10

I stretched my arms above my head and arched my back. Oh, that felt good. My neck and shoulders ached but my feet felt lighter. Mm, I didn't want to think about why that was.

Last night had been, well, it had been strange. For a moment, I believed Sarah could be right and that Jake and I would've hit it off, but I couldn't get over the fact that he had left. My pride wouldn't let it go. And more than pride, I didn't want another person in my life not realizing how their actions affected me.

I checked on him last night, peeking through the curtain in my bedroom. He hadn't gone home but slept in his car instead. He had pulled a blanket over himself. It must have been colder than the other nights.

Well, I wouldn't feel bad. He was a grown man and this was his job. Did he expect me to let him sleep here? Or even in my bed? Of course not! I wouldn't even imagine that. No, not at all. Not imagining him sleeping next to me, at all.

A sound outside interrupted my thoughts and I jumped. Pulling aside the curtain, I saw a white van pull onto the neighbor's driveway. The renters next door were moving again. Jake shifted in his seat and stared back at me. I let go of the curtain and went to shower.

Thirty minutes later, I was at my front door, pulling on my black leather boots. I grabbed a heavier scarf from the coat rack, as there was a bit of frost around my windows this morning.

I was just about to leave when I remembered the file I was working on last night and ran back to my bedroom to retrieve it. My boots clicked across the hardwood floors and I prayed I didn't leave any marks on the flooring. My landlord was picky about that stuff. I recalled the line in the contract about markings on the floor and walls. I left that part in the contract but removed the part about plumbing and electrical fixes to be taken care of by the tenant. I looked into the rental laws here and the landlord was responsible for those. I wondered how many people signed that faulty contract and whether I should look into it further with the city. I could do that after work, perhaps. But first, I had to get there.

Finally, after locking my front door, I rushed to my car. I was only a few minutes later than usual, but traffic would be brutal if I left any later than eight.

I'd barely laid my hand on my car when I heard a van door open behind me. I hadn't thought anything of it until a loud rustling registered in my head. Someone rushed up behind me.

I wanted to turn around, but large arms grabbed me from behind and pulled me away from my car. One hand covered my mouth, and another dragged me across the driveway and into the open white van. Another man slammed the van door shut and, in the next second, the vehicle peeled out of the driveway and onto the road.

I only had two seconds to see the covered faces of the men in front of me before the first man, the one who had pulled me onto his lap to get inside the van, strapped a blindfold over my eyes.

Then everything went dark.

I kicked and struggled against the man who held me tightly against his chest, but his grip was too strong. "Go, go," another man shouted as the van made a sharp right turn. "He's right behind us."

The voice was deep, not gravelly like Jake's, but just as low. I reached behind me to scratch his face, but I felt nothing but air. I scratched his hand instead.

"Ow!" he shouted. "Damn it. Get me the cable ties."

More rustling in front of me and then another set of hands grabbed mine and a thin plastic strip tightened over my wrists. He then tied another around my waist and connected the two. The contraption worked. I couldn't raise my hands higher than my chest, prohibiting me from pulling down the blindfold.

Finally, the man released me from behind and I fell onto the cold, hard van floor.

Ouch!

The ridged van floor pressed into my hip and arm and I struggled to sit up. "Stay down," the gruff voice demanded. While it was not in my nature to take orders, I didn't move.

The horror of the situation fell onto me like a filing cabinet on my chest.

Oh god! I was in some van, tied up and blindfolded, laying on a dirty, smelly floor being driven to god knows where, with no idea what they wanted from me.

"I don't have any money," I pleaded, but the men were silent.

"I won't press any charges if you leave me at the side of the road right now."

The driver snickered.

My heart raced as I realized they weren't going to let me go, and worse, I didn't know what was going to happen next. My lips began to quiver and I pressed them together, but I couldn't stop a tear from falling. Fortunately, the blindfold soaked it up so I wouldn't be humiliated in front of my kidnappers.

Fear gripped my insides and made my stomach turn. I was nauseous, scared, and helpless.

My next thought was a humbling one.

Jake was right.

I hadn't taken this situation seriously enough. And now I was paying the price for my pigheadedness.

Another tear fell from my closed lashes into the dark, damp cloth over my eyes. My wrists hurt from the thin plastic and a bruise was forming on the side of my body, I was sure of it. Besides all of this, I felt numb on the inside. Which was best, considering I didn't know what sort of pain would be in my future.

I lay quietly on the floor, unable to think or speak. I lay that way for a few minutes, listening to the van squeal and turn. The men inside the van were quiet.

I wondered if Jake was still following the van or if these guys had somehow shaken him off. They hadn't mentioned him anymore. My heart sunk further down into my gut and I shivered.

We drove for several minutes, or perhaps it was hours, I wasn't sure. I think I blacked out for a little while.

Then the van stopped, and my heart sped up. This was it. The next steps were crucial. If my friends and family were to ever see me again, I had to fight for my life right now.

I rubbed my wrists together, which was pointless because I knew they would have to cut the cable ties off of me. Shaking my head, I tried to loosen the blindfold. If I could see where I was, maybe I could escape later.

I violently tossed my head from side to side, then back and forth, but it was no use.

I sighed and wracked my brain with what I could do next. The only thing I thought of was to listen to my surroundings. Listen for other voices perhaps, some clue to tell me where they had taken me.

"Come on," said the man next to me, as he grabbed my arm and pulled. I shuffled across the van floor. When someone else opened the van door, a strong breeze pushed my hair back from my face. The cold wind struck against my hot face. A burst of adrenaline hit me and I broke free from the man's grasp and started running blindly.

"Shit! Stop her!"

Footsteps raced behind me, and while I couldn't see where I was going, I knew anywhere was better than staying with them.

A few seconds later, what felt like a large boulder blocked my escape as I ran into a hard chest lined with a soft fabric. A warm wool coat engulfed me and pulled my head down inside. Hidden from view, the man held me tightly to his side and stepped forward. I tried not to walk, but he dragged me along, anyway.

"Hurry up before people notice," that deep voice whispered harshly behind us.

"Jake," I shouted, hoping he had followed the van and was here somewhere. But the man smothered my face into his side. The scent of his expensive cologne clogged my nose, and I screamed into the smooth fabric.

"Shh," the voice above me commanded.

I screamed louder.

"Get her out of sight!"

My captor lifted me off the ground and jogged down what sounded like a wooden walkway. His footfalls echoed against the planks.

He carried me down three, or perhaps four steps, turned, and climbed down a narrow staircase. I knew it had to be narrow as my boots scraped across the wall while my head was protected against his chest.

Perhaps this was just going to be a ransom. Maybe he wouldn't hurt me after all.

The tiny hope buoyed me above my drowning fear. He threw me onto a soft mattress and I bounced once before falling back onto the silk pillows beneath me.

A door slammed, and then I heard nothing but his panting breaths.

"Are you all right?"

The voice was muffled, as though his face was still covered.

I said nothing. I wanted to shout, ‘Of course, I'm not alright. You kidnapped me.' But I wasn't sure who I was dealing with and I hesitated to worsen the situation.

He swore softly. "That was a stupid question. Are you hurt?"

I remained silent. It was the best thing I could think of. When the police arrested someone, they told them to remain silent. For some reason, that popped into my head and I thought it was a good idea here, too. Besides, he was the one who should be talking, not me.

"Damn it," he muttered.

Then a brisk breeze hit my thin blouse as he swiftly turned away, opened the door, and left.

The room was eerily quiet. No traffic outside, no horns honking, and no children screaming. They couldn't have taken me into the city.

Was I still in Wellington, then?

No, they had driven further than the town limits.

Hadn't they?

I couldn't recall. The entire ordeal was foggy, as though it hadn't happened only minutes or maybe an hour ago. Time seemed to stand still, and I had no idea how much had passed.

A familiar but unexpected sound caught my attention. It sounded like water rustling, but it wasn't coming from inside the room. Perhaps there was a lake or a river nearby.

A motor roared to life and I fell back onto the pillows from the motion. Somehow, I was moving. Not me physically, but this apartment. No, this room. Whatever the heck this was.

As implausible as that seemed, I couldn't deny the momentum and speed at which the place moved. Then, in a moment of clarity, it hit me.

I was on a boat.

Oh no! No, no, no….

It was one thing to run away from my kidnappers on land, but by sea? That would be impossible.

This nightmare was becoming worse and worse. I had no idea where in the world they were taking me.

I rubbed my face against the pillow, loosening my blindfold. I needed to see where we were headed and maybe wave down another boat before we were too far off the coast.

With one firm push, the black fabric slipped off the top of my head. The light irritated my eyes, forcing me to shut them quickly. Hesitantly, I opened them again, allowing only a sliver of light to penetrate so I could look around.

I was indeed inside a boat. There was a king-sized bed in the middle of the large room. Dark wood-paneled walls lined the room with a sectional couch set up in one corner.

I ran to the window and searched for other boats. There were none. It was November and while the snow hadn't started yet, the rough gray sea probably wasn't as appealing as a warm summer day.

I ran for the door, but it was locked. I shook it with all my might, but it was well-built and barely budged.

"Help!" I shouted and pounded my tied fists against the door. "Help me, please!"

I didn't know to whom I was shouting. Only that it made me feel better to scream and rail. I pounded against the door until I was exhausted, and my wrists bled from the cable tie cuts. Then I slid my body down to the carpeted floor, closed my eyes, and cried.

What felt like hours passed until the boat's motor quieted and my body no longer felt pressed up against the door. The ship now swayed gently in the water and I pulled myself up and together.

Glancing out the window, I saw nothing but gray blue water for miles. No land, no other boats or ships. Nothing but a blue abyss.

Then I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I ran to the back of the room and struggled to find something to defend myself with. There were no lamps, only sconces on the walls, and no chairs that weren't nailed down to the floor. I opened the drawers and while a few were filled with towels and clothes, I found one with a radio inside. I grabbed it between my hands and held it in front of me.

The door knob turned, and a man walked in. He still wore a black balaclava over his face, which was a hopeful sign. If he was covering his face, perhaps he planned to set me free after he got what he wanted. Maybe this was all about a ransom. If not money, then to get my mother to not sign off on that controversial bill she had mentioned earlier. I wished I'd paid more attention that morning.

He grunted when he saw me and shook his head. He reached for the blindfold on the bed and then for me. I pulled away and waved the radio in front of me like a blunt sword.

"Get away from me," I shouted. "Don't touch me."

He snatched the radio from my hands and threw it onto the floor. It bounced on the carpet and lay dead at the foot of the bed.

He grabbed me from behind and struggled to put the blindfold on me again. To my credit, I didn't make it easy for him. To his credit, he didn't knock me out trying. Finally, having accomplished his task, he let me go.

I panted after the embarrassingly short struggle and slid down to the floor again. I propped my elbows onto my knees and dropped my head onto my hands.

"Shit," he whispered. "Those idiots didn't use the wristbands like I'd told them to." He muttered and walked away.

A few minutes later, he crouched next to me on the floor and gently pressed a cotton pad onto my wrist.

"Sss," I hissed at the pain. He must have put alcohol on the pad.

"I'm sorry, but I have to clean these up or they can get infected."

I gritted my teeth as I allowed him to clean my wounds. He softly brushed the pad along my skin, careful not to press too deeply. His gentleness would have made me weep had I not been scared for my life.

After he'd finished cleaning my wrists, he wound a soft fabric over my skin until I only felt the pressure of the cable tie, but no pain.

"Thank you," I muttered under my breath. Maybe this one was nicer than the other two. I prayed he would be compassionate enough to let me go.

"Please," I whispered. "It's not too late. I don't know who you are or why I'm here. Just take me back home."

He squeezed my arm, but then picked me up from the floor and laid me on the bed.

"Get some rest," he whispered and his breath fanned my face, causing goosebumps along my arms.

His footsteps faded away until he shut the door behind him.

There was no way I would rest. Jake had failed. He hadn't protected me. I was on my own.

Clenching my fists, I devised a plan of escape.