Chapter 18

Eighteen

D ahlia

I scramble around to gather my clothes, all the while hearing terrifying noises outside. I try to keep it together as I throw on my dress, all the while hearing struggling, shouting and the sound of car or truck doors shut before multiple vehicles drive away in a hurry.

I make for the door, lantern in hand, trying to dial 911 with trembling fingers. Someone or something grabs me from behind. I scream but my voice is muffled by a gloved hand covering my mouth. I bite down hard. A woman screams, and for a second I think it’s me. But it’s coming from whoever it is who grabbed me. The person knocks my legs out from under me, and my phone goes flying as I fall. My assailant pins me to the floor, my hands behind my back. Whoever it is breathing as heavily as I am. Maybe more so. Keeping control of my fear, I infer that my attacker is female, and I think I can take her out if I need to. She’s out of breath from her efforts to subdue me.

So, I calm myself, and let whoever it is believe she has the upper hand. She wraps what feels like a length of thick, rough rope around my wrists. My brain somehow recalls a trick I saw somewhere, probably during a late night true crime documentary binge, so I clasp my hands together and hold my elbows wide as she binds my hands. I just hope it works to create enough slack to rescue myself when the opportunity comes.