you that Denise is your daughter and she will be shot if not
today, it'll be tomorrow."
"That's it. I'm calling the police."
Chapter 20
Sarah stirred to consciousness. Everything
ached. Her wrists and ankles were shackled to a heavy iron bed
frame in one of the two rooms of the cabin. She'd spent the night
falling in and out of sleep on the hard wood floor.
Sunlight streamed through the old storm
window of the room, blinding her. She guessed the time to be around
6:00am.
She cocked an ear but heard nothing. The
cabin sat silent. She shifted and moved but couldn't find a level
of comfort.
In the corner by the window sat an old
looking desk and a wooden chair. On top of the desk was a small
stack of paperback books. She leaned forward and slid the handcuffs
up the iron rod to the top. This allowed her to be in a kneeling
position about waist high.
She looked at the storm window. Outside, she
saw barren grass for about a hundred yards and then a wall of
trees.
Something sparkling in the sunlight on the
window ledge caught her eye. She pushed herself a little harder
against her restraints to get a better look. She saw the edge of a
screwdriver. A couple of screws lay beside it. She looked to the
left and saw fresh screws at the base of the wooden window.
Then she understood. Her captor planned on
keeping his intended victim here. He hadn't just nailed the windows
shut, he'd screwed them down.
She needed to get her hands on that
screwdriver.
The strain on her wrists was becoming more
than she could bear. She dropped back to her knees and rolled onto
her side.
The door to her room banged open.
"What're you doing?"
Sarah looked up at him but didn't speak. He
was unshaven and had bloodshot eyes. It looked like he was going
through something internally that was driving him mad. She would
swear he looked rabid.
"You think you're smart, don't you? You're
in here moving around, trying to get those restraints undone. Well,
let me help you."
He rushed over, dropped down and produced a
key. In seconds, Sarah was free. She scampered on her butt up
against the wall by the window. She wanted to show fear. She also
wanted to grab the screwdriver when he turned his back. Maybe he'd
give her enough time to drive it into his back.
"I undid you so you can come out, use the
bathroom and eat. Then you're tied up and in the trunk again. We're
on the move. If you hear me tell you to stay quiet, then you do it.
If you try to signal anyone, you'll cost them their life, and
you'll pay that debt in pain, trust me. Do I make myself
clear?"
Sarah nodded.
"I said, do I make myself clear ?"
Startled by his outburst, she stuttered her
compliance.
She was pulling again. One look at her
fingers revealed hair as it fell from them. It had become an
unconscious activity.
He looked at her, bewilderment creased his
brow. "What is the matter with you? Why are you missing all that
hair? You got cancer or something?"
Sarah shook her head.
He walked over to her. "Go to the bathroom.
Let's go. Last chance at a civilized rest stop." He said this last
part while his arm pointed at the door.
No chance to grab the screwdriver now. He
hadn't taken his eyes off her the whole time.
Ten minutes later after using the bathroom
to clean the caked blood on the back of her neck and readjusting
her bandanna, she was eating sandwiches at a wooden dinner
table.
Her captor watched her intently. It was
almost like he was undressing her with his eyes.
He told her he was going to make a phone
call and that he would be right outside the cabin door for a few
minutes. When he finished the call, they would be leaving.
She had to walk all the way to the back of
the cabin, grab the screwdriver, hide it somewhere and get back to
the table before he noticed.
No time to waste. He stepped out and secured
the door behind him. She jumped from her chair and bolted to the
back of the cabin as her joints shot pain through her legs. She
brushed past the door to the room