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Not from inside her bag, but from somewhere nearby. Really? She’d dropped it and hadn’t heard it land? Maybe while getting her keys out of her bag. Disgusted with herself, she kept pressing the button on her watch, the reactive beep getting stronger as she searched the concrete.
And there it was.
On the ground right next to a narrow spot between two buildings.
How had that happened?
She bent down to pick it up, and just as she did, she sensed something—a movement in the corner of her eye and the rustle of leaves. “Wha—?”
He lunged.
From the narrow space between the two buildings a dark figure leapt. She started to scream, but the air was cut from her lungs.
One strong arm held her tight, his gloved hand reaching up to cover her mouth. With his free hand he jabbed something cold and hard against her neck. Panicked, she tried to scream, to react, to kick and flail. Instead she felt fifty thousand volts scream through her body! Shock waves jolted across her skin and down her limbs. Shuddering and convulsing, she had no control, but somehow he—her attacker—slapped duct tape over her mouth and zip-tied her wrists and ankles despite her flailing and body parts that were out of her control.
No, no, no!
Inside she was screaming, but heard only gurgled, muffled noises coming from her throat as he dragged her along the dirt path between the two buildings to a small, pockmarked parking area. She lost a shoe, felt broken asphalt scrape against her heel.
Fight, Sam, fight! Don’t let him do this to you . . . don’t! Fight back. He’s going tokillyou! Fight, damn it!
But she couldn’t. Despite the warnings in her head, her body refused to comply. He lifted her from the ground and stuffed her into the backseat in a matter of seconds.
“Hey!” she heard someone yell as if from under water.A man,she thought. Then quick hard footsteps. Someone running!
Oh, please! Help!
Too late!
He slammed the back door shut, climbed behind the wheel, and gunned it as he pulled the driver’s door shut.
No! God, no! Help me. Someone help me!
Her mind was jangled, her heart racing, her thoughts a jumble, but she knew she was in trouble. Big trouble.
“Hey! Hey!” A sharp male voice frantic but farther away.
She tried to kick at the door, but her feet wouldn’t work.
“What do you think—”
He hit the gas.
Thud!
The car bounced as if he’d driven over a berm or rock or something hard.
She was thrown against the back cushions.
She tried to yell, but her words were garbled and muted behind the tape.
Get up! Kick! Scream! Fight back!
But her body was useless, her brains half scrambled. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t make her body move, but one thing was certain, she thought as she saw the streetlights through the car’s windows as he drove through the city: Father John, that madman who had nearly killed her years before, was finally going to finish the job.
She blinked.
Tried to think.
