The sound of creaking wakes me. It’s dark, moonlight creeps between the gap in the curtains, though I could’ve sworn I’d fallen asleep with the lamp on. I lie still and listen, but I’m greeted only by silence. As though even the wind is too terrified to make a sound. But I’m not alone. I sense someone in the room with me. Close. Slowly, I turn my head. I see him a second before the damp cloth comes down hard over my nose and mouth. My body reacts before my mind can catch up; heart galloping, muscles tight, breath short and fast. When the fog of confusion clears, the fear is immediate. A scream rips its way up my throat, muffled by the cloth.
I thrash and flail, I kick and throw my weight to the left, rolling off the bed and landing hard on the floor. Air whooshes out of me and I’m on my back, struggling to breathe. I don’t have time to move before the weight of him hits me. He’s broad and strong. Wearing something over his face. I raise my arms to fight him off, but he knocks them away with bruising force and presses into me so hard, I think my ribs will crack. My mind races, but all I can think is fight, run. My cry for help is cut off again by the damp, tangy cloth he smashes into my mouth. I taste blood.
Desperate, I reach up and claw at his face. The mask he’s wearing slips and he rears back. I scramble to my feet but I’m heavy and slow, the sting of the chemical-sodden cloth still clinging to the back of my throat.
I must get out.
Must get help.
I lurch forward. Everything around me shimmers and greys. A scream bubbles in my throat. He bulldozes into me and I crash into the wall-mounted mirror by the door. It splinters; a crooked spider’s web of broken glass across its face. Agony flares in my shoulder; there’s a two-inch shard of glass stabbing into the meatiest part of my upper arm. It’s alien and hot. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I stagger for the door. My hand curls around the cool metal handle just as arms clamp around me from behind.
I struggle but I’m weak and dizzy. Helpless. A newborn fawn.
‘Please,’ I beg. ‘Stop.’
This time, when the cloth goes over my mouth, it doesn’t come away.
Slowly, reluctantly, I sink into the dark.
Chapter Thirteen
1 Day Missing
Elodie Fray
I’m trapped in a car. Have been for hours. I woke alone on the backseat under a sheet. I haven’t seen my abductor since I was taken; I’m terrified he’ll return. Thankfully, my arms and legs are unbound so if he comes for me again, I can fight him off. Maybe this time I’ll be successful.
There’s a huge gash on my arm where I smashed into the mirror, and dried blood crusts on my skin and pyjamas. The wound has been haphazardly bandaged. The thought of him handling me in my sleep makes my stomach roil. I don’t know what he wants with me, but if he wanted me dead, why patch me up first?
Ever since I woke, confused and nauseous, I’ve tried to escape. It’s impossible. In my many attempts to smash the windows, I’ve bruised my elbows and bare feet. I remember reading an article about using the steel rods of a headrest to smash a car window in an emergency, but my attacker must’ve read the same one because he’s removed them. He’s disconnected the horn too, so no matter how many times I’ve slammed my fists into it, it doesn’t so much as squeak. Even if the horn did work, I’m not sure there’s anyone around to hear it.
I’m in the woods. For as far as I can see, there are trees. Trees and no sign of anyone else.
On the front seat is a bag of supplies: bottles of water, energy bars, a sick bag. I’ve thrown up twice, through fear or my body rejecting whatever drugs are in my system, I don’t know. Despite sealing the bag, without being able to open a window, I’m breathing in the thick, acidic tang of vomit.
My attacker didn’t show his face, but I’m sure it’s the man who’s been following me; he was just as broad and thickset. He knew where I lived; would’ve seen the broken lock … But why take me only to abandon me in a car? My stomach turns over again. Is he out there, in the woods, watching me? It’s no use, but I scream for help again anyway. My throat is raw. I scream until all I can do is silently sob.
‘Fuck!’ I shout. I kick the back door; pain shoots up my shin. ‘Fuck!’
Despite being confined to a car in the height of summer, I am shivering so hard, my teeth clang together. Exhausted, I rest my head against the window and fight to keep my eyes open. Eventually though, I lose that battle too.
I jolt awake at the sound of a fist on the car window. I whip around. I blink and blink again.