“Yeah.” She scanned the area. “Maybe it’s closed? We can just leave.”
As soon as the words left her lips a man appeared in a Vaudeville outfit. A straw hat set on top of his head. The red-and-white pinstriped sports jacket, white button-up, red bowtie, and white pants were straight out of the nineteen fifties.
“Step right up to the Tunnel of Love, folks.” It should have been charming. Instead, it made her skin crawl. She tugged her borrowed jacket closer to ward off the coldness that threatened to seep into her bones. Clark ushered her over to the boat, holding her hand as she stepped down into the vehicle that bobbed in the water.
“Enjoy your ride.” There was a strange look in the operator’s eyes she couldn’t quite place. Watching him over her shoulder as the Swan began to drift into the darkened passageway, a frown turned down the corners of her lips.
“Did he seem strange to you?” She turned her gaze to Clark.
“W
e are at a carnival.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” She smiled.
Ducking down to eye level, he stared. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“There was actually something I wanted to tell you.” She toyed with the ring on her finger, spun it around to disperse negative energy as she trained her gaze on her lap.
“What’s up? You know you can tell me anything. That’s what best friends are for.” Their boat bumped the one in front of them. “Pile up in the Tunnel of Love.”
She laughed, but her heart wasn’t in it. The apprehension from earlier returned.
“What were you going to say?” he redirected the conversation.
“That.” She glanced up at him and froze when she caught a glimpse of a shape in the darkness. The clown from earlier was right behind him. Her throat seemed to swell and her tongue felt thick and clumsy as she opened her mouth to warn him.
“Cl—”
A cloth covered her mouth. Her scream ended before it began. The sweet, chemical smell assaulted her senses, and she knew no more.
Her eyes fluttered open and she was met with an intense darkness. She swallowed in an attempt to moisten the Sahara Desert of her mouth. Her head pounded. A humming filled her ear, and the gentle rocking motion told her it was a vehicle of some sort. She tried to move her limbs and couldn’t.
They’d bound her.
Panic set in. She rolled, made contact with something solid, and returned to her former position. Her head spun and her stomach churned. A grunt spilled into the air.
“Clark?” Her voice was scratchy. The whispered word was painful.
“Yeah. I’m here.” He sounded weak.
She did her best to look in the direction his voice had come from but ropes restrained her. “Are you okay?”
“I think so… What happened?”
“We-we’ve been kidnapped.” She wiggled her wrists, trying to loosen the rope. “We have to get out of here. There’s no way they plan on letting us go. Neither of us comes from a wealthy family, so it can’t be a ransom situation.” A heartbeat passed. “Clark?”
“We can get out of here. My dad’s helped design cars for years. Somewhere in here there should be a release latch. Look over my shoulder. Do you see anything giving off light?”
She focused on his words, scanned the area, and caught a tiny spot with a green hue. “Yes.”
“Good, scoot over here. I don’t want them to hear us. What you’re seeing should be the trunk release mechanism. It can be a lever, handle, or cord.”
“I want you to direct me to it.” She fought to keep her rapid breathing under control, but the darkness was suffocating. Steady, won’t be any good to him passed out. Shock had begun to wear and in its place, terror had taken a foothold.
“Okay.” Her voice shook, but she held it together by the grace of God and the will to survive that got people through when all they wanted to do was break down. Since the area was impossible to see, she guess-timated where his body lay. “Scoot back.” She heard the whisper of cloth. “I think you need to scoot up.” More rustling then a thud.
“Ow. This is as far as I can go.” He wiggled, blocked the glow. “Okay… I got it. Next time this car stops or slows we’re getting out. Come as close to me as you can get.”