Chapter 2-2. Andrea
The following is an unedited sample of my upcoming novel Girl of Lies, the first novel in the Rachel’s Peril Trilogy. For more information about the book and more chapters, please check out the Thompson Sisters page!
Chapter 2. Amber Alert
Part 2. Andrea
“Who are you? Where are you taking me?”
“Shut up,” said the driver. “I told you to keep your mouth shut.” Dan, he’d said. Whatever his real name was.
The clock on the dashboard said 4:52 pm. It had been 32 minutes since they’d picked her up. Kidnapped her. Dan, the muscular blonde driver, had passed an automatic pistol to Hairy Chest moments after they left the airport. And then he held another pistol up in his right hand.
“Don’t try anything funny. I don’t much care whether you survive this or not.”
The words sent chills down her spine, but not as much as moments later when Hairy Chest said, “Give me your purse. And your passport.”
She had no choice. What was this? Who were these people? Terror twisted her guts when she passed the purse, with all of her identification and passport, over to the man in the front passenger seat. Last year she’d done a report on sex-trafficking for school. And too often it happened like this. Passports and documents seized, young women carried off from airports.
The back door latch didn’t work, she’d tried that at the airport. Surreptitiously, she’d tried the power windows. They didn’t work either. Child-safety locks? She didn’t know. But it trapped her in the spacious, leather back seat, with two armed men in the front seat, in a car moving at high speed down the highway.
She swallowed, keeping her fear in check. She needed to stay alert. Pay attention to her surroundings. She’d been watching the road, a circuitous route which had taken them around Baltimore and now onto Interstate 70 West. She needed details. If she managed to get to a phone, send a text message, anything. She watched the road closely.
A sign. Exit 80, for Sykesville Road in Clarkesville, Maryland.
4:56 pm. She was getting further by the minute from the airport, further from her family, further from safety.
She took a deep breath. Maybe she could try negotiation. She leaned forward in her seat slightly, then said. “My father is wealthy. He’ll pay a big ransom.”
The driver rolled his head to the left for just a second, his jaw tightening. She didn’t anticipate the sudden violence, as he lashed out with his right fist. Her vision went white as his fist connected and she cried out, her mouth flooding with blood. She’d bit her tongue, hard.
Hairy Chest shook his head and chuckled. He glanced over his shoulder at her, then said, “Don’t mess her face up too much. I want to break her in before we get rid of her.”
Andrea’s entire body shuddered in fear at his words. She’d taken self-defense courses. She knew how to fight. But she also knew there were two of them. And they had guns.
“Yeah, well right now, every second fucking counts,” the driver said. “We need to get off the road.”
“Twenty minutes. No way they’ll have an alert out that fast, but we can’t kid around. Keep her fucking quiet back there.”
She sniffled, then ground her teeth. She wasn’t giving up. No matter what. Hairy Chest met her eyes, then said in a conversational tone, “I fuck you so hard you scream.”
The words froze her in place, all panic and fear gone. She was ice cold. And if she’d held a knife in her hand at that moment, she wouldn’t have hesitated to slide it right between his ribs.
As it was, she needed to think, and quickly.
There was nothing in the backseat which could be used as a weapon. Normally she carried a can of mace, but she couldn’t take that on an airplane. Fuckers. Heavy floor mats lined the backseat floor. They wouldn’t make much of a weapon, though she might be able to use one to blind the driver for a moment. And cause the car to crash. At the moment the speedometer rested at 74 miles per hour. She might be killed if they crashed, but she thought her odds would be better in a high speed collision than whatever else these two had in mind.
Her eyes moved back to Hairy Chest, still watching her, and she intentionally breathed in deeply and made her lower lip tremble. “I’ll cooperate. Please don’t hurt me.”
She said it in as meek a voice as she could muster. But she was going to fucking hurt him if she got the chance.
And that’s when she saw it. The driver braked a little, as a state patrolman pulled out onto the highway three lanes over.
Without thought or preparation or hesitation, she reached down with her left hand and grabbed the floor mat.
Hairy Chest shouted. “What the —”
He was too late. The floor mat swung wide and caught the driver right in the face. The car lurched to the left, away from the police car, and skidded onto the median. The ride suddenly went rough as the car ran partly onto the gravel and grass, bumping this way and that, then hitting a pothole with a wrenching thud that jarred her brain in her skull.
“Fucking bitch!” shouted the driver as he fought to get the vehicle back under control.
She reached both hands forward and grabbed Hairy Chest from behind, digging her nails into his face. He let out a scream and forced his way out of her grip, then spun around and lunged blindly, just missing her with his fist as she scrunched back as far in the seat as she could get.
That got the response she wanted. The squeal of a siren, then a flash of blue light, as the cops responded to the highly visible fight inside the Lincoln.
“Motherfucker!” shouted the driver. Hairy Chest reached for his gun, and she grabbed at his arm, but screamed as the driver punched her in the head. Once. Twice. Her vision narrowed to black and she lost her grip on Hairy Chest’s arm. The driver accelerated, and Hairy Chest moved in nightmare slow motion as he raised his pistol. She dived down behind the seat as far as she could go, and then heard an explosion of sound.
Hairy Chest leaned out the window and fired his pistol at the pursuing police car.