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Our captors had suddenly started hollering at each other in Serbian, and one of them had taken me by the arm, pulling me from the crowded space.
I’d dug my heels in, trying to resist him. My hands were bound, but at some point after they’d taken me away from Bahar and the others, they’d removed the rope from around my ankles. Of course, trying to walk in my drugged condition was a joke. The times they’d permitted me a bathroom break, I probably looked like a drunken sailor on leave after a bar brawl, wobbly and ambling every which way. So, where would I have gone?
My effort to remain in that room had been fruitless. The guy had plucked me from the ground and tossed me over his shoulder, then ran me down a flight of stairs before chucking me into the open bed of a pickup truck, which was where I was now.
Focusing back on my current state, I blinked several times, trying to get a handle on the change from the dark setting I’d grown accustomed to, to the slow rise of the sun kissing the world good morning.
We were still on the move, and from the looks of it, heading toward water. The light was too much for my eyes to be sure, though. The very thing I could rely on to shed light on my current location and situation was completely overwhelming me, so I forced my eyes closed.
I hadn’t eaten in days. Only sips of water were provided to keep me alive and semi-lucid. Drugs may have still been knocking around my system, but so was the will to fight and protect myself. With my feet still free to move, I knew this would be my only chance to escape.
A blaring horn sounded from somewhere. Opening my eyes, I looked around, remembering I needed a plan to get away. Damn the drugs for making me forget so fast.
Two masked men were in the back of the truck with me, and it appeared only one person was inside the cab.
The guy at my right didn’t bother to hold on to me. He’d never expect me to go from rag doll to action figure. Now to actually do it.
If somehow I could channel a heavy dose of adrenaline, I could jump over the side. I knew how to properly tuck in my limbs to reduce the chance of breaking bones upon impact, but in my altered state, could I actually do it? I had to try. To save myself. No one was coming for me. Whoever these people were, they wanted me alive, so they wouldn’t kill me. I continued to pump myself up despite the drugs trying to lure me back into a foggy haze of comfort. Telling myself over and over again, I’ll escape. I will. Then I’ll find someone to help those people back there.
A bump in the road sent me colliding with the enemy next to me, and he shoved me away. We were on a backroad, not a highway. Going fast but not fast enough to kill me when I jumped.
With the person across from me looking away, sights set elsewhere, a hand to his ear as if trying to listen to someone or something, that was my cue to exfil, as Dad would say.
No time for another pep talk or countdown, I used the force of everything I had in me and pushed upright to standing, then threw myself over the side. Curling my body up, bound wrists lifted to cover my face, I braced for impact.
The grass alongside the small road didn’t do much to cushion my fall.
The sounds of screeching brakes echoed all around me as I rolled, tumbling down a hill. Doing my best to ignore the aches in my body, only focusing on the need to survive, I kept my elbows pinned inward and hands over my face as I fell.
When I finally came to a stop, I made it to my knees, doing my best to get my bearings. I needed to see where to go and pinpoint the threats. Thankfully, my vision wasn’t too bad, and I was only slightly farsighted; I could clearly make out objects and people at a distance as well.
By some miracle, I made it to my feet. Adrenaline compelled me forward while I peeked over my shoulder to see three masked and armed men coming for me.
Shouting, not shooting. Gaining ground, though.
I picked up my pace, unsure where I was going but not caring as long as it was away from them.
I spied ships off in the distance, so I began hauling ass toward them, praying my legs would keep going and not give out.
“Stop,” someone yelled behind me, opting for English as if that’d make me come to my senses and listen. “Stop, or I’ll shoot.”
I ignored the warning until a noise whistled by my head and punctured the metal triangular-shaped sign alongside me. I froze in place, unable to raise my hands in surrender because of my bound wrists.
Without my momentum to launch me forward and keep me going, my body gave out, and I fell to my knees.
The next shot fired wasn’t at me. I didn’t think so, at least.
Breathing hard, I sat on my heels and chanced another look back to see what was happening.
There were more men jumping out of a vehicle now. Same all-black clothes. Also armed.
Unable to tell everyone apart, and not sure if these new people were the good guys or just a different brand of enemy, I knew I had to run again and get to the ships for help.
Get up, Diana. Get up. Finally on my feet, tears flying down my face, I started to speed walk while yelling, “Help!”
A man wearing a bright orange safety vest and construction helmet was on approach.
But . . . shit. He has a gun. The man charged my direction, and I was so fatigued and disoriented, I wasn’t sure what to do.
