Perfect Strangers

‘Hello?’ she said tentatively, remembering the threat about speaking. ‘Is anyone—’ She cried out as something heavy was thrown on top of her. It rolled and slithered to one side, then she heard a gasp and a cough: Josh! Her heart leapt – he was alive! She felt a small sliver of hope as she heard the van doors slam and the vehicle began to move. Perhaps they were being taken somewhere else for questioning. Don’t be so bloody stupid, she scolded herself. They were taking them somewhere else, yes. But for disposal, not questioning. Sergei wasn’t so stupid that he’d kill someone on his own property, but then he wouldn’t want them running to the police screaming about torture either. If it were me, I’d dump us in the sea, her mind thought crazily. But another, more steady voice also spoke in her head. Fight back, Sophie, it said. Don’t let them win.

‘Josh,’ she whispered. ‘Josh, can you hear me?’

She was rewarded with a spate of coughing and she moved towards the sound.

‘Where are you?’ she said desperately.

‘Where do you’ – cough, cough – ‘think I am?’

She shook the bag off her head. In the dim light of the van, she could see Josh lying curled on his side, shivering uncontrollably. He was wet and cold and probably in shock. A black bag was over his head and his hands were tied in front of him.

She crawled over, gripped the bag between her teeth and pulled it over his hair.

‘Finally,’ coughed Josh.

Sophie smiled in the dark, despite herself.

‘What do you think they’re going to do with us?’ she asked.

Josh stiffened as another wave of coughing seized him.

‘I dunno,’ he said at length. ‘But I doubt they’re taking us to the movies.’

They lay there on the floor, listening to the engine. They weren’t making many turns: were they on the highway? Heading out of town? Sophie couldn’t even tell if they had been driving for five minutes or twenty. All she could do was lie there watching yellow lights from the crack in the door sweep across the roof of the van.

A single tear rolled down her cheek and Josh shuffled up closer to her.

‘Don’t cry,’ he said softly. ‘We’ll get through this.’

‘It’s slowing,’ she said, her body tensing again. ‘We’re turning off the road. What are they doing?’

Suddenly the rear doors opened and Sophie was grabbed by the arm by one of Sergei’s men and yanked out of the van. She was sent sprawling on to a dirt road, scraping her knees and the palms of her hands, still bound with rope. There was another thud and a groan as Josh landed next to her.

Her stomach clenched with fear. This is it, she thought, feeling faint with terror. They were going to kill them. She looked at Josh and knew she just wanted to be held by him, to die with him. The Russian towered over them. She closed her eyes, her heart hammering, a faint groan escaping from her lips. Then she heard footsteps walking away from them, and the slam of a door. She opened her eyes and saw the van skid off, its wheels sending a shower of gravel into her eyes.

‘Josh!’ she yelled, scrambling to her feet and blinking in the setting sunlight as she watched the tail lights of the van disappear towards the horizon. Relief almost knocked her to the ground again.

She wriggled her wrists around. The binding had not been put on tightly and she managed to get one hand free, then the other. She ran over to Josh and unfastened the rope around his wrists.

He took her in his arms and she started weeping.

Josh held her like that for a long time as she cried, stroking her hair, murmuring softly, ‘It’s okay, we’re safe, we’re safe now.’

Right then, she only cared that she was alive and in Josh’s arms.

Finally she pulled away from him and looked around. They were in swampland, possibly not too far away from the sea, as she could still smell the salt in the air and gulls circled overhead.

Up ahead, they could see the yellow street lights of what looked like a main road. Josh stumbled and groaned, holding his side, and Sophie put her arm around him, supporting him.

‘So what now?’ she said.

Josh nodded towards the road. ‘We should get back to Miami,’ he said firmly. ‘I wouldn’t want to be around here when it gets dark. It would be pretty lame if we survived Sergei and then got mauled by the gators.’

41

She could barely remember how they got back to the motel in Coconut Grove. Unable to reach Lana by phone, they had stumbled along the road, getting more and more anxious as the sun began to set, until finally a pick-up truck had stopped when Sophie stuck her thumb out to hitch a lift.

She had never been more glad to see a hotel room. She double-locked the door, smiling grimly at the futility of it, and went to get some towels from the bathroom. Soaking one in warm water, she wiped the blood from Josh’s face, then carefully pulled off his still wet shirt, wrapped another towel around his shoulders and dried his hair.