Kidnapped [Part 4]

There was no way out of this moving death trap. His eyes in the rearview mirror grinned, They resembled those of a hunter observing the final struggle of a trapped fish. I realized with dismay that, like that fish, I was being taken further and further away from the safety of civilization.

The car turning off the freeway and towards a small town was the net being lifted from the water.

Each house sprinting past my eyes is a missed opportunity to escape. Their silent soulless eyes glimpse me through the tinted glass that matches their own but they remain motionless. Not a single one reaches out towards me.

It is now that I, a perhaps Louisa too, realize how isolated we are. The inside of this car is its own little world, completely separate from everything outside. The people in their homes are safe in a world I no longer belong to.

The only solution now is to escape this confinement. How to succeed is another question entirely; one I hardly dare to ask but must discover the answer to.

After all, my job this time is to somehow get these three caught by the police in order to prevent future kidnappings. Failure would mean a second and permanent death for me.

Her life and mine are tied by an unbreakable thread as her memories and thoughts become intertwined with my own. She controls me as much as I do her.

It is her mind that recalls the town flitting silently past the windows but it is mine that searches for possible escape routes in the shadowy alleyways between Victorian-style homes and stores. She shudders at the face in the rearview mirror; I search it for weaknesses.

The eyes are cold and hardened. Bags line his lower lid as though he hasn’t slept in several days. I search through her memories for an answer and find that she never saw him sleep. The other two napped alternatively but he remained wide awake through the hours of torture.

If he hadn’t slept, surely he would be weaker. Perhaps if we arrived at the house before the others I could fight him long enough to escape and find help.

I turn around to check the distance between this car and the other two only to find that they’ve disappeared from sight. For a fleeting moment my heart feels light with hope that perhaps they took a wrong turn or merely decided to leave. Maybe I’d be able to escape without having to fight or evade the other two. Maybe I’d find safety before they arrived.

The sensation of hope quickly deflates as I am reminded of the dull pain throbbing at my broken ankle. There’s no way I could fight with such an injury.

No, I need another plan.

Since I can’t find help, I must make help come to me.

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