A fist slams into my side, and my world tips as I’m tossed onto the rough floor. I don’t react in time, and the trunk lid slams in my face.
Darkness swallows me whole.
The car lurches forward, tires screeching out of the parking lot, and I roll, slamming into the back of the third-row seats. I clamp down on my tongue so I don’t plead or cry out. To hell with these human trafficking pieces of shit. I’m not going to beg for my life.
The scent of rubber and gasoline clings to the air as the engine growls. Sharp turns, one right after the other, cause my heart to pound, but soon, the road smooths out, and the car hums along.
The men inside are silent, creepily so. The decision to sit up wars within me, but I wouldn’t put it past them to be watching. Adrenaline surges, making my already shaky hands tremble further as I blindly reach out for anything—any latch or weakness. I freeze when my fingers land on a blanket. Images of me not making it rip through my mind—being killed and wrapped up in this wool blanket, buried, and left for wild animals to find.
Shuddering, my thoughts spiral. Where are they taking me? Why? Who are they?
Mitch.
Hannah.
They’ll notice when I don’t return from my break and, hopefully, after being sufficiently pissed for twenty minutes or so, they’ll call the police or …
Noah.
I push against the trunk lid. It doesn’t budge.
The car takes another abrupt turn, and I slide, my elbow skimming over the carpeting. It burns, and without thinking, I shout, “Learn how to drive, you sick bastards!”
Silence.
And then …
A sadistic chuckle.
A whimper slips out before I can stop it. My eyes burn as I fight back more tears.
Don’t cry. Panicking won’t help.
I press my palms to my eyes, my pulse hammering in my skull. I’m trapped.
It grows darker as the sun sets, and having kept to my fetal position, I can only stare at the surrounding world from this angle. The clouds are a deep orange and red, and as the car hisses along, the tops of pine trees grow larger. The steady rhythmic whoosh of passing cars slows until I’m fairly certain we are on the road alone.
A metallic clatter echoes from the front, and I muster the courage to peek over the seat. Two men are in the front and two in the second row. The driver and two men in the second row have their ski masks pulled up, resting on their forehead. However, the man in the front passenger seat doesn’t have one at all. I can make out his dark hair and straight posture, but that’s it.
My stomach twists. Is he the one that laughed? He must’ve been the man who yelled.
The car turns off the main road, jolting onto the uneven dirt with a grinding crunch. Loose gravel spits beneath the car as it bumps and dips, and dust kicks up in the car’s wake, swirling in the rearview.
Trees close in and grow thicker, their shadows stretching tall in the fading light as we wind deeper into the woods. Unintelligible whispers from the front filter back.
We’re getting close to something. They’re restless.
When the car stops, I duck, making myself smaller and tucking into the corner. I blink, adjusting to the darkness, butwhen the men get out of the car, the dome light turns on and I can’t see anything outside besides my reflection.
I inhale a shaky breath, trembling as I wait for them. Swallowing, the click in my throat is loud in the silent car.
The light goes off, and movement outside makes me exhale an unsteady tremor.
The trunk opens, the incessant beeping like some hellish omen. I push back, watching it to find the same three men who grabbed me standing there. The fourth is turned looking away from me, and it raises the hairs on the back of my neck.
The man in the middle of the group leans forward, extending a hand for me, but I ignore it. He sighs while the man to his right reaches in to grab my foot.
“Get off of me!” I kick again, but they’re less worried about making a scene now that we’re in the middle of nowhere.
