I couldn’t leave him stuck in the rain when I knew I could help. At least the rain was starting to let up.
My decision made, I forced a weak smile. “I can check. I may have one.”
The man beamed. “You would be a savior if you did.” He stayed where he was, not moving any closer, probably sensing my initial distrust. “The rain seems to be letting off, but by those dark clouds coming in I think we may be in for a heck of a storm.” I shut the driver’s side door and headed to the rear of the car. Opening the trunk, I ran my hand along the carpeted bottom, searching for the release to the spare tire. “I think I may have one, to be honest.” My back was to the stranger for only a few seconds when I felt a rush of chilly air stir the hair at the back of my neck. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, sending my heart slamming against my ribs and painful tendrils of fear burrowing through my stomach.
“Humans are so stupid, so gullible.” His voice was as cold as the wind on my neck.
Before my brain could register his words, an icy, wet hand closed over mine in a painful grip. His breath was sticky against my neck, striking a chord of finality. I didn’t even have a chance to respond.
Using my hand, he swung me around. A cry escaped my throat as pain shot up my arm. I was face to face with him now, and he didn’t seem as helpless as he had before. Actually, he seemed to have grown taller—broader.
“If—if you want money you can take whatever I have.” I wanted to throw the purse at him and take off.
The stranger smiled and then pushed me. Hard. The impact of the rough asphalt knocked the air out of me and jarred my wrist in scorching pain. With my good hand, I grabbed my purse and shoved it at him. “Please,” I begged. “Just take it. I won’t say anything. Just take it. I promise.” My attacker crouched in front of me, lips curved in a sneer as he took my purse. Behind the glasses, his eyes seemed to shift colors. “Your money? I don’t need your money.” He tossed the purse aside.
I stared as little gasps of breath wheezed in and out of my lungs. I couldn’t keep up with the idea that this was happening. If he wasn’t robbing me, then what did he want? My mind shrunk from that line of thinking, instead echoing in terror: No. No. No.
I couldn’t keep my head afloat in the rush of thoughts and images that flooded me. But my body was moving, and I was scooting away from him, banging into the curb. Fear swamped me. I knew I needed to scream. I felt it welling up in my throat. I opened my mouth.
“Don’t scream,” he warned, his voice a biting command.
I felt the muscles in my legs tense. I twisted, pulling my knees up, getting ready to run. I could make it. He wouldn’t expect it. I could make it. Now!
His arms shot out in a blur, grabbing both legs and yanking. My left arm and that side of my face hit the pavement, skin grating against rough cement in blinding pain. My eye started to swell in a matter of seconds and warm blood trickled down my arm. My stomach heaved. I tried to pull my legs out of his grip, kicking when that failed. He grunted, but held on.
“Please! Let me go.” I tried again to kick my legs loose. The road scraped my arms, sending more pain and something stronger.
Anger coursed through me, pushing at the fear, trying to overcome it. The combination sent me into heady action. I kicked and bucked, pushed and shoved, but nothing seemed to budge him. Not even an inch.
“Let go of me!” This time I yelled, the sound torn from my throat until it was raw.
He moved quickly, his face fading in and out like I’d seen Dee’s hand do. And then he was on top of me, his hand covering my mouth. His weight was unbearable even though he’d appeared so small before, so helpless. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. He was crushing me, but the thought of what was to come next nearly destroyed me.
Someone had to have heard me. It was my only hope.
He lowered his head, sniffing my hair. A shudder of revulsion rolled through me. He hissed. “I was right. You have their trace.” He moved his hand from my mouth and gripped my shoulders. “Where are they?”
“I…I don’t understand,” I choked out.
“Of course you don‘t.” His face contorted with disgust. “You’re nothing but a stupid, walking mammal. Worthless.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want to see his face. I wanted to go home. Please…
“Look at me!” When I didn’t he shook me again. My head cracked against the ground. The fresh new pain startled me and my one good eye opened against my will. He grabbed my chin with his icy hand. My gaze flickered across his face and finally settled on his eyes. They were vast and empty. I’d never seen anything like it.
And in those eyes I saw something worse. Worse than being robbed, worse than being degraded and abused. I saw death in them—my death—without an ounce of remorse.
“Tell me where they are.” Each word was bitten out.
His voice sounded muffled, as though underwater, or maybe that was me. Maybe I was drowning.
“Fine,” he spat. “Maybe you need a little encouragement.”
Within a second, his hands wrapped around my throat and he squeezed. Before I had a chance, the last breath that I’d taken for granted was cut off. Panic clawed through my chest as I tried prying his fingers off my neck, my legs kicking out in a vain attempt at freedom. His grip dug into my fragile windpipe.
“Are you ready to tell me?” he challenged. “No?”
I didn’t know what he was talking about. My wrist was no longer throbbing; the torn flesh of my arms and face no longer seemed to sting with such fierceness as before, because new pains were replacing the old. There was no air, no more air. My heart pounded in my chest, demanding oxygen. The pressure in my head threatened to explode. My legs were going numb. Tiny lights danced through my vision.