Page 76 of All Wrong
“Pull off up here,” one of the men said.
Corinne’s first thought was that this was where they were going to shoot her and dump her body. Her heart began to thump hard in her chest, turning the volume up on her headache.
“We need gas, and I need a smoke.”
Corinne’s second thought was that they must have been driving for some time because she’d filled up her tank on her way back from the mountains.
The vehicle slowed. The high-pitched hum of the tires lowered to something deeper, and Corinne manipulated her body to the extent she was able, placing her back against the backseat and bringing her knees up tight to her chest. If they opened therear hatch, she’d have only one chance of escape, so she had to make it a good one. She didn’t know anything about her captors, and while she did know some self-defense, the element of surprise was her best weapon. Kick out, catch them off guard, and hope to hell someone else was at the gas station or that the place at least had security cameras.
She didn’t get the chance. No one checked on her, and within a few minutes, they were back on the road.
She dropped off at some point, then came to again as her body bounced around. Smooth asphalt had become a bumpy road. She hugged herself into as tight of a ball as she could manage, trying to minimize the damage. The pain in her head got so bad that she blacked out several times, only to come to and repeat the process.
How long that lasted, she didn’t know, but eventually, the SUV came to a stop, and the lack of motion was like a heavenly gift. Until she realized it probably meant the end of the line for her.
One door slammed, then another as her captors exited the vehicle.
“Jesus, I think I lost a kidney. Can’t imagine what it was like for her. Think she’s still breathing?”
“It’d make our job easier if she isn’t. Take a look around.”
“What the fuck for? There hasn’t been a sign of civilization for the last thirty miles.”
“Do it anyway.”
A grumble, the flick of a lighter, the sound of boots on loose ground, growing fainter as they headed away. A second set of heavy footsteps, growing closer.
Another chance. One guy instead of two. She had to make the most of it. She curled up tight, coiling her legs.
The rear hatch opened. The blanket was ripped off her body, and Corinne felt the warmth of late afternoon sunshine. She was glad for the blindfold; after so many hours in the dark, she would have been blinded.
Something stopped her from kicking out.Not yet, something screamed in her head. She listened.
Nothing happened for several long moments. She could feel his eyes on her, but sensed he was too far away. She needed him closer if she wanted to kick anything other than air.
Something hard and metallic pushed against her shoulder.A gun.She allowed her torso to roll with it,then flopped back to where it was when the pressure abated.
“All clear,” the other guy said, returning. Another flick of a Bic, the sound of a deep inhale. “She still out?”
“Appears to be,” came the reply, but the guy didn’t seem convinced.
Corinne guessed her possum routine needed some work. She tried harder, letting herself float among the blackness and the stars of pain.
Another poke. Another prod. A squeeze of her breast. A rough hand shoved between her legs. It took everything she had not to tense up or fight back, but ultimately, survival trumped disgust.
“Yeah, she’s out.”
“Good. That’ll make this easier. I fucking hate when they beg. Keep that needle handy in case she wakes up.”
“Maybe we should give her another dose, just to make sure.”
“You don’t think I can handle her if she does?”
“Might be kinder. Just saying.”
A harsh laugh. “Growing a conscience?”
Gloved fingers pushed the hair back from her face. “Nah. Shame though. She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she?”
