Читать книгу Taken - Lori L. Harris - Страница 7

Chapter Two

Time unknown

The pain started at the back of Jillian’s head but radiated throughout her body. The floor under her vibrated and swayed. Cold. She was so damned cold. And there was a strong odor of urine in her nostrils. Like a public restroom.

A sour taste filled her mouth. Vomit? Had she gotten drunk? Was that why her head hurt and everything seemed to be moving?

Fighting a surge of nausea, she forced open her eyes and faced total darkness, the kind that had frightened her as a child and at the moment still did.

Where was she? She tried to lift her head, to get her bearings, but nearly passed out as agony radiated through her skull.

Don’t move. She sucked in a shallow breath. Then another. That’s it. Just breathe.

In the process of trying to round up enough saliva to swallow, Jillian realized the vile taste came from some type of pill caught between her lip and her lower front teeth. She spit it out, but, as another wave of pain overtook her, wondered if she’d made a mistake. Maybe it had been an aspirin.

Jillian tried again to clear her head. Had she hit it somehow? Fallen? But why would she be lying in straw that reeked of urine? In what seemed to be some sort of moving vehicle? Some type of truck?

From the way that sound bounced around the space, it seemed to be a fairly large one.

Moving carefully this time, she shifted, looking for a more comfortable position. Her arms felt heavy, weighted down. She shifted her legs but recoiled when her left shin touched the straw. It felt as if someone had stabbed her there repeatedly with an ice pick. And it wasn’t just her shin and head that hurt, either. Her whole body ached.

What in the hell had happened to her? Had she been in some kind of accident?

A gun blast…

Everything came back to her in a horrible rush. She and Megan had been driving down to Charleston. The woman in the road. The man with the shotgun.

Jillian clenched her eyes as the next memory hunted her down there in the dark. The sound of a shot fired in the woods. Dread filled her chest. Megan. She searched her memory but couldn’t recall what happened next.

“Megan?” In her head, she screamed her sister’s name, but she knew in reality her voice had barely been a whisper.

“Jill—Jilly? That…that you?” Megan’s voice came from right behind her.

Ignoring the pain, Jillian reached out. A chain rattled and she realized there truly was weight around her wrist. A single manacle. She was chained up.

“Jilly? Where are you?”

“Here.” Unable to see, she scooted toward her sister’s voice. Was there enough slack in the chain to reach her?

To her surprise, she found her sister lying almost next to her in the straw. Fumbling her way upward along Megan’s arms, Jillian discovered that her sister was chained up, too. Jillian ran her fingers up until she found Megan’s face. Her cheeks were cool to the touch. “Megan? Are you okay? I heard a gunshot. Were you hit?”

“N-no.” Her sister’s voice sounded slurred. “They…they gave me some kind of pill. You, too.”

Turning away, Jillian forced a finger down her own throat. She immediately retched into the straw, but it took several more attempts before she actually vomited. And it wasn’t until she dry heaved that Jillian finally sank back to the floor. How much of the drug had already reached her system, though?

Suddenly recalling her cell phone, Jillian dug into her jacket pockets but didn’t find it. No doubt they’d taken it from her.

“Megan?” When her sister didn’t respond, she nudged her. “I need you to force a finger down your throat.”

“Tried. Did…. didn’t work.”

Jillian shook Megan’s shoulder hard. “I need you to try again.”

Megan obediently turned onto her side.

As Jillian listened to her sister’s repeated attempts to vomit, she wondered about the woman they’d tried to save. Had she made it? Or was she already dead? And if dead, had they left her in the middle of the road? Or was she concealed somewhere close by in the dark?

She recalled their attacker’s confidence. He’d seemed unconcerned about discovery.

“No…good,” Megan said after long moments. “This is all my fault…getting us lost.”

“Neither of us is responsible.” Jill moved closer, straining to see. Megan appeared to be lying on her side, her knees drawn to her chest.

Jillian smoothed the hair back from Megan’s forehead. “Tell me everything you can. How many are there?”

“Two.”

“Was I out very long?”

“Don’t…don’t know,” Megan mumbled. “Tired. Cold.”

“What about the woman? Do you know what they did with her?”

“Here.”

Jillian scanned the intense darkness. “Lady. Are you there?” she called, and then waited for any sign of life. When there was none, she leaned over her sister again. “Did the men say anything?”

Megan pulled her legs even tighter to her chest. “Say ’bout what?”

Jillian gave her sister a gentle shake. “Where they’re taking us. What they plan to do with us.”

She didn’t really expect her sister to know those answers. Obviously, Megan was half-gone with whatever they’d given her.

“Kill…us. Like woman.”

“They said that?” Jillian waited for her sister to answer, but she didn’t. “Megan?” Jillian gave her a hard shake this time. “Stay with me.”

But when she still didn’t respond, Jillian sat back. With Megan out, it was going to be up to Jillian to protect both of them. But how? As long as they were chained up, they were pretty much helpless.

Jillian propped her back against the mesh wall and carefully straightened her injured leg. If she flexed her toes, she could just reach the opposite mesh wall. If she had to make a guess, the truck must normally be used to haul some type of livestock.

Given the truck’s speed, she assumed the road they were on to be a secondary one and not a major highway. Was it possible that she’d been unconscious only a short time? That they hadn’t gone all that far? Were still in the Francis Marion National Forest?

If she could get them free from the shackles and get the back doors open, they could wait for the truck to slow even more and…

Jillian tried forcing the manacle over her hand. Unsuccessful, she collapsed her palm at the same time as she pulled. Continuing to manipulate the cuff, she rocked it back and forth as she twisted.

She added some hard-to-come-by spit to her wrist. She’d been fortunate to avoid the full dose of whatever they’d given Megan, but she couldn’t count on that happening a second time. Once drugged, there would be no hope of escape.

Just as there was already no hope of rescue.

With no witnesses to their abduction, who would miss them? No one back home expected to hear from them. And even though they had confirmed reservations at one of Charleston’s better hotels, the hotel staff wasn’t likely to call the authorities when Jillian and Megan failed to check in. They’d run the cost for one night’s stay through on Jillian’s credit card and then cancel the other two nights. And when Jillian didn’t show up for her job interview tomorrow, her résumé would hit the circular file. End of story.

Eventually someone might find Jillian’s abandoned car. But by the time the police were brought in, the trail would be cold. The story of two missing sisters might make America’s Most Wanted, but after a few months another kidnapping, another unfortunate incident would push their plight into the background. And with no family to stoke anyone’s memory, she and Megan would be forgotten.

She couldn’t let that happen. It couldn’t end like this. She wouldn’t allow it. Somehow. Some way. They were going to survive this.

In sudden frustration, Jillian tore at the manacle and in the process peeled open the heel of her hand. Cursing, fighting tears, she bent over her wrist. She’d heard of animals chewing off a paw to escape a trap and of people cutting off a limb just to survive, but she didn’t have any type of instrument to accomplish an amputation. And even if she did, she doubted that she could actually go through with the self-mutilation. At least not yet.

But would it come to that? Would there come a time when she’d be willing to do just about anything? She decided it might be best not to think about the future. Swallowing her tears, Jillian ran her hands upward over the wire-mesh wall to the overhead mesh. For now she needed a skinny piece of metal.

She’d only picked one lock in her life and there’d been someone standing over her shoulder the whole time, explaining the process, but at least it would keep her from going crazy while she came up with something better.

With a quick indrawn breath, she jerked her fingers back, having encountered something sharp. After several seconds, going back to the same spot, she explored more cautiously but just as desperately.

A sharp scraping sound, like nails across a chalkboard, shrieked from overhead. Even though she was encased in suffocating blackness, Jillian stopped moving and stared upward for several seconds. When another screech followed the first, she realized it was just a low tree limb dragging across the outside of the truck, and went back to what she was doing.

It seemed as if she’d exhausted every inch of available surface before she finally located a piece of metal that wasn’t firmly attached on one end. With her second attempt to break it off, she managed to rip off the meaty end of her finger instead. With the sixth attempt, she jammed it beneath her fingernail. With no other choice, and blood now interfering with her ability to grasp, she continued as best she could, stopping only when she could no longer hold her arm above her head.

Finally the two-inch length of metal broke free and immediately fell into the straw.

Desperately, Jillian foraged. This was literally a needle in a haystack. She’d never find it. Panic tightened her chest, as dread deepened inside her. As long as she had a course of action, she’d been okay, but suddenly the ability to cope evaporated.

After several difficult seconds, she managed to partially rein in the panic. She needed to keep it together. The piece of metal would be heavier than the straw. Maybe it had dropped through the bedding, was resting against the floor. Finding the piece of metal where the back wall met the floor, Jillian picked it up and settled back, her manacled hand resting in her lap.

Holding the crude pick between the thumb and first two fingers of her free hand, she used the remaining two fingers to locate the lock, then in an awkward movement attempted to shift the pick forward and into the opening. She kept at it even after her fingers had gone numb from the pain and the cold.

The truck slowed to make a sweeping right turn. Everything seeming to creak and shift at once—the metal overhead, the wood wall next to Megan, the floorboards under Jillian. Holding her breath, Jillian waited for the truck to accelerate. When it finally did, it wasn’t nearly as fast. Were they stopping?

Frantic, she shifted into a different position and jammed the metal pick down. The lock suddenly clicked, and the manacle slid off with a soft clang.

Jillian immediately rolled onto her knees. As she reached for Megan’s handcuff, her sister stirred.

“Megan, wake up!”

“Jilly?”

“I’m free,” Jillian said. “We just need to get you loose, too.”

Megan tried to sit up, but quickly lost her balance and flopped into the straw again. When she tried to sit up the next time, Jillian stopped her. “It might be better if you don’t try to help me.”

“Hurry.”

Jillian had expected it to be easier the second time, but quickly realized that her first success had been nothing more than sheer luck. She jabbed the piece of metal into the opening.

Suddenly braking again, the truck made a hard left and immediately adopted a waddling motion as if it rode the ruts of a washed-out road.

Losing her balance, Jillian wobbled forward, then was thrown backward, her right shoulder and the side of her head bouncing off the mesh. Brake pads squealed as the truck slowed; its tires churned through soft sand or mud for a minute or more before giving up.

As soon as the truck came to a halt, Jillian reached for Megan’s wrist again.

“Why did they stop?” Megan mumbled.

Jillian listened as she worked at the lock, asking herself the same question. Was the stop only temporary? Had they stopped to relieve themselves? To check their route?

Two seconds later the engine was shut down. In the ensuing silence, the sound of the radio in the cab drifted through, the station a country-western one.

A door opened, the hinges screeching for oil. Jillian briefly heard the rumble of male conversation. She went still, waiting to find out if a second door would be opened.

Her brain leapfrogged. What was she going to do? And how? And when? She’d been so focused on getting free of the manacle, seeing that as the first obstacle, that she hadn’t given any thought to the next step.

Jillian searched for the handcuff that she’d removed only minutes earlier. Finding it, she pulled it next to her. Did she have the courage to place it around her wrist again?

When the cab door suddenly slammed, Megan and Jillian both jerked. Jillian immediately rotated Megan’s cuff until she found the lock, but neither woman spoke.

Nearly a minute later, there came a rhythmic sound that Jillian couldn’t identify. What did it matter, anyway, what they were doing? What was important was getting Megan free.

What about the woman from the road, though? What if she was still alive? If she was chained up, too, which Jillian assumed she would be, there wasn’t time to free her.

But how could they leave her behind?

Having ceased for nearly a minute, the sound started up again, outside. Megan shifted. “Oh God…they’re digging. Why?”

Jillian tried to ignore the question. The answer was too obvious.

“Jilly?”

“Don’t think about it.” But now that Jillian knew the origin of the sound, she could no longer block it out. Was that the reason they’d stopped? Was the woman dead and they intended to bury her?

Or were they digging three graves?

The sound stopped. The silence that followed was even more frightening.

When the latch on the truck’s rear door rattled, Megan pushed Jillian away. “No more time.”

“I’m not going without you.”

“One of us gets away, the other…better chance.” Megan’s fingers, suddenly strong, grabbed Jillian’s arm. “Go! Get help.”

The sound of the door being shoved upward was like that of a small roller coaster clattering to a stop. As moonlight penetrated the interior, Jillian got a look at their surroundings.

At first, she thought she’d hallucinated. That the drugs were somehow responsible for what she was seeing. But as Megan stiffened beside her, she knew that she wasn’t that lucky.

Oh God!

There had to be at least six young women—maybe even teenagers—out cold and chained up like livestock, one to a mesh stall. Some wore only shorts and T-shirt. Others had on jeans and sweaters. Despite the cool temperature in the truck, there were no blankets covering any of them.

The woman they’d been trying to save was there, too. Her light-blue skirt wrapped her waist like a thick belt, and her blouse lay open, exposing her rib cage. She wasn’t in a stall, though, and didn’t appear to be restrained like the rest. Did that mean she was dead?

As a man climbed up into the truck, his body briefly blocked the moonlight. It wasn’t the same gun-toting scum from the road. This one was closer to Jillian’s height, five-seven or five-eight, and was dressed in jeans and cowboy boots.

As if he had a single objective, he headed to the front of the truck. Once there, he nudged the woman from the road. When she didn’t respond, he dug the toe of his boot into her back and gave a hard shove, rolling her without resistance onto her belly.

Next, he grabbed her by the arms and hauled her to a spot just inside the door. As he returned to the front of the cargo area again, he pulled a medicine bottle from a front pocket and shook out a pill, clearly intending to dose the other women.

Already unconscious, the first one didn’t fight when he shoved whatever it was into her mouth. He moved counterclockwise to the next girl. She wore jeans, a pink sweatshirt and a pair of athletic shoes. “Come on, darlin’. You know the routine.”

He used her hair to roughly pull her head around, and then pried open her mouth. She appeared younger than the others, or maybe she was just smaller.

Jillian watched through slitted eyes. How often did they drug them? Every four hours? More often? Less often? Would she and Megan have more drugs forced into their mouths in the next few minutes, or would he skip them this time?

As he moved on to the next, Jillian glanced at Megan. But with eyes filled with shock, Megan stared at the woman from the road. Jillian wanted to reach out to Megan and offer comfort, but couldn’t because she needed to keep the empty manacle concealed. Maybe if they were lucky, he wouldn’t stop to check on them. Obviously, they hadn’t reached their final destination. The only reason they’d stopped was to bury the woman. Given more time, Jillian could free Megan.

But even once they were free, there would be the problem of getting out of the truck, since the back door was locked on the outside.

She’d made her decision by the time he stepped in front of her. If he didn’t notice that she was free, she’d stay put. If he did…

When he nudged her with his boot as he had the woman from the road, she grunted softly as if too out of it to do any more.

But then he reached down and pulled on the chain; the empty manacle swung free. “What the…?”

Jillian kicked hard. He avoided the blow. But not the one Megan landed against the back of his knee.

“Bitch!” He tried to grab the mesh wall for support, but instead went down hard.

Even as Jillian snapped the manacle around his wrist and vaulted over him, he was already yelling for his partner.

Jillian hesitated just inside the door, looking out at the dark surrounding trees, looking out at freedom. But she couldn’t jump. It was as if she were still shackled in place.

“Go!” Megan screamed.

The second man climbed out of the cab. Though she couldn’t see him, she heard the sound of a shotgun round being chambered.

“Now,” Megan shouted as she kicked at Jillian’s ankle. “You have to go now.”

Her muscles frozen, Jillian turned back to her sister. “I’ll be back for you. No matter what.”

In the split second before the second man came into view, Jillian did the most difficult thing she’d ever done in her life.

She jumped.