I wanted desperately to sit up; lying in this position was only making my head and ability to swallow worse, but something told me to lie still. Aside from an occasional sound of Morales shifting his body in the driver seat or clearing his throat, the car was quiet.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the car slowed and veered right. My heart hammered in fear. A moment later, the smell of gasoline filtered through my nostrils. He was stopping for gas. I never thought anything could smell so good, as hope slammed into my chest. This might be my shot, my only shot to get away. Could my legs even move? I felt off-balance even lying down, but I had to try.
The car slowed and then stopped, and I heard the driver-side door open and slam shut. My eyes snapped open a second later, and I assessed the situation as quickly as I could.
There was no cage separating the back seat from the front. I assumed the back doors were locked from the outside. I’d have to crawl over the console and get out through the front.
I saw Morales move away from the car in my peripheral vision. A stroke of luck. I waited a beat, took a deep, fortifying breath, and scrambled up, knowing I’d have to move fast. I crawled awkwardly over the console and opened the driver-side door. My first few steps, I felt like a newborn fawn, all knees, but I soon found my footing and picked up speed.
A quick glance around proved we were at a standard freeway exit; the streets were lined with fast-food restaurants and gas stations. My instinct told me to hide, that Morales would use his position as a detective if I sought help. I sprinted off into the trees beyond the station, forcing myself not to look back. I couldn’t tell if he followed, and I didn’t want to risk losing my stride. The darkness provided protection but was also dangerous. I could barely see what was in front of me, but my adrenaline had me pressing on. I tripped over a tree root, flying through the air and landing hard on my hands and knees, but I was up and running again before I could give it a second thought. That happened twice more, but I pressed on.
My lungs burned from exertion, my throat screaming for water, but I didn’t stop, grateful I was in good shape and had always been fast. When I couldn’t run anymore, when I knew my legs would give out if I tried, I risked a glance behind me.
Nothing. Not that I could see anyway.
I didn’t trust that I was in the clear yet, and aimed my gaze skyward. Ryan and I had spent many an afternoon climbing trees, and I aimed to do just that. I hoped the large oak a few yards away would offer the perfect cover. I hoisted myself onto the lowest limb, forcing myself to go slow, and blindly reached for the next branch, hoping it was big enough to support me. I knew there was no way I’d be getting down without daylight. I climbed one branch at a time, moving far enough up the tree that I was deep within the leaves, where I hoped to be out of sight.
Finally, I stopped. I straddled a wide branch, leaning my back against the trunk, and waited.
I sat listening to the whir of cars on the freeway to my left, of distant car horns and sirens. I was freezing and exhausted, but didn’t even think about moving. What if he’d crept into the woods quietly? What if he was down there waiting for me?
My entire body ached from whatever he’d injected me with. I’d never been so thirsty.
I had no idea how much time had passed, which seemed to be a theme for the entire evening. There was no light to the sky, which led me to believe it was still dead of night—maybe we weren’t so far out of Los Angeles after all.
I winced, thinking about how worried they must all be.
At first I thought I was hearing things when a familiar voice called my name in the distance. My heart picked up to triple time as I sat up, trying like hell to hear more clearly. Then I heard it again, clear as day.
Travis.
“Travis!” I screamed, my voice a hoarse rasp. It was like one of those nightmares when you can’t speak, or your legs are in quicksand. I tried again and managed to get my voice a little louder this time.
I breathed a sigh of relief when the beams of several flashlights turned in my direction, and Travis shouted my name again, his voice drawing closer.
“I’m up here!” I half choked, half hollered as my voice began to truly desert me.
“Em! Where are you?” he bellowed from somewhere down below.
“I’m up in an oak tree,” I rasped. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to see me, and I’m losing my voice,” I warned worriedly.
“It’s okay, babe. We’ll find you.” His confidence had me relaxing a bit. I trusted him to take care of me.
It was another minute before I heard rustling in the tree below. “You up here, babe?” Travis asked as the distant light of a flashlight became brighter.
“Y-yes,” I answered, realizing for the first time that my teeth were chattering.
“Damn, Em, didn’t know you could scale trees like this.” He grunted as the leaves rustled beneath me, heralding his arrival. A moment later, Travis’s head appeared, obstructed by the headlamp he wore, which shone so brightly I had to close my eyes against it.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “That better?”
I opened my eyes cautiously and bit my lip hard against the tears that wanted to overflow at my first sight of him.
He stood on the branch beneath me and leaned in, kissing me harder than he ever had. “Christ, Em. Are you okay?”
“I think so.” I nodded. “Do you have any water?” I asked, hearing the desperation in my voice.
He looked at me regretfully. “No, I don’t. I’m sorry. But we have some in the Jeep. Just need to get you out of here.”
