The 18th Abduction Page 15

  Susan fell asleep, and when she woke up, she was in a strange room. It took forever to stretch out her hand, to shift her eyes. It was as if she were swimming underwater.

  She noticed that the bed was so soft, it seemed to embrace her. But this room was a dark and windowless cell. Her things were gone, her clothes, her phone. She was a prisoner. She was dressed in a transparent nightgown, and from the soreness between her legs, she realized she had been used for sex.

  That first night in captivity, Susan crawled to the foot of the bed, where she could reach the doorknob, but the door was locked. She started to scream.

  Tony opened the door, pushed her back onto the bed, and told her that she belonged to him now. And he laid down the rules—all of them cruel, arbitrary, cast in stone—with one promise. Follow the rules and she’d be fine. If not, they would kill her. And not quickly.

  He slapped, pinched, and punched her to make his point, and then he took her with force. When he was done, he slapped her bottom, kissed her forehead, and said, “Good night, sweetheart. See you in the morning.”

  He left, locking the door behind him.

  Susan looked at her friend now. “Adele.”

  Adele looked at her, reflecting her fear.

  “I’m sorry. So sorry that you’re here. And sorry for me.”

  Chapter 69

  Susan sat with Adele in front of the makeup mirror, thinking back on all that had happened to them, knowing in her heart that Carly had been completely taken in by Tony.

  The morning after their abduction, when they were dragged from their beds and brought to the lounge, Carly went wild and fought for her life. She called Tony vile names, threw things at him, and ran to the door. Anyone could see that her attempt to escape was not only hopeless but infuriating the men.

  Tony grabbed Carly by the shoulder and punched her in the belly. She crumpled and he dropped her. She gagged and threw up on the rug.

  Susan tried to help her, but Tony flung her against the wall. Her head hit the plaster, and she slid down to the floor. She watched as Tony began choking Carly with his large hands, letting her breathe, then choking her again. He let up and Carly gasped and breathed out a long, terrible wheeze.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, looking at Susan.

  Tony pulled Carly to her feet, dragged her up over his shoulder, and carried her out of the apartment.

  Days later Tony showed them the pictures of Carly’s lifeless body, pale and stiff, wearing one of his shirts. She looked like a wax exhibit in a house of horrors.

  Tony had meant for Susan and Adele to be so terrified, they’d obey and wouldn’t try to escape. But they knew more now than they had known during those first days.

  Susan had played the piano for the beasts several times after the evening meal, and the music relaxed them. It gave her the idea for a fantastic plan. When the time was right, she and Adele would escape.

  Sometime soon, maybe tonight while she was playing, Adele would pour the liquor and keep the glasses full. When the beasts were drowsy on food and alcohol, Adele could smuggle the fireplace pokers into the bedrooms and hide them under the mattresses while Susan played on.

  Now, in the dressing room, getting ready for breakfast, Susan brushed color onto Adele’s cheeks and painted her mouth with lipstick.

  Then she said, “Tell me, Adele. Tell me our plan.”

  Adele said, “We’ll get them drunk. When they’re asleep in our beds, we will use the pokers to bash in their heads.”

  Susan kissed her friend’s cheek.

  “You got it.”

  Susan had never even killed a mouse before, but she could picture raising the poker high and bringing it down on Tony’s head.

  Could Adele do the same with Marko? She heard footsteps coming toward the dressing room.

  The door opened.

  Marko said, “Breakfast is served in the lounge, ladies. Now.”

  Susan said, “Give us a minute, would you, Marko? We’re not quite ready.”

  “I said now. Tony is in the house and he wants you. Comb your hair, Adele. Move.”

  The door closed, and Susan said, “We’ll get out. We’ll find a way.”

  Adele was shivering, and Susan knew that she was remembering the assault last night in the lounge in front of everyone, the beating, the rape by one, two, and then a third man.

  Adele said, “Susan, the only way out is to kill them or kill myself.

  “Honest to God. I don’t care which.”

  Chapter 70

  Marko herded Susan and Adele over to the gold tufted silk sofa in the lounge and told them to sit.

  The man called Junior entered the room with a tray of food and drink: a bottle of good wine, a basket of bread, and two plates of chicken salad. He set up the meal on the coffee table and poured the wine.

  Adele wasn’t hungry. And this wasn’t breakfast. She was no longer sure what time of day it was. Could be one of their tricks. Or it could be that she had been drugged again and had lost track of time.

  She sensed a changed mood in the room that she couldn’t quite identify. On the surface today was like the days before. The day shift of three nameless men guarded the front door and served the food. Marko supervised.

  But today the men seemed expectant.

  Marko stood in front of the two women and said, “Eat. It’s good.”

  Adele picked up her fork, stabbed some lettuce. Marko turned and Adele put the fork down. She heard heavy footsteps coming down a long hallway to the lounge.

  Tony.

  He filled the doorway. Puffed on his cigar. Smiled like a game show host.

  “Good day, ladies. Everyone sleep okay?”

  Adele and Susan murmured in unison, “Yes, Tony.”

  Adele remembered Tony raping her last night, pulling her hair, forcing her head back with one hand and squeezing her throat with the other.

  When she’d flailed, he’d been amused at her fight and gasps for air, and before she could pass out, he’d let her go.

  He had joked, “Was it good for you?”

  Then he’d stood up, walked to the bathroom, and flushed the condom down the toilet. He’d stepped into his shorts and opened the door for Marko, slapped his comrade on the back. Just before Marko had crossed the threshold, Adele had heard the door open to Susan’s room and Tony’s voice booming, “What’s new, pussycat?”

  Adele shot a glance at the fireplace pokers only thirty feet away. There were too many men to take a chance now but maybe later.

  Tony dragged over an armless chair and straddled it, facing the two women over the coffee table.

  He said, “I have a surprise for one of you.” And then he laughed. “You both look terrified. Stop that. I’m just taking one of you out for a change of scene, maybe ice cream. And not what you call it? Funny business. I want you to have a day off.”

  Susan grabbed Adele’s hand, and Tony held up a quarter for them to see.

  Tony said, “Susan, the head or the tail.”

  “Heads.”

  The coin jumped into the air, spun, and tumbled until Tony caught it and slapped it on the back of his hand.

  “Oh. Sorry, Susan. It’s the tail. But you’ll get your turn. Adele, there are some new clothes in your room. Get dressed,” he said. “Hurry, Little A. Before it gets dark.”

  Chapter 71

  Adele sat beside Tony in the front seat of the Jaguar as he sped along a two-lane highway, going where, she did not know.

  Her hands were tied uncomfortably behind her. Her new jeans were tight and binding, and the waistband painfully pressed on the bruises at her hips and stomach. Over the jeans she wore a white sweatshirt with the logo of Pacific View Prep.

  Adele’s arms were wrenched up behind her, and when Tony had fastened her shoulder belt, she’d pleaded with him to release the buckle.

  “Tony, please no. It hurts too badly.”

  “Of course, Adele. I care about you. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do, Tony.�
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  He’d taken off the shoulder belt.

  A blessing, but Adele was sure that the “change of scene” story was a hoax. She’d played along, even asking Tony if she could call her parents and let them know that she was okay.

  Tony had said to her, “You’re a funny girl, Adele. But seriously, if you ask for help or try to get away, I will have to kill you, which will really pain me.”

  He’d put his hand over his heart and looked at her with a fake sad expression.

  Then he’d said, “Also, I will have to call Marko and he will put Susan down like a dog. I know where your parents live, Little A, and I have the names of all of your friends. So please, darling, just behave. Say ‘I understand, Tony.’”

  Adele had said it.

  “Say ‘I belong to you, Tony.’”

  She’d choked that out, too. It was important that he trust her. “I’m going to be the perfect date. I promise.”

  They’d been driving for about a half hour, heading toward the setting sun. During that time Tony had been on the phone and he’d listened to music over the radio, but he hadn’t spoken to her again.

  Adele thought that he was distancing himself from her, and that scared her. As she’d told Susan, he would kill them both no matter what they did. Being obsequious and cooperative had bought them time. But Tony would never leave witnesses to what he’d done to them and to Carly.

  Adele was alert for opportunities, hoping Tony underestimated her. If he stopped for gas, she’d beg an attendant to call the police, or at least go to the ladies’ room and leave a message on the mirror in soap. If she managed to get her hands free, she could reach over and jerk the steering wheel and run the car into a tree.

  She might die, but she might kill Tony, too.

  Tony gripped the steering wheel with both hands and said, “We’ll be there soon, Adele darling. Don’t worry. You are going to have a good time, no kidding.”

  “I’m glad. Thanks, Tony.”

  She smiled like she was his girlfriend.

  “I’m getting a little bit hungry, though,” she said. “And I’d like to use a restroom.”

  “Sure,” he said. “Amenities are coming up in a few miles.”

  The roadway cut through woods and was bounded by scrub and trees on both sides. The waning sun painted the sky pink and cast long shadows on the road. Adele flexed her fingers to keep the blood moving, wriggled them to see if she could loosen the wire around her wrists. She pictured pulling in to a diner or even a convenience store.

  He would untie her with a promise to be good.

  And when she got half a chance, she would whisper to the nearest person, “Help. My name is Adele Saran and I’ve been abducted. Call the police.”

  Tony was speaking to her.

  “I have to see a man about a horse,” he said, grinning. “That’s the expression, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. So funny,” Adele said.

  Tony slowed and pulled the car off the road onto a gravelly verge, where he parked and turned on the emergency lights.

  “Be right back,” he said.

  He opened his door and stepped out, walked to the front of the car and ten paces into the forest, and faced a tree.

  This was it.

  There were no cars, no people, and losing herself in the thick woodland was her best and maybe only chance to escape. Adele twisted in her seat, turning to face the steering wheel. While watching Tony, she felt around behind her until the door handle was in her hands.

  She yanked up, and thank you, God, the door opened. Tony was still using the tree as a toilet as Adele swung her legs out of the car. She leaned against it to get her balance. Then, with the Jaguar between herself and Tony, blocking his view of her, she hunched over and ran for her life.

  Tony shouted after her, “Run, Little A! Let me see you run.”

  Chapter 72

  Tony wanted her to escape? That’s what he wanted?

  Well, he was going to get what he asked for.

  Adele’s arms were twisted up behind her back, the wind whipping her hair across her face as she crossed both lanes without incident. When she reached the far side of the paved road, she had to stop to see how she would get over the gully between the pavement and the woods beyond it.

  With her arms pulled up tight behind her, she didn’t have enough balance to jump across, and she was determined not to fall. If she did, Tony would seize her, and after humiliating her, he’d kill her.

  She quickly sized up the width and depth of the ditch, looking for footholds, seeing where she would climb down, wade across, make it up the other side.

  Watching her feet, she stepped carefully down into the ditch, then climbed up the other side, falling only once. She managed the crossing only to meet a wall of brambles between herself and the woods. The sticker bushes were everywhere, lining the woodland, and Adele did what she had to do. She leaned in, the fragile skin of her face taking the brunt of the thorns. And then she was through the barricade. She exhaled as she blended into the relative darkness of the forest.

  And then, just when she had gotten free of the brambles, Tony called out to her.

  “Adele. Adelll-ah, darling. You could get lost out here. You could get hurt.”

  The shaded woodland gave her a big advantage.

  She could see where she was going, and the shadows would give her cover. Adele turned her head to see where Tony was and glimpsed his silhouette beside his car—and he saw her. But he wasn’t coming after her.

  He called out, “Wait there, Adele. I’ll bring you back to the car.”

  Like hell he would.

  She pushed on into the woodland, gingerly at first; but gaining balance and confidence, she steadily climbed the gently wooded slope. When the ground flattened, she ran. A hundred yards in, she stumbled over a root and pitched forward to the ground. She ignored the scrapes and bruises and used her strong core muscles to roll up into a sitting position, glad for the tens of thousands of crunches she’d done in the school gym. And thank God for the StairMaster, too; somehow she got to her feet on the incline.

  Up ahead was a large tree and Adele got behind it. Tony couldn’t see her as she pressed her back against the trunk, inching down until she was sitting on the leaf litter beneath the tree. Her arms hurt with unrelenting pain, but she twisted and stretched, worked her slim hips through the circle of her arms until her bound hands were in front of her.

  She noticed now that the white sweatshirt stood out like neon, looking even brighter as the sun left the sky. Adele pulled the fabric over her head and bunched it around her wrists. Then she pushed up and forward, exhilarated and at the same time certain that if Tony caught her, he would wrap his hands around her throat. He would squeeze and release her airway as he did during sex, the sick bastard, and this time he wouldn’t let go.

  Adele was rested now.

  She was moving swiftly and she wasn’t alone as she ran. She gave herself affirmations, saying out loud, “Good girl. Keep going.” As she tripped over logs and recovered from stumbles, she felt Susan, her parents, and even Carly flanking her path, encouraging her to run.

  As she moved farther from Tony and toward who knew what, she heard the snapping of twigs.

  There was a flashlight beam up ahead, swinging from left to right, and it stopped moving when it caught her square on. Adele shielded her eyes and saw another beam coming from her right and another farther up the hill.

  Oh, my God. It’s a search party.

  They were looking for her.

  “Help,” she called out. “I’m over here. Please help me.”

  Chapter 73

  Someone called to Adele from the middle distance.

  “Hey, chickie. Don’t stop now.”

  That was Marko’s voice. Marko. What the hell was going on?

  “Marko?”

  “Run, Adele.”

  That was Tony’s voice, and she could see him, silhouetted by his car’s headlights, coming toward her. She saw other flashlights
in the woods, flickering through the branches, seeking her out, cornering her.

  She realized with a shock that she’d made an idiotic mistake. This was no rescue. These were Tony’s men. And this was one of their sick games.

  Tony shouted playfully, “You should run, sweetheart.”

  Adele’s guess was that this was probably some version of hide-and-seek with a death penalty for getting caught.

  She ran from the lights and the voices, and they followed her. “Adellllllllle. Are you afraid of us?”

  Without stopping, Adele counted seven lights in the woods. She picked the darkest point between the lights and loped over broken ground, leapt downed branches and the scattered bones of a dead animal, and negotiated the changing grade of the land.

  She accepted the numbness of her hands and arms as a handicap and focused on keeping her footing as she sprinted through the woods, frantic for the sight of a home or traffic on a road.

  Adele was putting distance between herself and the men when she felt a sharp, glancing pain in her right shoulder.

  A man called out, “Good one, Junior.”

  A second voice cheered her on. “Run, Bambi. There’s a road not far. You can make it. We love you, Della.”

  Something shiny sliced through the air, past her face, and struck a tree, sinking an inch into the trunk. She paused a moment to see what the object was: a pointed, star-shaped piece of metal about five inches across. One like that was in the back of her shoulder, and she couldn’t reach it with her tied-up hands.

  Another of the things whizzed past her face, missing her by what seemed like only a fraction of an inch.

  “Bad throw,” said a voice closer than before. “You missed again.”

  “She’s fast. Faster than the other one.”

  One of the men laughed. “Or maybe you just suck.”

  The flashlight beams and snapping of twigs were coming too close. She told herself, Keep going, run faster, and although her muscles were killing her, Adele ran up the grade to a clearing in the trees carpeted with moss and leaves. She had to stop, put her hands on her knees, catch her breath. That’s when she saw it below the incline, downhill and only about a half mile from where she stood.