by Jane Blythe
As Ricky had pushed her along with him through the woods, she’d still done her best to escape. But the pace he’d set had been too much; her injured leg couldn’t cope and had given out on her so many times that Ricky had gotten fed up with her and started to drag her. That had been worse. Unable to protect herself, branches had scraped her face and arms and legs, tearing through her clothing. Her feet, clad only in socks, had thudded into rocks and tree trunks, and were now so painful she wasn’t even sure she could walk on them.
Still, the pain hadn't won out. The second that Ricky dropped her on the snowy ground, she had sprung into action. Sprung might not be the best word. Her battered and bruised and bound body wouldn’t allow her to spring, but it hadn't prevented her from shuffling backward.
Of course, that, too, was pointless.
Ricky had merely watched her with interest and then when he was ready, he pinned her to the ground. As he’d straddled her, she had gone berserk. She’d thrashed desperately, like a trapped animal, ignoring the pain in her wrists and leg.
Again, it had done no good.
He was on top of her and she could feel him pressed against her stomach. Through the tape on her mouth, she tried to beg him not to. Tried to beg him to leave her alone.
But when his hands took hold of the waistband of her sweatpants, she froze.
It was like she lost the ability to move.
She didn’t even notice the icy air against her bare flesh.
As awful as what Ricky Preston was about to do to her, Isabella’s betrayal was worse.
How could her sister let this happen?
No, not just let, but actively encourage.
Isabella had known that Ricky was going to do this and she had led him straight to her. Her sister had been selfish. Once again, Isabella had been so caught up in what she wanted that she had completely disregarded the consequences of her actions to others. Her sister had basically agreed to let Ricky keep her as a prisoner, a sex slave, just so they would be together. What kind of sister did that?
Even Isabella’s betrayal couldn’t occupy her mind enough to distract her from what was happening to her.
Ricky was just forcing himself inside her when a scream split through the night and something launched at them.
Too shocked to move, Sofia just lay on the ground, panting.
“I told you to keep your hands off my sister,” Isabella screeched.
“And I told you that I do whatever I want,” Ricky returned.
Isabella was a big girl, bigger and stronger than Sofia, but she was still no match for Ricky. He swung his fist at her and connected with her face. The blow caused Isabella to lose her grip on Ricky.
Her wild gaze darted from Ricky to Isabella, who lay bleeding in the snow, and Sofia suddenly regained control of her body. Frantically, she tried to move. But with her arms behind her and her pants around her knees she didn’t get very far.
Ricky moved quickly. Before Isabella had a chance to recover, Ricky had positioned himself behind Sofia, using her as a human shield. Sofia would have tried to break free but Ricky held a knife to her throat.
Isabella moved too, brushing at the blood gushing from a wound on her cheek; she pulled out a gun and pointed it at them.
“You can't get the shot,” Ricky taunted.
“Let her go,” Isabella replied calmly.
Relief rushed through Sofia. Isabella couldn’t go through with it. She couldn’t let Ricky hurt her. Isabella had saved her from being raped and she could save her from Ricky. Her sister was a perfect shot, even with Ricky using her as a human shield Isabella should be able to get an angle.
“Try anything and I’ll kill her,” Ricky said in such a serious voice that Sofia couldn’t help but shiver.
In fact, she couldn’t seem to stop shivering. The cold was getting to her. She wasn’t properly dressed to be outdoors on a winter’s night. If she didn’t get somewhere warm soon, she was going to become hypothermic.
“You won't,” Isabella protested, although she didn’t sound quite convinced.
“Oh, I will,” Ricky assured her.
“You’d kill my sister? You said you loved me. If you really did, you couldn’t kill my sister,” Isabella countered.
“I don’t want to kill her, but I most certainly will if you leave me no choice. It’s not too late,” Ricky sounded a little desperate now. “We can still do what we planned. We can take your sister back to the car and drive to the cabin. We can keep her alive, Annabelle, too. We can be a family. We can get married just like we wanted. And Sophie—you and your sister can raise her. You get what you want, a husband, a family, your sister, and I get what I want, Annabelle. It’s not too late,” he repeated beseechingly.
For a moment, it looked like Isabella was going to cave in, do what Ricky wanted. Sofia tensed, trying to still the tremors racking her body enough so she could focus. Between Ricky and Isabella, her chances of getting away were slim, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. She wasn’t going to willingly surrender and let them lock her away in some remote cabin for the rest of her life so Ricky could rape her whenever he pleased.
“I'm sorry, Ricky.” Isabella looked genuinely remorseful. “It’s already too late. Earlier I didn’t call to check on Sophie. I called Ryan. I asked him to come and get Sofia. I couldn’t go through with it. I'm sorry.”
“Then I have nothing to lose,” Ricky said.
What happened next became all hazy and jumbled in her memory.
Ricky plunged the knife into her stomach.
Sofia was immediately engulfed in white-hot burning pain. Warm, sticky blood gushed from her wound. As she looked down, her gray sweatshirt slowly turned red, the stain growing bigger and bigger.
Immediately light-headed, all Sofia could do was slump down against the cold earth. She knew she was completely helpless now, at the mercy of Ricky and Isabella, but there was nothing she could do about it. Her head was swirling so badly she had to clench her eyes closed in a desperate bid to control it and remain conscious.
Above her there was a loud bang.
It sounded like a gunshot, but she was too dizzy to put much effort into figuring out what was going on.
Something beside her went thunk. The sound seemed to reverberate through the dirt and into her head.
There was another bang.
Another gunshot?
Then footsteps.
Maybe someone shouted her name?
Then nothing.
* * * * *
2:10 A.M.
She had just shot someone.
Annabelle couldn’t believe she’d done it. But she hadn't had a choice.
Back at the car, when Isabella Everette had come at her with the knife she had been convinced that she was about to die. However, the younger woman had simply sawed through the bindings then tossed her the knife.
It hadn't taken Annabelle long to free her ankles, but it took a moment before circulation was restored enough for her to walk. She hadn't had to debate what to do next. She wasn’t going to hide and wait for Ryan, and presumably Xavier, to come and find her. Ricky Preston had Sofia, and he was planning on raping her. Isabella had taken off after them, supposedly concerned for her sister’s safety, but Annabelle couldn’t be sure she truly was. Isabella was just as responsible for abducting them, restraining them, and tossing them in the trunk as Ricky was.
So, Annabelle knew she had to go after them.
She couldn’t go unarmed, though.
Rifling through the car, she had come across a gun. Annabelle had never shot a gun in her life. Never even touched one. But that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was finding Sofia so they could both go home.
Praying that Xavier and Ryan weren’t far away, she had headed off in the same direction as Isabella. She had wandered through the woods for a while before finally stumbling upon them.
When she found them, Sofia had been lying on the ground. She wasn’t moving. And Annabelle could see, even from where
she was, that the front of Sofia’s clothing was drenched in blood.
While her gaze had been riveted on Sofia’s white face, a gunshot had gone off. On instinct, she had reacted. Shooting at the only person left standing. Hitting Isabella Everette.
The woman had dropped instantly.
A small red dot on her back.
Remaining where she was for a moment, when Isabella didn’t move, just lay where she’d fallen, face down in the snow, Annabelle ran to Sofia’s side.
“Sofia?” she called as she crouched beside her still form, pulling the tape off Sofia’s mouth.
For the longest moment Sofia just lay there, unresponsive, then her eyelids began to flutter, then opened, blinking as if trying to focus. “Annabelle?”
She sighed in relief. “Yeah, its me.”
“What happened?” Sofia’s voice was weak, barely more than a whisper.
“You don’t remember?” Annabelle didn’t know a lot about first aid but she thought that was a bad sign, maybe Sofia had hit her head.
She scrunched up her face. “Ricky stabbed me, then there was a bang. No, two bangs. Gunshots? Isabella and Ricky, they’re both dead?” she asked, she was shivering violently, her teeth chattering.
“Yeah, I'm sorry.” Annabelle knew that Sofia loved her sister, and no matter what, she was going to be devastated that she was dead. How would she react when she found out that she was the one who had done it? That was something to worry about later. Right now, she had to tend to Sofia until Xavier and Ryan found them. On the plus side, Ricky Preston was dead. Isabella had shot him. Now he could never hurt her again. The sense of relief was overwhelming.
“I need to see her.” Sofia made a feeble attempt at moving, but was hampered by her injury and her binds.
“I think you better stay still; you're bleeding pretty badly,” Annabelle cautioned.
“Bleeding?” Sofia repeated.
“From the knife wound,” Annabelle reminded her, pulling out the knife Isabella had given her earlier. “Let me cut you free, then I’ll find something to use on your wound.” Trying to be gentle, she eased Sofia, who moaned with pain, onto her side so she could cut the plastic tie, releasing Sofia’s bloody wrists.
Turning her so she lay on her back once again, Annabelle searched for something to use to stop the bleeding. She was wearing only jeans and a hoodie, but Isabella had on a scarf. Attempting not to look directly at Isabella’s lifeless eyes, she quickly yanked off the scarf and pressed it to Sofia’s wound. “I'm going to tie this around your waist,” she informed Sofia as she tugged it underneath her and tied it as tightly as she could.
Reluctantly, Annabelle brought up the next pressing issue, attempting to make her voice gentle. “Sofia? Your pants are pulled down; did Ricky rape you?” Having to ask someone else, that brought home how awful it must have been for Xavier to have to tell her about what Ricky had done to her.
Tears welled up in her eyes. “He started to, but Isabella stopped him,” she whispered.
“Okay,” she brushed softly at Sofia’s red hair, “let’s pull your pants back up, you're already so cold.” Trying to be as careful as she could, Annabelle got Sofia’s pants sorted.
Now she had to figure out what to do next. They could wait here for Xavier and Ryan to find them, but who knew how long that would be? Even if they found the car, they’d still have to search the woods for them. It could take them hours to locate where they were. Sofia was bleeding, and already hypothermic, they couldn’t stay put. They were going to have to try and make it back to the car. The car would provide warmth, and if Ricky had left the keys, then Annabelle could drive and meet the guys partway. Walking for the car was risky, too. Annabelle wasn’t entirely sure of the way back, and Sofia was injured and she wasn’t wearing any shoes. Still, it seemed like the only viable option.
“Sofia?”
Slowly, her gray eyes opened. “Yeah?”
“Do you think you can walk? I know you're hurt, but you're too cold, you can't stay out here any longer. We have to get you someplace warm. We need to get back to the car; do you think you can make it?”
“Yeah, I can make it,” Sofia said bravely, although in her eyes was doubt.
“I’ll help you, we’ll go as slowly as you need to,” Annabelle assured her. Sofia’s body temperature should start to rise if they kept moving. She slipped an arm around Sofia’s shoulders and she helped her to slowly rise. Sofia whimpered in pain, but didn’t complain. Keeping an arm around her waist to keep her upright, Annabelle gave her a moment to get herself together before they started moving.
Their progress was painstakingly slow. Sofia was weak, both from blood loss and hypothermia. Her bad leg was obviously making things more difficult for her, and her feet seemed to be bothering her, too. Annabelle considered giving Sofia her shoes, but realized that wasn’t going to work. One of them had to be able to walk properly, and since Sofia was already half-unconscious on her feet it was going to have to be her.
Annabelle wasn’t used to having people rely on her like that. Sure, her parents had relied on her to run the home and care for her little sister, but that wasn’t the same. No one’s life was at stake. This was different. This was all up to her. The responsibility was overwhelming, but also invigorating. It felt good to be needed. It also felt good to know that she could do it. She could get Sofia to the car and warm her up. In fact, with Ricky Preston dead, there wasn’t anything she couldn’t do now.
Sofia stumbled again, but Annabelle managed to keep her on her feet, although she was now carrying most of Sofia’s weight. “You doing okay? Do you need to take a break?”
“I'm okay, just dizzy,” Sofia gasped through her chattering teeth.
“All right, a little farther then we’ll rest for a bit,” Annabelle assured her. They couldn’t afford to rest for too long. The quicker they got Sofia someplace warm the better, but she also couldn’t push her so hard that she passed out. If Sofia lost consciousness, there was no way Annabelle could get her back to the car.
They made it another five minutes or so before Sofia all but collapsed. Annabelle lowered her to the ground and propped her up against a tree. Sofia rested her head back against the trunk and closed her eyes. Her skin was pale—too pale—a bluish tint on her lips. Her skin felt like ice. She was still shivering, but her shivers were starting to fade. Annabelle knew that wasn’t a good sign. As long as her body was shivering, it was trying to create heat. Once it stopped, they were in trouble.
A couple of minutes later Annabelle roused Sofia, helped her to her feet again, and off they set. This time they made it only a few minutes before Sofia sagged against her, and Annabelle was forced to lower her back down to the ground.
“I'm sorry,” Sofia murmured, eyes already closed.
“It’s fine,” Annabelle assured her. “You're doing great.”
However, Annabelle knew her assurances weren’t founded in fact. They weren’t doing great. They weren’t making enough progress. Sofia was never going to make it to the car. Eventually she wasn’t going to be able to stand up. And that eventually wasn’t too far off.
What should Annabelle do then?
Should she leave Sofia and try and find the car herself then lead the guys back to her? Could she even do that? She wasn’t an outdoorsy person. She wasn’t even sure they were going in the right direction. If she left Sofia, could she find the car alone? And if she did, would she be able to find her way back?
Should she try carrying, or even dragging Sofia along with her? That might make her wound worse. It was still bleeding, and Annabelle didn’t know enough about medicine to know how bad it was, but she thought that dragging Sofia probably wasn’t the best idea.
Their only option seemed to be to keep moving as best as they could for as long as they could.
“Come on, let’s try a little more,” Annabelle encouraged, pulling Sofia up alongside her.
“Okay,” Sofia groggily agreed.
As they set off again, Annabelle
began praying that the guys would arrive soon. If it was up to her, she didn’t think she could get either of them out of these woods and to safety.
* * * * *
2:52 A.M.
“Look, there’s a car,” Ryan gestured at a white sedan a few hundred yards ahead of them.
“Yeah, I see it.” Xavier sped up.
Moments later, they were pulling to a stop behind the car. Ryan jumped from the car, gun in hand and was approaching the car before Xavier had even turned the engine off.
The white sedan appeared to be empty. The front passenger door was open, as was the trunk. Xavier came up beside him as he examined the trunk. Inside were three plastic zip ties and smudges of blood.
“They were here,” Ryan announced, scanning the woods around them.
“You think they got away?” Xavier asked, picking up the ties and examining them.
“Not unless someone let them,” he replied. Bound and locked in the trunk, there was no way the girls had gotten away of their own volition.
“Isabella?”
“That would be my guess,” he confirmed. Isabella had had a change of heart; she wasn’t going to let Ricky hurt the girls, so it was completely plausible that she had helped them escape.
“Then where are they?” Xavier asked. “She knew we were coming, why wouldn’t she be here waiting for us? It’s cold out and neither Annabelle nor Sofia were dressed for a winter night, why would she leave the car?”
“Maybe she didn’t have a choice,” he mused. “She couldn’t have called me in front of Ricky. She would have had to leave him alone with the girls to make the call. Maybe when she got back he’d already taken them, or at least one of them,” his heart clenched as he thought of what Sofia might be going through as they stood here wondering.
“Yeah, maybe,” Xavier agreed. “Which way are we going?”
Examining the woods close to the car, if Ricky had taken one or both girls, he could have hurt them. If they picked the wrong direction, it could be too late to save them by the time they eventually located them. It was dark and determining where the woods had been recently disturbed was difficult. Finally, he stopped in front of a spot where the branches looked broken.
