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“Perhaps you should be asleep for the first part of our journey,” Wilcox broke into my somewhat fevered thoughts.
I realized my mistake at once. I’d been spending so much time talking to Wilcox, I hadn’t paid attention to the Steroid Sidekicks. One was walking toward me, carrying a loaded syringe.
I stared at him coming toward me and I felt the chill of fear.
This was just like in those movies where they tranquilized the heroine and she woke up lying on silk pillows, wearing anI Dream of Jeannieoutfit and finding herself a member of a harem where all the other girls hated her.
I didn’t want to be a member of Terry Wilcox’s harem, even if I was the only one.
My mind filled with colliding thoughts and I realized I had two choices, let him drug me and sleep through my (hopeful) rescue, or, well, I didn’t know what my second choice was, considering my extremities were tied together.
I was fond of naps, but only those I took myself or fell into naturally, not those induced by overdeveloped henchmen.
I watched him come at me and did the only thing I could do, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
I rolled to the floor, rolled into him and took him off his feet. He fell over and hit the deck with a grunt and an oath.
I kept rolling to get away from him and struggling to get out of my bounds.
This surprisingly worked (almost). My hands must not have been tied very well because they started to come lose.
Once I dropped Bad Guy Number One, Bad Guy Number Two came at me. I rolled to my back, lifted my legs, and as Tex and The Kevster suggested, I aimed right between his.
I missed, but nailed him in the thigh with a good deal of force and some seriously pissed-off attitude. He staggered back and went down on a knee.
I kept struggling to get my hands free, reared up with a crunch of the abs that would do any personal trainer proud and found my feet. With my momentum and weight, feet and arms still bound, I toppled over and hit him, head to the chest, and we both went down rolling and struggling, him trying to get a hold of me and me squirming like crazy.
I was beginning to get ticked.
Where.
The hell.
Was Lee?
Finally, I freed one hand from the bounds, shook the other one free of the rope and started fighting in earnest.
This didn’t last long. Even though I had the use of my hands, he was stronger and he subdued me humiliatingly quickly. He yanked me, still squirming, to my feet and whipped me around so my back was to his front and his hands held my wrists behind me.
“Give her the shot. Now,” Wilcox ordered.
He hadn’t even bothered coming out of his chair, the jerk. He was totally calm, eerily calm. Like he knew he was going to get away with this.
Bad Guy Number One came at me again with the syringe.
I felt a moment of total fear, no chill this time. This was so much fear, I was certain I’d pee my pants.
Instead, I screamed.
It was loud, it was shrill, and even though I was the one screaming, it even freaked me out.
When I quit screaming, I started struggling, harder this time, desperate.
But it was no use.
Holy crap.
I was going on vacation with Creepy Grandpa Munster.
