Taken

The rain had stopped and the sky was the rich purple of twilight when the basement door opened, the lights overhead flicking to life. Robert came down the stairs. whistling. He had changed into khaki shorts and a loud, Hawaiian shirt. He had a small paper sack in his hand. She watched silently, clutching the bars of her cage as he approached. Setting down the sack, he crouched in front of her.

“Brenda’s in the shower. We’re heading out in a couple of hours. We’ve got a ten o’clock flight.”

“What?” Jane blurted, not understanding.

“It’s your own fault, Jane,” he said, shaking his head, his expression sorrowful. “You pissed her off with that shit you pulled yesterday. She’s done with you.” He reached for the combination lock and twirled the dial. Opening the cage door, he shoved the paper sack inside and closed the door once more, relocking it.

“You’re leaving?” she squeaked, her heart squeezing painfully in her chest. What did this mean? Were they taking her with them? Or leaving her to die? “I don’t understand. What about me?”

He rose quickly to his feet. “I’ve already said too much.” He pointed to the sack. “Don’t say I never gave you nuthin’,” he added with a sudden, mean grin. “Been nice knowing you.”

“Robert,” she cried to his retreating back, using his name for the first time. “Please, tell me what’s going on.”

He didn’t slow his stride or turn around. She heard him climb the stairs. The light flicked off and the door clicked closed.

She slumped back in her cage, her heart pounding. This was good, right? They were leaving! And, based on his words that it was nice knowing her, she had to assume they were leaving her behind.

Jane drew in a sharp, excited breath. This was excellent news! They had no idea she knew the combination to her prison cell. All she had to do was bide her time until they were gone, and then make her move.

She looked toward the window again, formulating her plans.

As soon as she was sure they were gone, she would open her cage and make a run for it.

A sudden horrible thought crashed into her brain. What about the deadbolt on the other side of the basement door? She’d noticed it each time they brought her upstairs. To her knowledge, they’d never used it, presumably because they always left her locked in the cage. But what if, this one time, they decided to use it?

She nearly slumped in defeat, but then drew herself up. She was not going to give up. Not this close to freedom.

She made herself think logically. Why should they bolt the door this one time? After all, as far as they knew, she was locked safely away in her cage. But what if they did?

Then she’d find another way out. She’d use the ladder in the storage room to reach the basement window. If that wouldn’t open, she would break the glass and squeeze through. If the opening was too small, she would get more tools out of the toolbox and break down the goddamn basement door.

One way or the other, she was going to get herself free.

They always left their car keys hanging by the door to the garage. She would take whichever car they’d left and head straight for the nearest police station. She would pour out her horrific tale, and they would find and arrest the couple.

Except she had no idea where the pair was headed.

Or if the cops would even believe her. The whole thing was too bizarre to be real.

The thought of having to explain the details of her abduction and the horror story she’d lived through to a bunch of strangers made her feel queasy.

Even if she did manage to convince the police, and they were able to find and arrest Brenda and Robert, there would be a trial. Jane would be placed on the stand in front of all the world.

The two were clearly wealthy beyond her imagination. They would engage the top attorneys in the country. Jane would be interrogated and publicly humiliated on the witness stand. She’d read enough crime fiction to know how the plaintiff in a court case could be made to look guilty, or at the very least complicit.

And she would have to face her abductors in the courtroom. She never wanted to see Brenda’s sneering face or Robert’s disgusting leer ever again, unless it was in a newspaper photo of their prison mug shots.

And then there was her life—the old life they’d yanked her out of. Could she ever go back to that?

Did she even want to?

She was no longer the person she’d been before. She couldn’t imagine returning to her boring, unimportant job and her small, insular life. For all she knew, her landlord had already evicted her from her apartment in absentia. She’d probably been replaced at work, as well.