Her heart thudded so loudly she was certain he would be able to hear it. The cigarette butt in her pocket felt heavy as a stone. Oh, this was a dumb plan! He was going to see the scattered filter tips on the floor and know what she’d been doing. He might even search her and find her phone!
He climbed inside and cast her a quick, harsh look that had turned her insides to water. Without a word he flicked on the ignition, drove forward into the long, weed-choked drive, then stopped and rammed the gearshift into reverse. Flinging one arm over the back of the seat, his fingers nearly brushing the back of her collar, he checked the mirrors, then stared over his shoulder as he eased the van backward, quickly wedging it into the dilapidated garage.
Dani could scarcely breathe.
She wondered if he would leave her there. Handcuff her to the door, gag her, abandon her and let her die in that dark, smelly, rat hole of a van with the dead girl in the trash bag behind her.
Oh, Jesus!
Her mouth was chalk.
Or would he take her with him?
Either option was bad.
She held her breath and waited.
The van was so large that there were mere inches between the exterior and the walls of the old building. But somehow, with little effort, he managed to park it without scraping the fenders. When he braked the taillights illuminated the small garage in an eerie red glow. Dani withered inside as she caught a glimpse of the cobweb-infested walls of ancient two-by-fours.
With a satisfied grunt, the creep slammed the transmission into park and cut the engine. “Come on, let’s go. Get out,” he ordered. He clicked off the autolock mechanism that kept all the passenger doors secured, allowing her door handle to work. As he opened the driver’s door, the dome light flicked on. He turned toward her—intense eyes narrowing a fraction. “Don’t try any funny stuff.” Then he stepped into the small space the door opening allowed and his gaze swept the van’s interior.
Dani froze.
“I said, let’s go!” He reached in and grabbed his pack of Marlboros, an old gas receipt and a notepad. That’s when he spotted the quashed cigarette butts spilled onto the floor near the accelerator. “What the fuck?”
His gaze cut swiftly to her face. Dani pretended not to notice as she feigned to struggle with the door. As if for leverage, she then “accidentally” kicked the dash, her foot hitting the overflowing ashtray. Other cigarettes tumbled out. “I can’t get out,” she mewled, the pitiful sound of her voice making her cringe inside. She hated acting like a pathetic, scared little kid. Even though she was frightened, all she really wanted to do was have a chance to kick him where it counted and scratch out his sicko eyes.
“Christ, you’re an idiot,” he growled, jabbing a finger at the telltale butts. “What were you doing? Trying to escape?” His lips flattened over his teeth and his eyes blazed with an evil light.
Dani shivered inside.
“Don’t get smart, kid.” He slammed the driver’s door shut and strode quickly around the back of the van.
Dani unlatched the passenger door and nearly fell out. As the bottoms of her sneakers hit the earthen floor of the garage she felt his fingers against her nape, twisting in the collar of her jacket. The smell of earth and years of dust filled her nostrils and she thought she heard wings, those of bats or an owl, overhead.
With hardly any effort he jerked her off her feet. “Listen,” he snarled against her ear, his rough beard scratching her cheek, his breath still laced with the smoke of his last cigarette. “You’d better do as I say or you’ll regret it!”
Her skin rippled in revulsion. She thought she might pee her pants. Worse yet, her cell phone began to slide against her wet skin.
He yanked her away from the van, slammed the door shut. With her feet still struggling to find purchase as he pulled her with him, he growled in her ear, “I’m warning you one last time. Don’t fuck with me. You got it? Do not fuck with me!” He shook her hard and the phone slid farther.
No!
Desperately she tried to tighten her arms closer to her body. But she could feel the cell slip.
As he dropped her to her feet, she lost her balance, tumbling against the fender of the van, feeling the hot metal of the hood as the engine ticked and cooled. The phone slid to the floor of the garage. She cringed, waiting for discovery.
“Now, move it, kid. We don’t have much time.”
He was nervous as he pushed her forward and slammed the van’s passenger door shut. But in the scuffle, he didn’t notice her cell, wedged tight against the tire. She?
?d wanted to dive for the phone but knew he’d catch her. She’d wanted to run, to scream, but any attempt to get away from him at that point would have been futile. The abandoned farm was so remote and desolate no one would ever hear her.
So, she was forced to remain passive. Help me, she silently prayed as she stumbled toward the black truck. Help me…Please, God, help me!
She wished fervently that she hadn’t skipped Sunday school any chance she could. When her mother had been alive Dani had been forced to attend, but once Mom had died, Dad hadn’t pushed the whole church thing. And she’d been glad that she hadn’t had to get up early on Sunday mornings to listen to the teacher, Jewel Lundeen, with her saccharine-sweet smile and iron will—a woman who’d forced her to memorize Bible verses and then, if she’d forgotten them, would kindly but firmly remind her how important it was for her to learn the Word of the Lord.
Worse yet, Mrs. Lundeen had seemed to really get off on stupid crafts like making Jesus puppets and putting on a play with the little figures of Jesus and all the disciples. Jesus walking on water. Jesus casting tiny bits of bread into the cellophane lake. Jesus turning the minuscule jugs of water into grape Kool-Aid.