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We’re moving backwards again so I can’t see where Paul is hauling me to. I look in every direction, desperate to spot a commuter, a straggler who may have caught a glimpse of what’s happening and is processing how they can help. But to my dismay it’s just the two of us.
I wish I could put up a better fight and not be this clichéd weak woman overpowered by the brute force of a man, but I’m not. The muscular arms I gawped at the day we first met are now my enemy. And the pressure he’s putting on my windpipe is so hard, I think I might pass out. The last thing I want is to make this easier for him. I gasp and grunt as I desperately try and get breath in my lungs and remain conscious.
We stop again, somewhere behind the train station and hidden by what I think is a bike rack. But it’s so dark it’s hard to tell. I hear two car engines starting up and tyres moving on gravel as they pull away. Paul takes something from his pocket and pulls my wrists together behind me. It feels like a plastic tie and it digs into my flesh the tighter he pulls. Then we start to cross the now-emptycar park that’s lit by one solitary, flickering lamp. Finally, when we reach the far side, he spins me around so we are face-to-face. He holds the tip of a knife to the left side of my throat. My survival instinct kicks in and I try to move my head away from it but it’s futile. His weapon glints in the lamp’s glow and the serrated edge tells me it’s made for hunting. I wonder why he chose this, of all weapons, and then I understand. I have been hunted down. I’m like the women he married. I’m prey.
I stare into Paul’s eyes. I remember them as blue, but at this moment they are as dark as the night and unreadable.
‘Do anything stupid and this will go straight through your jugular,’ he says calmly. ‘You’ll bleed out in less than a minute.’
‘What do you want from me?’ I gasp. I can barely hear my own voice. Even though he doesn’t respond, I know he’s listening. And then we are moving again. Now he’s pushing me forward, frogmarching me out of the car park and towards a country lane. The solid ground becomes a field. It’s getting harder and harder to see in front of me as there are no more lights and the moon is offering only a little help. Think.Think. I strain wildly but my hands are tied behind me. So the best I can do with my limited options is to deliberately stumble and collide with a fence post. My breasts bear the brunt of it and have never felt pain quite like it. But I know that if I have any chance of surviving this, it’s a necessary agony.
‘Where are we going?’ I ask as he yanks me up.
‘I have something very special planned for you,’ Paul replies.
My leg suddenly starts to pulse and I realise it’s my temporary new phone. I want to reach for it, to slide the answer button so that even if I can’t speak to the caller, they can hear I’m in trouble. But Paul has heard it too. He reaches into my pocket, grabs it, and pulls it out before hurling it into a thicket ahead. Seconds later we pass it, the partially covered illuminated screen a marker to my green mile.
I stumble on the uneven ground, this time accidentally, and when I begin to fall, he catches me and yanks me up again, but with such force that my upper back makes a cracking sound and I whimper. My reward is a punch to the back of the neck, and this time when I topple forward, he doesn’t try and stop me. I land hard on my cheekbone and ear. Paul drags me to my feet again and he continues forcing me to walk. My face burns and I try to wipe away the grit and dirt by rubbing it against my shoulder. It becomes damp and I realise I’m bleeding.
There’s a sudden, small bright light, and in my disorientated state, I think someone is ahead of us. Then I realise no, it’s Paul’s phone. There’s a map on the screen.
My emotions are shooting all over the place like stray fireworks. I can’t decide if the sudden swell of anger rising inside me is because I think I’m about to die, or because Paul has total control over me. ‘You’re a fucking coward!’ I cry, my boldness and fury taking us both a little by surprise. ‘You pick on the weak and the vulnerable. You wouldn’t dare treat a man like this.’
‘Because men don’t lie like women do,’ he replies.
‘Of course they do,’ I say. ‘You’re worse than all of them.’
‘My lies reach the truth. People like you lie to exploit.’
‘And so do you! You and I, we are the same. Remember? You told me that. I didn’t want to believe it, but you were right. We are not good people.’
I feel a second punch to my neck. And now my brain is spinning like a thousand hangovers all at once. I want to pass out but I manage to stay conscious. He laughs when I retch. And then it’s his turn to stumble, and to my surprise, his grip on my arm slackens.
This is my opportunity. I start to run. Only I haven’t taken into account just how unstable I am and I manage a handful of steps before I topple over. Once again, I cower as Paul yanks me up but this time, there’s no punishment. I think he recognises my bodyis failing me and that he no longer needs strength to make me do what he wants. And as we continue our journey to wherever he’s taking me, I know that I don’t have long to find a way out of this. But try as I might, I’m at a loss to think how. I’m utterly helpless.
‘Why did you have to kill them?’ I ask. ‘Couldn’t you have just taken their money and disappeared?’
‘You still don’t get it, do you, Rachel? This has never been about the money. This is about the truth.’
‘Which is what?’
His laugh is gruff and humourless. ‘I don’t need to explain myself to you.’
‘Your face is everywhere,’ I continue. ‘If I die, they’ll know you’re to blame and they’ll double their efforts to track you down. But if you just leave me here and disappear, you might never be found.’
‘It’s already over for me. You saw to that when you told them to test Fran Brown’s blood. Once they start digging up my girls, they’ll find the same drugs in them all and they’ll take them away from me. They’ll get me in the end, but not until I’ve finished with you.’
The ground beneath us begins to firm and now we are stumbling along a path next to a road that gradually rises to a hump. I think it’s a bridge, partially illuminated by a street lamp. A few short moments later, Paul stops me.
‘What now?’ I ask weakly. ‘Drug me and find some stairs to shove me down? That’s how you operate, isn’t it?’
His arm rises too swiftly for me to turn my head and protect myself. His fist collides with my nose with a sickening crack. The pain is red hot and I drop to my knees, wanting desperately to cup it with my hands but they’re still tied behind me.
‘Rachel,’ he sighs. ‘Riling or stalling me won’t work. You are where you were always meant to be.’
He raises his foot to push me backwards and my head hits the pavement. My ears ring like church bells and as he mounts me, he’s talking but it’s like my head is underwater. He’s so muffled, I can’t understand him. Now he’s prising my lips apart before he shoves his fingers into my mouth and moves them around. I clamp my mouth shut, and with what little strength I have left, bite hard into his finger. ‘Fuck,’ he yells and punches me in the kidney with his other fist so my jaw instantly slackens. I can’t close my mouth because I can’t breathe through my broken bloodied nose. Then he’s gripping the hinge of my jaw with one hand, locking it open, and the fingers of his other hand are back inside me and it’s then I realise what he is about to do. He is trying to get a grip of my tongue.
He wants to slice it out with his knife.
