I Won't Let You Die Angel

by Neal Goldy

  We passed the corridor with many interrogation rooms on either side. “So, why do you think it was a planned attack rather than just a burglary?” I asked.

  “We can’t tell you all the details until we are in our headquarters and certainly not before we interrogate you. But given the circumstances, the attacker certainly wanted something from Nicole Collins, otherwise why let her brother escape. Besides, nothing was taken from the house and nothing unusual except the broken furniture everywhere. He destroyed the house but didn’t take anything valuable, and I daresay there are many valuables in there. Normal burglars don’t do that, let alone try to torture someone without a particular reason.”

  I breathed in the cold air. This was getting more and more complicated. It was beyond normal. Something was up and Chris’s cautious tone implied it was not any less bad. We passed several officers on our way, but no one dared to stop us. Outside, a gray Volkswagen was waiting. Chris held the door open for me and I stepped inside. One more person was sitting there in the same attire as Chris with a Bluetooth in his right ear. Chris slid past me on the seat, and once again I was trapped between captors, though on a better ride.

  Several minutes passed in an unnerving silence. “Where are we going? Towards the hospital?”

  The other agent cast me a wry look, but said nothing. I started playing with my pendant involuntarily. How could anyone stay silent for that long? I certainly couldn’t. “Do you have any information regarding …”

  The car stopped abruptly, almost knocking us over each other. The agent shouted angrily, “What the ...” His voice faltered with the noise of windows breaking, Chris ducked my head in a defense gesture and pulled out his gun. We were being fired upon from every direction.

  I barely had time to recover from the shock when the door opened and a pair of hands yanked me out of the car. Chris tried to hold onto me, but the attacker was too fast, dragging me along as he emptied all the bullets from his rifle in Chris’ direction. I struggled and tried to apply a few defensive techniques I had learned in self-defense class, struck my free hand on his shoulder, and doubled over quickly trying to free my other hand from his grasp, but he was stronger than I had anticipated. He thwarted my move midway, grabbed my shoulders and threw me onto the street. Something metal hit my head and red spots appeared in my field of vision. I tried to get up, get away from this person, but my view darkened, and soon darkness engulfed me completely.

  Chapter 3

  I was on my bed drifting into sleep slowly, thinking about the turn of events today, and hoping to dream of my new crush. Two fingers tucked the strand of my hair that had come loose behind my ears. They traced my temples gently, drifting past my cheek and rubbing my jaw line softly. One hand tugged the hem of my shirt and slid inside tracing the shape of my navel. My eyes were still closed, I was still half asleep. I stiffened, clearly not liking the endeavor. I tried to shove the hand away, but he would not budge. My eyes snapped open and I tried to scream for help, but he quickly put his palm over my mouth suppressing any sound. I was helpless. I struggled in vain. Someone help me…. No……

  I bolted upright sweating profusely, my breath ragged, my heartbeat racing fast. I tried to slow my breathing and relax my senses. When my heartbeat finally returned to normal, a wave of uncertainty struck me and the reality of my situation. Unnerved, I glanced around frantically. I was in a small room with brown painted walls. There was nothing in the room except the couch I was sleeping on. No windows, just a door on the opposite wall. I tried to stand, but as I took a step, my head whirled and I collapsed on the edge of the couch. I took a deep breath and tried again, slowly rising to my feet. I felt dizzy, but became successful in taking a few steps forward. I reached the door, fiddled with the knob, silently praying it would be unlocked, and alas, it opened. So easy! Why would the kidnapper keep me in an unlocked room devoid of any supervision, not that I was complaining? It felt like a trap except I was already trapped. Woo what’s wrong with getting more trapped: so much for healthy enthusiasm. I peeked outside; no one was in my straight line of sight. I stepped outside quietly.

  I found myself in a narrow hallway; I could see stairs descending to a door, probably my passageway to freedom. I crawled slowly, making no noise. My clothes were soaked in blood, I was barefoot, and my head hurt like hell. The house was small with old tapestries decorating the walls. I reached the stairs painfully slowly and descended, still nobody around to interrupt my fortunate escapade. I searched the living room for a living soul; no one there. I tried unlocking the front door; this time it was locked. I sprinted to the kitchen, found a pocket knife after searching every drawer, and focused my entire concentration on unlocking it. After several tries, I was exhausted, unconsciousness drifting over me. No Janet, you can’t give up, you have to stay awake. Come on, you are an engineering student, think of something. I tried again using different mechanisms this time. After twenty minutes, I heard a click and turned the knob to open the door to freedom.

  I left the door ajar and ran straightaway into the alley. It was fully dark outside now. I didn’t know where I was? After a few turns, I was lost, my head aching, and my eyes beginning to shut. I tried to increase my speed and collided head-on with a hard chest. Well, you’ll have to give it to my mind, even in such a disastrous situation, it could not resist recalling Newton’s third law of motion which states, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. I staggered backward at such an abrupt angle that I could’ve ended flat on my butt – hence proving Newton’s law – if the stranger had not caught me midway.

  My vision blurred, and when it cleared, blue eyes -- like ocean water -- were watching me intensely, my knees buckling, his strong muscular arms the only thing keeping me upright. I clutched him to steady myself and he strengthened his hold as if to embrace me. I blinked for several moments and finally voiced weakly, “Help me. Please, help me.”

  He didn’t loosen his grip. “You can help yourself, Angel. If you want to live, behave or DIE.”

  A horror so intense swept over me that despite weakened limbs, I staggered backward trying to break away from him. He caught my right shoulder with one hand and tightly grabbed a fistful of my hair with the other. I yelped in pain. He dragged me by my hair all the way back to the house and to that small room, and threw me on the couch with such force that one hip collided with a sharp edge. Pain spread through my entire body. When I regained my composure, he was nowhere in the attic; the door was closed, and this time locked.

  Resigned, I sat down, wondering how I had ended up here. The day had started so wonderfully, and then everything went wrong. “Oh, how this day has ended up so drastically. Oh, it’s probably the next day already. I don’t know what time it is? I don’t know where am I? I freaking don’t know WHY I AM HERE?” Nicole, even thinking about her, made me choke on my voice. And Professor Collins is also there somewhere out there, caught just like me. My parents probably don’t even know I’m in trouble. With the FBI, at least I was safe. Chris’s chocolate brown eyes and that easy smile kept popping up in my internal vision. I embraced my knees, seeking solace in myself, and for the first time in years, I cried.

  When I woke up, my whole body ached. I had cried myself to sleep in the same sitting position. I was sprawled out on the couch and tried the doorknob in vain. Of course, the kidnapper was not a fool to repeat the same mistake twice. In fact, he was smart, I guessed. But it was my bad luck that even after escaping, I had fallen into his hands. Fate is such a cruel bitch.

  His ocean blue eyes had looked so real, compassionate, and intriguing. How could someone, with eyes so calming, be a terrorist? He could be the same person who destroyed the Collins’s place: he could be his accomplice, or he could be totally out of his league. He could be anyone. Maybe he’s just a local criminal trying to kidnap a girl for ransom. Maybe, I’m going crazy! Because this place is not local and this person is not an amateur if he is capable of freeing a girl from FBI custody.

  I was exhausted, bo
th physically and mentally. I had not eaten for hours and my throat was dry as paper. I needed to go to the loo immediately. I searched for the bathroom, but this room had none attached. I got up and started banging the door. A few moments passed, but no one appeared. I was restless now and banged louder. The door opened suddenly, and I would been have knocked over for the umpteenth time in twenty-four hours if it were not for my quick reflexes. He was standing in the doorway glaring at me lethally, a gun strapped in his belt.

  “Look, Mr. Kidnapper, before you start shooting me with your brand new gun there, I’d like to state in my defense that this banging on the door is your fault entirely.” I let the words out in one breath.

  He eyed me like I was some amusing pet who has gone out of its mind and then asked, “My fault?”

  “Well, yes. If you were not some amateur kidnapper, you would know that a captive person must be kept in a room with facilities like a washroom and drinking water.”

  “And food as well,” I added.

  Now his glare changed from naïve to bewilderment like the pet had suddenly used its mind tactfully. “Well, if you don’t show me the washroom, like right now, I’m going to ruin your already ruined floor.”

  That grabbed his attention. He yanked my right arm and dragged me, literally dragged me, like a rug downstairs into a bigger room and shoved me inside the bathroom, locking it from outside.

  “Woo… easy there, Mr. Bodybuilder. I’m a person, not some sack of flour.” I said furiously. No reply. So I did not waste any more time and used the facility I was given and needed after such an assault.

  The bathroom was small but clean: a clean white towel was hanging there. Above the shower head, there was a small window, sunlight peeping through. By the look of it, I guessed it must be around nine in the morning.

  I sighed, exasperated. Fifteen hours ago, I was going on my first date with Kevin and now…. Tears started brimming in my eyes, but I blinked, forcing them back. Crying won’t solve any purpose. I have to think….. think Janet. Think …. I can’t lose hope. Even the most difficult science experiments have a way…. There has to be some method to escape from this…. Think Janet… Think what dad used to say, every problem has a solution. You just need to concentrate enough to find it.

  As if on cue, my mind lit up with an idea. How can I be that stupid? Every movie shows this same escape route. There’s a window, I just need to reach it.

  I looked around frantically. There was a stool with a few toiletries on it. I dumped them sideways and placed the stool directly below the window. I carefully climbed on it, reaching up. The window was jammed of course! I jumped onto the floor, clasped a shampoo bottle, climbed up again and applied half the quantity on the window lid. It started softening a little.

  Just then approaching footsteps became audible. I hastily jumped back and almost had reached the door when it opened, revealing my monster abductor.

  Please don’t look past me…. Please don’t, I prayed silently. “Don’t you have a little bit of manners? Gentlemen don’t dart into a lady’s bathroom without knocking.” He raised one eyebrow, but said nothing. He started coming inside. “Stop! You… you can’t come in.”

  “Are you giving me orders Angel? Well, I don’t see a point to it. By the way, you took way too long.”

  “Don’t call me that.” I snapped.

  “What Angel?”

  “Angel… Don’t call me Angel.”

  He measured me from top to bottom with his eyes, and I suddenly became hyperaware of the fact that I was still in the same turquoise dress which had been torn here and there at the hem and now did not cover me properly. Discomfort swept through me, and I felt a sudden urge to cover myself in an oversized toga.

  He retreated back and I let out a sigh of relief. He rummaged through a cupboard and came back with brown trousers and a black shirt. He tossed them to me offhandedly and I took a look at my new outfit. They must be about 37 percent larger than my size. “Hey, these are not my size. These are not even girl’s clothing. I’m not wearing this.”

  He barely spared me a glance and filed out of the room. I had no other choice than to wear the oversize clothes. I certainly couldn’t go around in my disheveled dress. I closed the bathroom and started the shower. Escape plan number two could wait until I cleaned, up properly.

  After half an hour I was freshly showered, dried, and drowning in my new black and brown uniform. I glanced at the window apologetically. I could try to escape now, but my stomach was protesting otherwise. I had nothing, no money to buy food or a ride, just my pendant which I was in no way going to sell. Besides, I didn’t know where I was. What if he had stationed guards outside? I could not take the risk of being caught escaping again. I had a feeling that it wouldn’t be good for my health. So, promising the window I’d come back, I stepped out of the room.

  There was no one in the little dining area, but the mild fragrance of coffee was emanating from the kitchen. Now, if I hadn’t mentioned it before, I can’t resist caffeine even if it is brewed in a terrorist’s kitchen. Forgetting all my tensions, I walked into the kitchen quickly and lifted a coffee mug, totally ignoring the surprised monster beside it. I barely touched my lips to the coffee before a hand snatched it away. Coffee spilled out of the mug due to the lack of centrifugal force when it was changed from its state of inertia.

  I groaned, “Look, Mr. Monster, if you want me alive for your assignment, you will give that half-filled coffee mug to me right now.” He must have sensed something in my voice, because he warily handed the mug back. I took a sip and instantly felt a rush of energy inside me.

  I gulped down the whole cup in record time. Only when I had set the mug down on the counter, did I notice my surroundings. The kitchen was small but resourceful, groceries were stuffed in boxes and grilled sandwiches were on the other side of the counter.

  Grilled sandwiches!!!! Whoa! How come Mr. Monster managed to prepare the very food and beverage I loved? I was about to grab one, when I noticed Mr. Monster staring at me with uncertainty, like I was some wild kitten on the loose.

  “What?? It’s been almost a day since I’ve eaten something. You can’t possibly expect me to mind my manners.” I replied with equal attitude.

  He frowned and leaned closer. “Go ahead, treat yourself. We’ll be leaving soon, Angel.” I didn’t waste any time in shaping my retort at Angel; I sat cross-legged on the counter and started feasting on the yummy-looking fare.

  I want to confess something. I’m usually well-mannered and patient with everything I do. But I occasionally surprise myself. I attacked the sandwiches like I’d been starving for days and made a pig out of myself. My wet hair dangling here and there hindering my feeding and I unsuccessfully tried to brush them away. Two long, tapered fingers rolled around my tresses and fixed them behind my ear.

  I lifted my eyes in surprise as a shudder went through me. He extended his other hand and fixed some more strands behind the other ear, all the while looking into my eyes.

  For the first time, I looked at him, like really looked at him, not just his eyes. I looked at those high cheekbones, the etched jaw line, curvy mouth, brown hair, and blue eyes that looked like the sea the day before but now bore a resemblance to a cloudless sky. He had a lean, slender body and elegant hands. My god he was beautiful! Not pretty like Chris, but incredibly stunning.

  Why, oh why was I mesmerized by the absolutely wrong guys? I mentally chided myself at the incredulity. How could I change this much in just one day? I never so much as drooled over the most stunning football player and now here I was staring at my abductor.

  Like I had not been acting stupid already, I did the stupidest thing ever a girl could do in such a situation. I lifted my half-eaten sandwich and offered him a bite, “Yum…. do you want…some sandwich…?”

  That broke his trance and he moved away, quickly regaining composure of himself. He strolled several paces away from me like some reverse magnetic field had been initiated. “Finish quickly. I don’t
have all the time in the world,” He said blandly.

  My appetite was now surprisingly lost, but I still ate my unfinished sandwich and scooted down from the counter. Mr. Monster was busy on his cell phone, and to my utmost surprise, the window on the far side of the kitchen was wide open revealing a narrow street. His back was facing me. This was perfect timing. I slowly dawdled towards the window and took a peek outside. Not a soul in sight. Then I looked back: he was still busy on the phone. I silently thanked the gods and jumped out the window.

  Chapter 4

  Well, I thanked the gods a little too early. When has God ever listened to my pleadings? I had merely put one foot on the ground when someone grabbed me from behind. I stuck my elbow in his stomach, but he remained unfazed. I tried to maneuver my free hand toward his throat to strangle him, but his head tilted sideways making my hand twist in pain. He grasped my waist in an iron hold and pulled me back over the windowsill.

  I landed on top of him, my back colliding with his hard chest while his arms gripped me strongly at the waist. He rolled me over and now he was on top of me, his body weight crushing me. I gasped for air.

  “Aren’t you an intelligent little kitten?” He said in a surprisingly calm tone.

  He restrained my hands above my head and tangled his legs with mine in such a manner that I couldn’t even move an inch.

  “Now will you call it a day or do you want to play more? I certainly am in no mood to role play Tom and Jerry.”

  “Jerry’s cuter than you.” I made an obvious point.

  “What?”

  “You just want to be a kitten, so I’ll obviously be playing Tom. That leaves you to play Jerry.” Here I was, restrained by an absolutely dangerous fugitive and my mind was playing Albert Einstein. Great, just great, now I’m officially crazy.

  Saying he looked amused would be an understatement. If my mind hadn’t been preoccupied with so many thoughts, I’d have swore I saw his lips twitch sideways in an attempt to hide an obvious smile.