Chapter 9

It's wearing off again.

Ruby blinked away the sticky weight that kept her eyelids shut. She lay face down across a soft surface, drawing on fractured memories of the last time she'd been conscious long enough to make sense of her situation.

She remembered her Range Rover stopping. The second the engine died, she'd sat up, determined to catch her captor off guard. Only, she hadn't moved fast enough. One minute she'd been pawing at the door handle, fumbling to release the lock, and the next she'd fallen into his arms. A light snow had flecked her cheek.

She'd gleaned a fleeting impression of tall pine trees and cold mountain air just before the sharp prick of a needle pierced her triceps for a second time. The last thing she remembered was being hauled out of the car and tossed over her captor's broad shoulder.

Where am I now?

A thread of silver light pierced two dark panels—curtains?—suggesting the presence of a window. Turning her head the other way, she spied a brighter beam of light at the bottom of a closed door. From beyond it came the sound of a television program, complete with canned laughter. The blanket under her nose emitted the odor of mothballs.

The brief glimpse of her whereabouts earlier had confirmed her guess that she was being taken to the Pocono Mountains. And now she was in a log cabin, given the lumpy walls. Was this where her captor meant to kill her, in some remote lodge where no one would hear her screams? If so, why hadn't he done it already? Perhaps he was waiting for her to regain consciousness. That made sense if he was after information.

Not going to happen.

She tried to move. Her limbs felt weighted and clumsy. Well, no wonder. Both her wrists and her ankles were bound together with plastic zip ties. In fact, it was the numb fire licking up her arms that had awakened her, not unlike the two separate times, years before, that she'd awakened in the middle of a medical procedure—first at twelve years old, when her tonsils were being taken out, and then again at eighteen, when her wisdom teeth were extracted.

"It's her red hair," the orthodontist had informed his horrified assistant. Apparently, Ruby needed more anesthetic than most people.

Well, in this case, waking up was a good thing, only her captor had better not overhear her, lest he commence with his interrogation or jab her with more of the sedative.

Stifling a moan of pain, Ruby rolled onto her back. She then jackknifed to a sitting position and took closer stock of her whereabouts. Her eyes, now adjusted to the dark, made out a small but decently appointed room with a raftered ceiling. There was a bed, a dresser, and a mirror. Perhaps there was something she could use to cut herself free?

An object resembling her purse had her looking back at the dresser. Would her captor be so careless as to leave her purse, with her phone inside it, sitting right next to her?

Tony!She could call for help.

She scootched as quietly as possible to the edge of the mattress. The bed beneath her squeaked. Then she stood slowly, not altogether certain her legs would hold her weight. When they did, she gave a shaky little hop and then another.

She leaned over the dresser and tried to open her purse. Using her lips and teeth, she succeeded in freeing the snap that kept it closed. She nosed her way into the main pocket, searching desperately for her phone. But it wasn't there. Her abductor must have removed it, maybe even thrown it away so they wouldn't be traced.

He wasn't careless, after all. Or was he?

Seizing the whole bag with her teeth, she hopped back to the bed and dropped it there, causing the contents to spill out. Then she sifted through them with her nose—makeup, wallet, lipstick—ah ha!—fingernail file. She turned around, sat next to it, and groped behind her back to pick it up. She would use it to cut herself free.

This looks a lot easier in the movies.

But hope and desperation lent her dexterity. Back and forth over the plastic strip Ruby sawed, cutting through it one millimeter at a time. With a snap, the cuff around her wrists fell away. Ay, ay, ay. She shook the blood back into her arms before going to work on her ankles. Outside her room, the television program gave way to advertising. At any moment, her captor might get up and check on her.

Having injected her twice now, he was clearly aware that the drug only worked for a limited amount of time on her. He was probably gearing up to inject her yet again—or worse yet, keep her awake for questioning and torture.

But it wouldn't come to that if she could help it. She was getting the heck out of here.

All things are possible through Christ who gives me strength!

That Bible verse had changed her entire life. With another snap, the second zip tie fell away from her ankles. Ruby jumped to her feet. Straining to hear over her galloping heart, she swept her belongings back into her purse, looped the strap over her head, and tiptoed toward the window. On her way there, she glimpsed her coat hanging over one corner of the footboard and hurriedly donned it, fingers fumbling to button herself up. It would be cold out there.

She had just reached the window when the television fell silent. Terror spiked, causing her to freeze on a gasp, ears pricked to the sounds beyond her door. Her captor seemed to be listening, also. Any minute now, he would get up to check on her. She couldn't afford to tarry.

Stretching out a hand, she felt behind the curtain for a window latch. There it was, in the middle of the window, icy to the touch. The mechanism was simple. With a swipe of her thumb, she flipped it open, then went to lift the window. On the other side of the door, the slow thud of approaching footsteps goaded her into reckless action.

Now, Ruby!But the window was stuck. Ruby strained with both hands and, with a pop, it rumbled upward. Frigid air blasted in. At least there was no screen to contend with.

The doorknob turned. Should have locked that.

With the silhouette of her captor filling the opening door and his shout of warning abrading her ears, Ruby threw herself headfirst out the opening, diving into the darkness. More than halfway out, her upper thighs caught on the windowsill.

For a terrible second, she hung suspended, clutching her purse as the strap slipped. Her captor had grasped her legs while the ground outside was just feet away. Good thing I'm on the first floor.

With a mighty kick, Ruby freed herself. Her captor's grunt of pain mingled with her own as she toppled onto the hard ground, hands outstretched to break her fall. To keep from striking her head on the frozen soil, she tucked her chin, rounded her spine, and rolled just like she'd done in gymnastics as a child.

To her amazement, she came right up on her feet, losing her purse in the process. No time to pick it up now. Injured wrist tucked close, she ran blindly into the darkness, only to discover that the shadows in front of her were the pointy ends of many branches.

Ruby squeezed her eyes shut and pushed blindly into them. They clawed at her clothing and her hair, yet she escaped unscathed out the other side.

The earth rose sharply under her pumps, forcing her to ascend a densely wooded slope, one with unseen boulders that jutted out of the earth. One such boulder tripped her. She fell to her knees on a bed of pine needles, pain lancing her wrist anew, and struggled up again.

Behind her, she could hear a door slamming and the tramping of feet.

As expected, her captor was coming after her. He'd seen which direction she was fleeing. The beam of a flashlight strafed the darkness.

Hide!She cast about for a bush to squirm beneath. There wasn't any underbrush in sight. As he neared her, she darted behind the wide trunk of a tree and froze.

He slowed, breathing heavily as he panned the light around.

Ruby tried to stop panting. She could hear Tony in her head, teaching her how to breathe the way Navy SEALs did—"Inhale for the count of three, through the mouth, hold for one second, then slowly exhale." But her chest convulsed in fear, turning her exhalation into a sob.

The light grew brighter. On the other side of the tree, twigs snapped under her captor's heels. Run! But she was frozen in fear.

"Thought you could get away?" Her captor pounced without warning.

She screamed.

"Quiet!"

The slap came out of nowhere, sobering her with its force.

Holding his phone between his teeth, the man spun her around and prodded her back in the direction of the house. "You want to get me in trouble." His accented English was as foreign as this bizarre situation.

Ruby played the last card left to her. "Whatever Katz is paying you, my husband will double it."

"I don't know who's payin' me, and I don't care."

"He's the lieutenant governor of Pennsylvania, Lennard Katz."

"Quiet. I don't want to know. I just do what I'm told."

"Then you're just a puppet."

"I said, quiet!" He gave her a push that sent her plowing face-first into the nearest tree trunk. Her injured wrist throbbed as she caught herself. Rough bark abraded her cheek, leaving it stinging.

Her captor jerked her back against his side. "You gonna hurt yourself, and I'll get the blame." He grabbed her by the hair and led her downhill toward the house.

The telling words seeped into Ruby's consciousness. Wait, he would get into trouble for hurting her? Relief edged aside her despair.

Well, that was reassuring…or was it? He might be selling her to human traffickers.

The log cabin came into view, gilded by moonlight and resembling something a seasonal hunter might use. No other structures were in sight—no signs of other people anywhere.

He shoved her through the open door into warmth, kicked it shut behind them, then drew her toward the refrigerator. "Don't move." With a warning glare, he released her to open the black plastic case inside.

Ruby touched a finger to her stinging face and discovered she was bleeding.

When he turned around, her captor was sucking clear liquid from a capsule into a syringe.

She backed away, shaking her head. "Oh, don't do that. You're going to hurt my baby with those drugs."

Her captor paused, giving her hope that he would simply tie her up again. But then a sneer curled his upper lip and he lunged toward her, seizing her by her coat. The needle pierced the thick material, just as it had done two times previously.

In a matter of seconds, Ruby slumped against him. The room turned gray, then black. Why was he keeping her alive? Please God, not human trafficking. I just want to go back to Tony.