It was late, too late to be out in the cold. I shoved my freezing hands deep into my jacket pockets and picked up the pace. I had spent all evening studying in the library, and now I was in danger of being locked out of the dorm because I'd lost track of time. The campus was dark and deserted. There were hardly any lights on save the streetlights that cast pools of comforting security here and there. The snow crunched under my boots. The sound seemed deafening in the silence.
I turned the corner at the end of the block and put my head down as the wind gusted at me. Bits of ice and snow stung my face. I walked faster, almost trotting now, eager to get back to my warm little room. They would be locking the dorms in exactly eleven minutes, and there was no damned way I was spending the night in the freezing cold.
I thought I heard something behind me: a footstep, or maybe the sound of a long coat snapping in the stiff breeze. I paused, glanced over my shoulder. Nothing but a deserted sidewalk. Shaking my head, trying to convince myself I was being paranoid and skittish, I picked up the pace yet again. Now I
was
trotting, and I didn't care. I didn't want to be out alone this late anymore. At least a brief run would help me warm up.
Out of nowhere, a hard hand clamped down on my upper arm, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. A bolt of fear shot through me. I spun around awkwardly, hampered by whoever was grabbing me. Before I could see who it was, though, I was jerked back against them, and a second hand covered my mouth. They were wearing leather gloves, whoever they were. The cold leather was smashed so hard against my lips that I tasted blood.
A voice near my ear said quietly, "We're going to go very quietly into the woods. If you scream or try to run away, I have a gun and I will shoot you. Nod if you understand."
I gave a quick nod, my mind racing almost as fast as my heart. Though the hands on me and the body behind me were solid enough, I was having trouble accepting the fact that this was happening. Here on campus, a block from the library and a block from my dorm, some stranger was trying to abduct me and my brain couldn't quite wrap itself around that fact.
Do something!
I screamed silently to myself, but nothing happened. The man behind me gave me a little shove, and I stumbled on numb legs off the sidewalk, through the snowy grass to the trees beyond.
I hadn't thought the trees would be so thick, but only a few feet in I lost sight of the sidewalk and it was as though we were in a separate world. Just him and me, and all around us nothing but deadly quiet night. It had begun to snow again, softly and lightly. I continued on, deeper into the woods. Woods surrounded the entire campus. It was, ironically, one of the reasons I had chosen to come here. It looked unspoiled, as though the city were thousands of miles away instead of one or two. Now that sense of isolation worked against me.
We had gone perhaps a quarter of a mile into the woods when he finally stopped me. "Put your hands behind your back."
I stood there trembling, not wanting to obey but not knowing what else to do. If I ran he might shoot me. I didn't know if his talk of a gun was a bluff, and I didn't really want to find out. Still, I couldn't seem to make my hands go behind my back. I felt hot tears fill my eyes and cursed softly, my quiet words turning to steam before my eyes.
A sharp pain exploded through my head as he hit me hard from behind. I dropped to my knees, the world reeling dizzily. I thought then that he must have a gun; he couldn't have hit me so hard with just his fist. I put one hand to my head to feel for blood, and he instantly seized it. He grabbed the other arm, wrenched it painfully behind my back, and began to tie my wrists together with a rough length of cord. He tied them so tightly that it hurt, and my fingertips began to tingle.
At least
, I thought bitterly,
they won't be cold anymore after they go numb
.
After he had tied me, he stepped back and looked down at me. I was afraid to look up at him. Perhaps if I never looked directly at his face, he would let me go without killing me, knowing that I wouldn't be able to identify him for the police. That thought gave me an idea. Keeping my eyes down, I said quietly, "If you let me go right now, I won't tell anyone. I'll just go home and forget it ever happened." Maybe he'd realize he hadn't gone too far yet, there was still time to stop.
He laughed, extinguishing that brief spark of hope. He crouched down before me, reached out with one hand to tilt my face up so that I was looking straight at him. He was wearing a black cowboy hat that hid his face in shadow, a long black duster, and those black leather gloves. It struck me for some reason that they were all well-made and expensive looking. From the shadows under the brim of his hat, a pair of amused green eyes looked out at me. They were the dark, glossy green of holly leaves, a color that would have been beautiful under different circumstances.
"Sweetheart," he said with a warm, southern accent, "I don't intend to let you go until we get something straightened out. A little misunderstanding between the two of us."
My eyebrows went up, my fear abating somewhat in the face of that surprising statement. "What misunderstanding?" I leapt at the chance to gain my freedom. I'd agree to anything he said.
