Authors: Shane Scollins
“Ren, Renner, hey.” She pushed herself up and a man in a mask was standing over her with a gun. She tried to get up
, but he went at her, not with the gun but with a red rag. He forced it over her face.
Emily struggled to break free of his grasp
, but he was too strong. She held her breath, trying desperately not to breathe in whatever he wanted her to breathe, but after a few seconds she couldn’t fight the urge to suck air into her lungs, and when she did, it was horrible acidy air. A few seconds later, she was out.
Emily
’s vision swam into focus but the darkness was thick. Her head was foggy and thumping slightly. Stiff fingers touched the softness of a mattress and she gingerly pushed herself up. With considerable effort, she rolled her legs off the bed, searching for the floor. Attempting to stand, she quickly realized her right hand was shackled to the bed.
A deep breath ushered in some dewy air. It was warm but not hot.
After a hard swallow and a clear of her throat, she tried to yell. “Hello? Is anyone there? Hello? Someone help me!” The taste in her mouth was vile.
Her eyes were acclimating to the darkness and a room started to become clear. To her right
stood a small nightstand with a wooden lamp. She reached over and flicked on the light, but it didn’t illuminate. “Hello!” There was nothing else in the room that she could see other than a cushioned chair across from the bed under a small window.
Yanking on the cuff around her wrist proved painful. It was digging into the back of her hand. “Help me! Someone, is anyone out there?” She could see out
the window, but there was no real light. A faint glow off in the distance flickered through some trees. It was clear she was no longer near the bright lights of Virginia Beach.
She screamed as loud as she could until her throat became sore and dry. It
was clear no one was coming. A feeling of complete doom started to chill her. Tears felt like they wanted to come through, but for some reason didn’t. It didn’t seem real. Her friends were all dead. Memories of Ren’s lifeless body made her want to puke. It was all so vivid now. She was going to be sick.
Emily leaned over the edge of the bed and vomited. There wasn’t much in her
stomach, but something came out. Her throat, raw from screaming, now burned with acid. She wanted to punch something, break something, cry so hard, but only soft weepy tears escaped. This was a profound sadness unlike anything she’d ever felt before.
It all happened so fast, it was hard to remember any details other than the horrible
noises and the sickening results. She tried to piece together how many men there were, if there were more than one. There were several gunshots, but the chaos that ensued seemed to be over in just a few seconds.
After a while
, it surprised her how quickly the sadness was starting to fade into something different. It wasn’t exactly anger, but there was a feeling building inside her that wanted to lash out at someone. Frustration was a good word for it, but even that didn’t quite encompass the depth of the hateful explosion that percolated in her belly.
Somewhere in the night
, a car door closed. In that split second her body stiffened, her heart rate increased and the fear returned. Emily listened intently as footsteps started to carry through the wooden structure. A flicker of light cast probing shadow fingers under the gap of the door.
S
omeone was walking around out there. Her imagination ran wild with a million different things, none of which were any good. Then the mystery walker stopped in front of her door. The slight groan in the wooden planks carried an ominous weight.
The door
swung open and a tall sturdy man dressed in all black stood there in the shadows looking at her. There wasn’t enough light to see his face, but he had on what looked like the comedy half of the classic comedy-tragedy white rubber mask.
He walked over to the table next to the bed and placed a small
, plastic, battery-powered dome lamp. He then handed her a brown paper bag without saying a word. But Emily just sat there.
He
held the bag out closer, shaking it in urgency for her to take it. She didn’t want to touch it, but he just stood there looking down at her, silently. She tentatively reached out and took hold of the bag.
The obvious smell
of food radiated through the brown paper, but she wasn’t hungry. She placed the bag down next to her on the bed and he turned to walk out. “Who are you?”
He stopped and looked back at her
, staring, still without saying a word.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
He tilted his head.
“Are my friends all dead?”
He nodded once.
“Please, just let me go, please—please let me go.”
He turned and walked out, shutting the door softly.
Emily looked to the ceiling and around the room now that she had some light. It looked like a log cabin, an old one.
It smelled old and musty before. Now all she smelled was the food and she was suddenly very hungry.
Part of her didn’t want to eat
anything. A trace of fear inside her worried that maybe it was poisoned or laced with something. But she felt like she hadn’t eaten in days and she never skipped meals. People often thought because she was in such good shape that she doesn’t eat. But that’s completely wrong, she ate a lot, she just ate clean foods. Junk foods, fast foods, candy and soda were not part of her daily routine, which made her a rare creature in her world.
Finally
, she opened the bag. It was a submarine style sandwich and a small bag of potato chips. It was not normally something she would eat. Deli meats were full of fillers and chemicals. It’s not that she didn’t eat meat, she did. But she only ate actual meat, except for beef and pork. Not because they were unhealthy in moderation, but because she loved pigs and cows. There was nothing more cute than a little baby piglet and there was no way she was going to eat one. Even the sight of bacon gave her shivers, which was hard these days since people were putting bacon on and in everything.
She gave up eating beef because of a
documentary she saw on how the cows were treated. It made her stop consuming dairy of all kinds. Some people called her silly and made fun of her over it, but she didn’t care. Never one to go along with trends, Emily relished in being against the grain. There was no delusion in her mind that maybe she was a bit loony when it came to her food. Her friends joked that by the time she was thirty she’d be eating weeds, bark, and free-range snails. Nevertheless, she had to eat something, so she reluctantly sank her teeth into the sandwich.
After finishing the meal
, she opened the bottle of water that was at the bottom of the bag. The water was a brand she’d never seen before, but it was very refreshing. She wanted more.
“Hello?”
she called, but her captor didn’t answer. “I need to use the bathroom.” After a few seconds, she heard the creak of floorboards and the door opened. “I don’t want to pee on the bed.”
He stared at her for a long few moments and finally stepped towards her. A jingle of keys and a snick of the lock and her hand was free
d. A brief moment of anger hit her and she punched at him hard, connecting to the side of his face, knocking him backwards.
She bolted from the bed
, but only got about two steps before he caught her by the back of the shirt. She kept her feet digging, but he had a firm grip and yanked her backwards. She spun around with her elbow, connecting into his head and he let go with a long moan.
Heading towards the front door, fingers reaching for the knob
, she felt him close the gap in a hurry. He slammed into her from behind, crushing her into the closed door.
A gasp of air escaped her body as he threw her to the ground. She tried to roll away
, but he grabbed her by the hair, held her head to the floor, and sat on her midsection. There was no way she was moving, she could hardly breathe.
He put a leather
-clad hand around her throat and forced her head from moving. She threw a wild punch at his crotch and connected hard; he groaned and took hold of both her hands and pinned them to the floor. But it put his face close to her and she threw her head up into his face, head-butting him right in the nose, he yelled and fell off her. Scrambling to her feet, she headed to the door again, twisted the knob and throw the door open.
Plunging into the night, she started
running down the long driveway in a full-blown sprint. Mid-stride she felt something bite her on the lower back. It felt like a bee, but when she reached back, she felt the dart and quickly pulled it out of her skin.
Though she was running as fast as she could
, everything was moving so slowly. She heard footsteps coming fast, but couldn’t tell from which direction. Everything was so hazy. Within the next few seconds, someone tackled her hard and pinned her to the ground.
Emily squirmed and struggled with everything she had
, but he was much bigger and heavier, and although the feeling from whatever was in that dart was wearing off quickly, he just sat there until she tired herself out.
With no fight left, she let her arms slump to the
dirt. She was not one to take defeat lying down. It made her mad, made her want to fight more. But there was nothing left except pure exhaustion.
Several minutes later
, he got up and yanked her by the arm, spun her around and walked her from behind with her arm bent in a hard angle in her back, pushing her back towards the cabin.
Inside, h
e ripped open the door and shoved her into the bathroom. It was a huge relief that he didn’t stand in the room with her. It was dark, but she managed to find the toilet. She didn’t even really have to go before, but she did now.
After washing her hands, she felt around the room for a weapon or something
, but there was nothing except a towel. She dried her hands, wiped her face, and started to resign herself to the fact she was doomed. There was no window to climb out of and the only option was to open the door and face him again.
Emily pulled the door open
. He stood on the other side, this time he had a gun prominently displayed in the air. He walked her back to the room, cuffed her to the bed, and closed the door.
She didn’t
want to sleep, but after a while she closed her eyes.
Lying in the bed staring at the ceiling, a
blast of morning invaded through the window and caused her to come out of the daze. Initially, it was a nice feeling, the warmth of the sunrays, but reality crashed down when she saw him sitting in the chair gawking at her.
Emily gasped and sat up.
She didn’t even know she’d fallen asleep, but he must have snuck into the room at some point. He just tilted his white-masked face and continued watching her. It made her incredibly uncomfortable and afraid. His face wasn’t visible, his expressions hidden by the cheap plastic mask. But she knew there was something creepy going on underneath.
The only part of him she could see were his eyes, and they bathed her in
a sickening fashion. She could feel them examining every curve of her body, over her tight white T-shirt and skimpy jean shorts and back up again. He hadn’t said a word, but his eyes gave away his every intention.
“Who are you?” Emily asked again
, but she didn’t expect an answer. “What’re we doing here?” The man just continued to stare at her. “Are you ever going to talk to me?” She hated the silence. It made the situation worse. But he was apparently never going to speak to her. He was probably just going to rape and kill her. “Are you going to kill me?” There was no reply. “Why are you waiting? Why not just get it over with?”
She looked out the window past him, hoping that something there would give away where they might be
, or if help was close enough that she could find it if she got away. But she didn’t see anything except woods and thick trees. The complete doom of this situation was taking over her mind.
He stood and walked over to the bed, looking down at her. Fear started to build about what he was going to do.
This was it—he was going to rape her. Bumps of gooseflesh raised everywhere on her body. She tried not to show the fear; rape was all about power and control and she refused to let him have it.
Slowly he reached down towards her thigh. I
nvoluntarily she yanked it away, kicking her legs to the side and squirming as far as her cuffed hand would allow. He grabbed her thigh hard, then threw himself on top of her body. She screamed loudly out of fear and broke the promise to herself not to show any.
The scream seemed to stop him.
He climbed off her and stood, moving nervously, looking around as if he was expecting someone to come running in. He regarded her for a long few moments and then hurried out of the room.
Emily shuddered in relief, her heavy breath slowed. It was the last thing she expected. She thought that was it. B
ut by some miracle he’d stopped, for now. It hit her just how vulnerable she was. They could do whatever they wanted to her. All kinds of bad scenarios were playing in her head. Having an overactive imagination was sometimes a curse. This was one of those times.
There was some commotion outside. She looked at the door with anticipation and trepidation. A loud crashing
noise was followed by a heavy thump. Then it sounded like there was a fight going on. Crashing and banging shook the cabin walls and increased her fears even more. She heard groaning, moaning, and huffing, a muffled voice, then a gunshot, and then three more in rapid succession. After several long moments, silence once again consumed the cabin.
Waiting for a noise, Emily listened intently. There were a few final muffled noises and then the door opened and a familiar face stood on the other side. It was
her neighbor, Harry. She was baffled and excited, and was never more excited to see his puffy red cheeks and thin lips. “Harry?”
He hurried over to the bed. “Emily, are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’m fine.”
He used the key and undid her cuffs. “We have to get out of here right now.”
Emily rubbed her wrist after it was free. “What happened out there?”
“He got away, but he’s coming back. We have to get out of here
fast.”
They scrambled out the door and she saw Harry’s familiar classic
red Mustang in the driveway. Emily got in and Harry gunned the engine down the driveway. At the end of the lane, he cut the wheel so hard the car slid sideways and skidded down the asphalt at breakneck speed.
“How’d you find me?”
“Crap!” Harry looked in the mirror. “I think that’s them.”
“Them? How many are there?”
“Three. I followed them from your hotel, but I couldn’t get the drop until now.”
“What
’re they doing? What did they want with me?”
Harry shook his head. “I don’t know, but it’s big.
You’re still in danger.”
She looked behind them
, but didn’t see anyone. “We need to get to the police.”
He sighed. “We can’t, they
may be part of this.”
She looked at him, his
dark eyes flickered away quickly back to the road. “I don’t understand.”
“We need to get away, lay low for a while until I
get the all clear.”
“This is crazy. How can the police be in on it?”
“They can’t be trusted. There’s something you need to know.” He looked at her. “Your family is in danger, too.”
Emily felt her brain twisting into a knot. “What?”
“How do you think I found you? Your father sent me to get you to safety.”
“How…I mean…why? What’s this all about?”
“I told you: I don’t know all the details yet.”
Emily sighed and slumped back into the white leather seat. This didn’t make any sense. Why anyone would have some sort
of agenda with her family seemed impossible. Her father was a computer network technician and her mother was title clerk at an auto dealership. They didn’t have any money for a ransom. “Where’re we going?”
Harry nodded ahead. “I’ve secured a safe house about a
n hour from here through my friend at the FBI. He’s helping me.”
“You have a friend at the FBI?”
He nodded. “He’s retired, but consults for my business.”
It made sense. Harry was
in the Army for a long time, he’d worked as a security consultant in Afghanistan, and he currently owned a small company that made gun safes and weapons security devices for police stations and government offices. “What do they want with us? Who are they?” She knew she asked those things already, but it just begged to be asked again.
Harry had no reply at first, but then said, “I think it has something to do with your father’s work.”
“Huh? He’s a computer geek.”
“Exactly, he’s a network engineer. He’s a very smart guy.”
“He works for a perfume manufacturer.”
“It may not be what he does
. It may be what he can do. Your father has some serious skills that bad people would love to have working for them.”
Emily thought about it for a while. There were thousands of computer geeks with the same skill set as Roland Bontrager. She couldn’t imagine what her father might know that would
set him apart and make his entire family a target. “What did they want with me?”
“They may have taken you to get to him. They might have been set on forcing him to do something.”
“I want to talk to my father.”
“No, I can’t. He gave me strict instructions to get you t
o safety and not to contact him until he contacted me. I have my phone—he knows where to reach me.”
Emily was just having such a hard time coming to grips with all this. But she trusted Harry.
He’d been a family friend for fifteen years and her father trusted him with his life.
The Mustang sped down the country road
, whipping the scenery into a blur. She leaned her head back into the seat.