22
Kinsley took a deep breath on the porch and coughed. An eerie yellowish-red cast lingered in the sky. It seemed like she was in one of those doomsday movies. Armageddon.
The forest fire was clearly coming closer. The logging path led in that direction. Was he really going to head into the fire? She shuddered.
“Stop stalling.” Yapp jabbed the gun harder. “Keep moving, and we won’t have a problem.”
She held her stance. “But the fire. We can’t go in that direction.”
“You’ll do what I say if you want to stay alive.” He jerked her down the steps and onto the cobblestone walk that led to the driveway. He set off at a rapid pace, and sadly, they reached the gate before anyone came to her rescue.
“Enter that code,” he demanded.
She took her time moving to the keypad and pressing the keys in the number order that Jada had shared. The gate clicked and started to swing in, the motor groaning as it pushed the wide gate open. Reid could see the gate opening if he were looking at the security program, but at this time of night, he was likely in bed and paying no attention to it. Unless of course, after a certain time of day, it issued an alarm, waking him up.
Please let that happen.
She glanced up at the camera, eyed it, trying to beg Reid to come to her rescue. She didn’t know if this was one of the cameras Yapp had taken out or not, but it didn’t hurt to try something that wouldn’t get her killed.
He jerked her arm and hurried across the road, then down the ditch and back up to the logging road. This wasn’t the beginning of the road as there was no entrance from the main thoroughfare, but he pushed her straight ahead toward the fire.
Oh please, don’t let us have an issue with the fire.
They shouldn’t. At least she hoped they wouldn’t. They hadn’t been notified via a text message or by a law enforcement officer coming to the cabins to tell them to leave, so it couldn’t have advanced close enough to require evacuation.
She tried to slow down, but Yapp grabbed her around the waist with his free arm and picked up his speed, forcing her to come along with him. She had to move quickly to keep up, but soon she saw an old rusty pickup. If they were heading toward a fire, she would much rather be riding in a newer vehicle. This one looked like the truck models she remembered in her childhood and also looked like it could fall apart at any time.
“Are you sure this truck is safe?” she asked.
“Doesn’t matter. Was the only thing I could afford coming out of prison, so it’ll have to do.” He released his arm around her waist, leaving the gun resting against her temple, and opened a large tool storage bin in the truck bed. He pulled out a thick rope. “Hold your hands out.”
She did as he asked, and he wound the rope around her wrists. He put the gun in his belt and cinched the rope hard, cutting into her skin.
Now! Run now.
She bolted away from him. She’d gone three feet, tasting her freedom. The rope jerked hard. Spinning her around. He slammed her against the side of the truck.
Pain radiated up her back, her ribs feeling like he might’ve broken one or more of them, and she had to fight not to cry out.
He slammed an elbow to her ribs to hold her body in place. He must’ve seen her reaction to hitting the truck. She didn’t want to let him know he’d hurt her. To give him satisfaction. She tried to clamp down on her lips, but a cry of pain escaped before she could.
“That’ll be the least of your pains if you try anything like that again.” He tied the rope tighter, digging deeper into her skin.
He lifted his gun again, placing it on the other side of her head, and opened the driver’s side door. With his free hand, he held the length of rope. “Get in, stay in the middle, and no funny business.”
She wouldn’t do anything right now, but she sure would continue to look for an opening to get away from him.
She slid under the steering wheel and across the cracked bench seat, stopping in the middle as he directed. No reason to take any chances with the gun still at her head. Even if she wanted to act, he’d given the rope very little slack, leaving her no choice but to obey him.
For now.
She expected him to climb in, instead he tied the end of the rope around his waist, then removed the gun and got behind the wheel.
Sure, she was still his prisoner, but at least she didn’t have that infernal gun at her head anymore. A sense of freedom gave her hope she would find a way to escape this madman.
He cranked the engine, and it took several tries before the vehicle rumbled to life, running rough. Maybe it would break down before he could escape and someone would come to her rescue.
She glanced at the radio playing country western music. “Can we at least tune in to the local emergency channel and listen for evacuation orders?”
