yeah, and so was I… off your mother,” Sergei shot back in tasteless humor, still laughing at the spectacle.
Misha ignored the young thug’s comment and replied, “I’m hungry.”
He turned and grabbed his musty tweed sport jacket and slung it over his shoulder. Looking back at Sergei, he said, “You stay here. Watch the girl.”
“Uh uh, I’m coming with you old man. Last time you brought back food, I ate t
he cardboard box instead. Your
taste in food sucks… just like your taste in woman,” Sergei teased.
Drunk and humiliated, Misha had had enough. He drew his Glock 19 from his jacket and pointed it in Sergei’s face. Suddenly, the laughing stopped.
“You’re getting on my nerves. I’ve killed people for less. Don’t push it,” Misha spat out acidly.
Sergei froze. Misha’s cold stare told the story. One slip of the tongue and he’d be a statistic before he hit the ground.
Quickly he forced a laugh.
“Hey, relax
,
friend. I was just kidding,” he said, trying to schmooze his way out of the jam. “How ‘bout we get some food. I’ll buy.”
Misha’s cheap nature
detracted from
his drunken anger.
“You give me the money and I’ll bring something back.”
“Nah, I’ll go with you. Besides, I need to pick up more vodka,” Sergei replied, trying to entice him with alcohol.
“We can’t. One of
us has to stay with the girl. R
emember what Alexi said?”
With a look of indifference, Sergei responded, “Eh, don’t worry about him. He’ll never know. Where’s she going to go anyway? The door’s locked and
there are
no windows in there.”
Misha thought about it for a moment.
“And we can stop off for some Cuban’s. I’m getting tired of these cheap cigars we’ve been smoking,” Sergei offered.
“Ok,” Misha said simply, too drunk to think of a better reply.
Sergei
leaped
to his feet and grabbed his jacket. Leading the way out, he flashed an unconcerned look toward the back room, then left.
Serena lost sight of them as they moved past the keyhole. She heard their voices fade, then the door slam shut. She was alone… alone for the first time since her capture. For a moment, she felt relief.
“Finally, some peace,” she said. “Take your time, idiots.”
She stood up and headed back to the foul smelling couch.
Suddenly, she stopped. The quiet in the room seemed conspicuous, out of place. She walked back to the door and squinted through the keyhole once more.
“Wow, I really am alone,” she said aloud, in amazement.
She placed her hand on the doorknob and tried to turn it.
“Locked,” she said under her breath.
She rattled the doorknob, and pushed on the door, hoping it would somehow spring open.
“Nothing,” she said, disappointed.
In one coordinated move, she rotated the doorknob and thrust her shoulder into the door. Suddenly, the crack between the door and the doorjamb widened. Again, she slammed her shoulder into the door.
“Hmm, wider,” she remarked.
Serena took a deep breath, moved away from the door, then quickly thrust her weight back at it with all her energy, turning the doorknob at impact.
Instantly, the lock broke through the old wooden frame and the door burst open.
She stumbled forward, caught her balance, then stood for moment and surveyed her surroundings.
“No way!” She whispered. “I’m out.”
Looking back at the broken doorjamb, she immediately felt fear.
“When they see this, I’m dead,” she said to herself nervously.
Looking around the old dirty office building, the reality of her situation finally struck
her
.
“I’m free,” she said aloud.
She mind concentrated on one thought: Escape!
Instantly, she ran to the door. Turning the handle, she opened the door and looked down a long hallway.
“Empty.”
She immediately stepped into the hall and quietly moved toward a stairwell at the end. Moments later, she leaned over the railing and listened for any sign
s
of humanity.
“Nothing. I’m completely alone,” she said excitedly under her breath.
Tiptoeing down the stairs, she stopped every few feet and listened. Hearing nothing, she worked her way lower. Descending through several flights of stairs, she reached the bottom. Stepping into a small foyer, she looked out through the windows of the main doors to the building.
“Well, it’
s now
or never,” she said to herself, anxiety now causing her to shake slightly.
She pushed the door open slightly, trying to minimize the sound and slipped into the open air. For the first time in a month, she felt the sun’s rays on her skin. The deep warm
th
felt good.
Outside the building was the main parking lot. Rundown from lack of use and upkeep, large weeds grew up through the cracks in the tarmac. She looked around for cars, but found none.
Just beyond the parking lot, she saw an old road and heavy forest that lined both sides. With one last look, she darted across the parking lot and headed for the road. Seconds later, she hid behind a large tree and scanned the road for traffic. Closing her eyes, she listened intently for any sounds of life.
“Nothing, the area’s deserted,” she said, her body shaking slight
ly
from nervous tension.
In a split second decision, she ran to her left up the street. Running along the grass between the shoulder of the road and the trees, she made continual sweeps for traffic. A minute later, she stopped and listened.
“Shit, a car,” she said in frightened tone.
She leaped into the woods and lay on her stomach. In seconds, an old car drove by. She listened closely. F
a
rther down the road, she heard it drive by her captor’s old building. Stand
ing
and listening once more, she heard nothing. Immediately, she raced back along the grass, continuing to look over her shoulder every few steps.
Nearly fifteen minutes had passed and the trees thinned out. Panting heavily, she stopped and listened for cars. There were none. Far up ahead, she saw signs of civilization. Rows of apartment buildings lined the horizon, their tops showing just above the distant treetops, two miles away.
She listened again, then sprinted along the grass. Moments later, she saw movement up ahead. Quickly, she darted back into the wood and lay motionless behind a tree. With her heart pounding wildly, she watched as an old work truck drove slowly by. She breathed a momentary sigh of relief, then heard another car approaching. Lying perfectly still, she saw the large modern sedan drive by.
Suddenly, she froze. In the front seat, she saw Misha’s unmistakable profile.
“Oh my God, this is it. They’ll be looking for you shortly,” she said to herself.
As the car rounded a bend further down the road, she instantly sprang from the trees and ran toward the distant apartment buildings.
Running at full speed, she panted wildly, her lungs desperate for air. Sweat dripped from her forehead as she overheated from exhaustion. Minutes later, she began to slow as the trees now disappeared and the land opened up into large fields. Exposed and vulnerable, panic raced through her body. With over a mile to go, she searched for anything she could use as cover along the way. There was nothing.
Up ahead, another car approached. Franticly, she looked for somewhere to hide. With the open fields flat and featureless, she had little choice: she continued on.
The car slowed. Serena held her stare straight ahead, pretending to be a jogger. As she ran out of wind and finally stopped, the car continued on by. Relief swept over her, but only for a moment. F
a
rther up ahead, another car approached.
Serena took several large breathes, clearing out her lungs. Digging deep, she began to run once more.
“Half mile, keep going. Don’t stop,” she said as encouragement under her breath.
The old rusted car slowed. Serena kept her pace steady. As it passed, three passengers stared out their open windows. For a
moment,
she felt relief, then heard the sound of squealing tires behind her. She turned an
d
watched in horror as the car was now turning around.
“God, no!” she cried out in fear.
Instantly, she ran at full speed. With a half mile to go, she knew she was in trouble. Panting deeply and sweating profusely, she concentrated on the apartments now clearly visible.
She glanced over her shoulder. The car was gaining.
Serena’s mind raced. There was nowhere to run… nowhere to hide. With her heart pounding, she felt as if she were going to collapse.
As the car pulled alongside her, two men hung outside over their door. She glanced over her shoulder. These were not her captors. She felt a moment’s relief.
Suddenly, loud shouts startled her. As the car pulled slightly ahead, she noticed their body markings and rough attire. The smell of alcohol spewed from the open windows.
‘Young punks,’ Serena thought to herself in anger.
Yelling in their foreign language, Serena could only guess their meanings. Suggestive and obscene, their hand gestures were unmistakable. These men were dangerous and she was now in serious trouble.
She looked at the men, back to the apartments, then across the open field. As her paced began to slow, so did the car of thugs. She knew that when she stopped, they would too and she might never be heard from again.
With little choice left, she veered off into the open field. Running at a slower pace, the moistened ground caused her to run even slower. Instantly, the car veered off toward her in reaction, the drunken driver surprised by his own stupidity. He hauled the wheel away from the field, but only too late. The front tire sunk into the wet soil, fol
lowed by the rear tire. Like an
anchor on a boat, the two tires forced the car to a complete stop.
The three drunken men piled out of the car and stumbled around the vehicle, assessing their dilemma. In a moment of rage, one of the men charged after Serena. Looking over her shoulder, her fear was extreme and intense.
Tear
s
streamed down her face and she let out a guttural cry.
With her last once of energy, she made one last attempt at escape. She picked up her speed slightly, and now matched the speed of the charging man twenty yards behind her.
Seeing the distance between he and Serena go unchanged, the drunken man increased his speed. Losing his footing in the moist grass, he stumbled and fell. Quickly, he stood and continued the chase, only now with a greater distance
between
them. Out of breath and too drunk to continue, he quickly gave up.
With her lungs ready to burst, Serena looked over her shoulder and watched the thug turn away. Ready to collapse, she slowed her pace and forced herself to keep moving.
A minute later, with the men far behind and the apartments just in front of her, she slowed to a walk. Breathing heavily and her vision blurred
,
she was nearly on the edge of blackout. She crossed under a fence and headed into the apartment area, scanning for a place to hide.
Located next to the apartments, she spotted a trash dumpster. With one more look around, she hurried in behind it and collapse
d
to the ground. Shielded on two sides, it was as good a place to hide as any. Lying on her back, she gasped for air as her vision slowly became clear once more. Physically and emotionally spent, she raised her weakened hands to her face and began to cry.