My mind said, “Run for it, bitch!” but my legs said, “Ha-ha, no. Enjoy the murdering.”
One thing I could do. Lie there like a dead fish.
Even my mouth wouldn’t open to let me answer the person invading my personal bubble. I couldn’t talk or move.
The only thing I could rightfully do was panic. So I did a lot of that with hopes the adrenaline would cleanse my body of the paralyzing drug faster. The longer I kept my heart rate up and worked it out of my system, the faster I’d be able to karate chop the man who had my head in his lap.
I never learned how to karate chop anything, but I figured once the drug released my body, I’d come out arms flailing and whatever happened, happened.
I stopped trying to wiggle body parts because I didn’t want the person—who definitely wasn’t a pearl—realizing I’d gained control of anything other than my fingers. If I resumed function over my limbs, I’d get started on that karate chopping part when I caught him off guard.
As I waited, more memories of the evening flitted into my mind. I finished my shift at the hospital and had almost made it to my car in the parking lot. I wasn’t paying attention to anyone else because I couldn’t wait to start my vacation. A solid week to sit around in pajama pants and watch television. They weren’t super exciting plans, but getting kidnapped was not how I wanted to spend the first day I’d had off in years.
I’d just reached my car—visions of Lifetime Channel binges swimming in my head—when I beeped to unlock the doors at the same time a tall built man stepped out from the shadows.
His body blocked half the light from an overhead fixture. I tried not to judge him from his size and he smiled. So he seemed friendly enough. I smiled back and continued for my car.
“Are you a nurse?” he’d asked.
A warning bell rang but not loudly enough. I hadn’t binged those Lifetime movies yet to be properly worried.
“Yes,” I said, doing a quick glance at my dark blue scrubs.
In the next second, he stood beside me and the two years of self-defense I took in college completely flew out of my head. Then a poke in my neck and pain from where he inserted a needle too far. And that’s it.
I had no other memories. Whatever he injected me with acted fast. As I lay there unmoving, I noticed more parts of my body getting tingly. I had to be regaining movements even though I was still too worried about the man pearl to move anything and experiment.
As pieces of me came back online, I didn’t feel different. Still heavy and groggy, but it seemed I had on clothes. I didn’t have any horrible pains coming from anywhere in particular. I didn’t seem violated —besides the kidnapping.
What did me being a nurse have to do with anything? He didn’t ask my name. Only my profession.
Nurses were always getting crapped on.
If I survived, I’d leave the nursing field and become a secretary. No one from the first-floor secretary pool got kidnapped.
My toes wiggled for the first time and I had another silent celebration, making sure this time I moved nothing else. The arms that earlier held me released my upper body, but his heat warmed my back so I knew he hadn’t left me. The air lost the fishy residue smell and instead I noticed hints of a male’s cologne. It would have smelled great if a thick layer of grease didn’t coat the air and block out most of the scent.
Also, I’d enjoy the cologne more if I hadn’t been biding my time to attack the good-smelling man.
My neck jerked. Or it felt like a jerk. I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure because I refused to move it, but my limbs were definitely coming back under my control. Fingers, presumably from the person who had my head resting in their lap, ran their fingers through my hair, pulling it away from my face with gentle movements.
Did they kidnap me for the sex trade? I watched Dateline and heard the stories.
No, at twenty-six and definitely not a virgin, I didn’t know what use I’d be to them. Besides, North Carolina didn’t seem like a hot spot for kidnapping. Those things only happened to women on vacation and Lifetime movies.
Plus, I wasn’t even that pretty. I had the girl next door thing going for me, but I was not supermodel pretty by any means. I was only fifty percent sure I was even using makeup correctly when I wore it.
My eyes opened of their own accord and I blinked a few times to bring them into focus. As expected, a knee clad in dark jeans hovered beside my face on top of a dark concrete floor. I didn’t dare move my head and look elsewhere.
“I know you’re awake,” the man’s voice said.
Shit. It was now or never on the karate chop. I put my energy into moving every muscle in my body at one time. In my head, I imagined I’d jump out of his lap, turn gracefully in the air, and land with one foot on the ground and the other in a kneeling position. Much like a superhero right before the big fight scene.
That did not happen.
I only had control of about twenty-five percent of my limbs, so I didn’t jump off of his lap gracefully but more rolled and flopped around resembling the dead fish I’d compared myself to earlier.
I worked hard to scramble as far away from him as possible, dragging one leg behind me, but it quickly became obvious I couldn’t get far. The kidnappers had us both in a cage.
