Phil Collins drowned the sound of my screams.
“Help me!” I slurred.
Gravel bit into my cheeks, and my eyes were so swollen that all I could see were three blurred figures standing in front of Andrew’s car.
“No one can hear you, you stupid whore,” Andrew ground while kneeling in front of me. He stood, and the sound of his belt buckle jingling forced a whimper past my lips. “Are you ready to go again?” Callen joined him in laughter, and I cried harder. “You don’t have to answer,” he said. “You’ve been such a good little slut.”
A thousand needles stabbed my scalp as Andrew jerked me up by the hair. Clouds of gravel dust coated my tongue from the way I fought, but it was no use. Andrew dragged me up the front of the bumper, the metal slicing my skin and setting fire all the down until all I could see were spinning stars in the night sky. I screamed again, clawing at his hands and begging for help I knew now would never come.
“What should I do with her?” Andrew smiled devilishly over top.
What hadn’t they done to me?
Beer bottles. Their cocks. Even their fists.
“I think,” Callen chimed in, gravel crunching off to the side as he approached. “It’s Damien’s turn.”
Andrew’s lips thinned alongside the deep furrow in his brow. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Callen said lightly, but there was a sharp edge underneath it that leftno room for argument. “You’ve had several turns. I think my little bro could use some attention before you use her up.”
“Callen, please,” Damien whimpered. I couldn’t see him though. The dust coating my eyes had become hardened by the tears running freely down my cheeks. “I don’t want to. Look at her,” he whined again. “She’s half dead.”
“Half?” Andrew laughed. He let go of me and stepped back. “Try three-quarters.”
The fucking arrogance inflating his confidence that I couldn’t run sparked the ember of rage fighting for its life inside of me. I gripped it tightly, letting myself feel its searing heat through the last shreds of life I clung to.
I would not fucking die tonight. Not here. Not by their hands.
A battle cry ripped through the night as I lashed out, kicking with every ounce of strength I could muster straight to Andrew’s groin.
His yell was guttural as he dropped to his knees, gagging and retching.
I slid from the hood, willing my legs to carry me through the battle I refused to lose. Gravel sliced through the swollen pads of my feet, but I ignored it as I ran. Adrenaline carried me through the darkness. Blood whooshed through my ears like the crash of ocean waves, blocking out the sounds of the surrounding forest.
Andrew had driven us down the only access road that led to old coal mines, long since abandoned.
They were right. I could have screamed all I wanted, and no one would have ever heard me. That knowledge urged my aching feet forward.
My lungs burned from the effort, but I couldn’t stop. If I could make it to the highway there was a chance I could flag down a car. The thought forced a pleading whine past my lips, a glimmer of hope dangling in front of me like a lifeline that was just out of reach.
The hum of an engine broke through the barrier between my ears and the world. I cried out in relief. If I could hear a car, then the highway must be close.
I squeezed that internal flame harder and picked up speed, pain no longer an obstacle I was forced to fight through.
“Help me!” I screamed, my voice finally seeming to carry through the night. Would it be enough for anyone to hear?“Help!”
Swaying branches came into focus from the yellow beam of headlights.
“Help me, please!”
“Yee-haw!”
A round of wild yips and hollers carried from behind, and that glimmer of hope morphed into the blackest pool of dread.
There was nothing ahead except an endless gravel road and my growing shadow. I was nowhere near the highway, and death was rolling up fast on four wheels.
I chanced a look over my shoulder and saw Callen hanging out of the open T-top.
