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“Hi, mom,” my eyes shut against the bright afternoon sun. “Just wanted to check in.”
A crash of glass from her end rang in my ear. “Oh, hell,” she cursed. I cringed from the muffled sounds of chaos on the other end.
There was no real reason to call— just felt like what a daughter should do after cutting ties with her father. If anything, it might spark her interest in me a little more than usual. As of late, I hadn’t been very high on her priority list.
Come to think of it, I hadn’t been very high on that list for quite some time.
“I have to go,” she said hurriedly. I nodded as if she could see and ended the call.
Glad I wore comfortable shoes; I pushed off the wall and decided to walk for a while. My options were limited and I’d already spent more than I wanted to on the ride here. With the wind at my back, I slipped my phone back into my pocket and headed down the narrow sidewalk towards the back parking lot. Once I got past the highway, it was really a straight shot. A chuckle erupted from deep in my chest at my own thought. Yeah, a straight shot of six miles.
I followed the sidewalk until it spit out into a sea of cars. Waves of heat bounced off every surface as I snaked between the cars, each one reflecting the punishing sun rays as the asphalt warmed my feet through the soles of my shoes. In too short a time, the first beads of sweat collected at the back of my neck underneath the curtain of hair. It was getting too damn hot to keep it this long, but I couldn’t bear to part with it.
Hoisting my bag higher up on my shoulder, a hollow sensation formed in my belly. It was uncomfortable and my hand lifted to press just below my sternum when I heard a honking sound across the lot. I arched to see what happened just as a sports car ripped down the side street, the driver gesturing crudely behind him. I chuckled, letting my hand drop but the feeling didn’t go away.
Two rows out from the end of the parking lot, I was already regretting my decision to walk. Suddenly the cost of another Uber didn’t sound so bad. My feet slowed while I debated with myself if it was worth it to head back into the air conditioning and wait for a ride when the screeching of tires cut through the air. I whirled around to see a black van idling in between rows. I squinted to see through the windows, but they were nearly as black as the body paint. On instinct, I took a step back, my hip bumping against another car as the hollow feeling expanded and rolled in my gut. Something wasn’t right.
I turned and set off firmly in the opposite direction. My mouth gaped open to breathe but the thick air was choking me like I was sucking through a wet rag. I quickened my pace, internally chanting to myself that it was the middle of the day and no one got murdered in the parking lot of City Hall, it was too on the nose. My stomach was settling until I heard a door open and dared to steal a glance. Two men, dressed head to toe in black, emerged from the vehicle looking directly at me. My eyes went wide and I took off, crushing my feet against the pavement with the grassy hill to the highway in my sights.
“¡Síguela,” a deep voice spoke before I heard a door slam.
Two rows, I counted as I gasped for breath. The faint pounding of footsteps sounded behind me like a ticking clock. If I just kept running, I could make it.
I weaved through the cars parked bumper to bumper, each step growing closer until I could smell the freshly gardened strip of earth. My legs burned beneath me as I pushed past the last row. As I burst from the last row, just paces away from the grass, the van whipped around the corner and skidded in front of me. I slowed and pivoted, moving to sprint past the back of the vehicle when I felt hands on my back. The air rushed from my lungs as my body flew forward. I wrenched my arms forward to stop my fall but was too slow. My face smashed into the hot metal, pain lashing across my eyebrow.
I sunk to my knees, a hot trickle of liquid spilling down my cheek. White dots flooded my vision as my body collapsed onto the scalding pavement. I tried to blink away the spots, hoping that between the screeching and the crunch of my face, someone would have heard and was on their way to help me. Hauled to my feet by a bruising grip on my arm, I sagged against my pursuer, unable to hold my own head up. I could feel myself slipping consciousness when I landed on the hard carpeted floor of the van, the sound of the door closing behind me.
“Please,” I croaked, not even recognizing my own voice while the vehicle shook with another passenger. “Let me go.”
A snicker echoed through my mind before the door slammed shut and everything went blank.
When I woke, my head felt like it was splitting apart. Prying my tongue from the roof of my mouth, it was a chore moving any muscle in my face. After a few deep breaths in an unsuccessful attempt to keep from freaking out, I cracked open my eyes and immediately regretted it. Pain shot through my temples and my body weighed a thousand pounds against the itchy fabric beneath me.
My fingers brushed along whatever I was laying on and my body swayed softly, the soft hum of the engine vibrating through me. I was still in the vehicle, which hopefully meant I hadn’t been out long. I took a quick inventory of my body, relieved that my clothing was still in place and my hands were free. I had nearly forgotten about the men until I heard them speaking to each other in hushed voices. I strained to make out what they were saying, thinking my head was more muddled than I had thought, but with the trilling of a tongue, I realized they were speaking Spanish.
My bag! I groped around the floor for the straps, trying to keep the rest of my body still. If somehow my bag made it into the back, I knew that somewhere shoved inside it was the can of pepper spray I had purchased years ago. I turned my head toward the two seats, catching short glimpses of the back of my attacker’s heads as they jostled during a left turn. My heart pounded in my chest— this was my shot. If I got the mace, I could attack when they weren’t expecting it, but the only way that would work is if they still thought I was unconscious.
The tips of my fingers ruffled against the canvas material, and I nearly squealed in excitement. Laboring to keep my breathing even, I dragged the bag closer by my nails, keeping my eyes squinted and locked on the two men up front. With the momentum of a right turn, the bag rolled and bumped against the siding and I froze, blood thrumming in my ears. It was so loud I was worried it would give me away, that somehow, they would hear it. When I peaked, they were facing forward and my hand darted inside my tote until I felt the hard plastic at the bottom. I shoved it into my front pocket and laid back again, running through my plan.
At some point, they would stop and pull me out. All I had to do was wait until they opened the back door, blind them, and then run like hell. If I even could run.
I had to.
Three more turns until we slowed to a stop and both doors popped open. Wincing, I peeled my body from the bed of the van and pulled out the pepper spray, twisting it in my hands until I had to nozzle facing out and my finger on the trigger. Once on my knees, I waited, listening to the faint deep voices and running through the plan.
Time slowed until I heard the voices fade and somehow, I knew it was time. With a jolt, the van swayed, and the back doors opened, a stream of orange light surging inside. I squeezed my eyes shut and clamped down on the spray, trying not to breathe before ramming through whatever body was in front of me and tumbling to the ground. Kicking myself forward, I dropped the can and glanced back to see both masked men, one on the ground grunting and clutching his face and the other pressed face first against the van. Did I somehow spray both of them?
Ignoring the pounding in my temple, I stood on wobbly legs and sprinted while my eyes raked across my surroundings. The concrete expanded for what seemed like a mile, surrounded by thick forest in every direction. To the right, dozens of eighteen-wheelers were parked in a line and to the left was a bloated warehouse. Every overhead door was open with people strewn in between large trucks and vans, backing in and loading freight. I shifted my footing and threw my hands over my head, waving so hard my shoulders ached.
“Help!” I screamed, not slowing for a second. “Help me!”
Several workers jerked in my direction, their faces contorting. I was sure I looked crazed, sprinting through their work site with dirtied clothes and dried blood all down the side of my face.
“Help!” I called out again, closing in on the closest workers who were now facing me and heading in my direction.
“What’s wrong?” A middle-aged man with a beer gut stepped forward with his arms outstretched. Unable to stop, I ran right into him, gasping for breath. “What’s going on?” He asked again.
“I was…” my breath escaped me, and the white dots were clouding my vision again, “I was kidnapped.”
