Run Away Baby

by Holly Tierney-Bedord

  “Okay,” Abby said. She noticed Meggie didn’t ask him why she was babysitting Abby, and using a gun to do so.

  “I can’t control her. She’s taller than me. And I’m sleepy! You need to tie her up or something,” Meggie said to Rake.

  “No. That’s not necessary at all,” said Abby. “I’ll behave myself. Please don’t tie me up. I’m fine. I’ll sit right here and be good.”

  “Shut up,” Rake told her.

  “Charlie,” Abby said, “please tell them that I won’t do anything. Tell them not to tie me up.”

  “Whatever you’ve got planned for those people, I don’t like it,” Charlie said to Rake.

  “But you’ll help me,” said Rake. Charlie nodded an almost imperceptible nod. Rake turned to Meggie then. “Go get the duct tape out of my truck.”

  “Which kind?”

  “The roll of gray tape. Bring it down here.”

  She ran up to his truck and was back a couple of minutes later with it. Rake took it from her and said to Abby in a noxiously sweet voice, “Do you need to tinkle before I tape you to your chair?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then do it.”

  She rose from the chair and took a step away from the fire pit. Rake shook his head. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Up the hill a little ways.”

  “Do it here if you have to.”

  “In front of you all?”

  “Yeah. Do it.”

  “I can hold it,” she said. She’d wet her pants later in the chair, if it came to that.

  “Then sit back down.” The whole time Charlie sat there, staring off in the distance, drinking his beer. Abby’s saga was unfolding before him like a TV show someone had left on in another room.

  Rake wrapped the tape around her waist, all the way around the back of the chair, in several layers. He avoided taking it to a sexual level, perhaps because Meggie was feet away, smoking a cigarette, a gun resting in her lap. She looked sad and sick and uncomfortable, but not shocked, not confused. She looked to Abby like a kid who needed to go home and take some Pepto after a long, overstimulating day at an amusement park.

  Rake taped Abby’s wrists to the chair’s armrests. There was no fabric to protect them and she couldn’t imagine what kind of torture it would be removing the tape. If it ever got removed. Maybe this would be how they’d find her. A mosquito landed on her cheek and she tried to blow it away.

  “Pesky little fucker,” said Rake, brushing at it. “Is that better?”

  “Yeah,” she said.

  “Good. Glad I could be of service.” He applied a little more tape, to be on the safe side. “Another layer of the good stuff,” he said. He held up the roll of tape. “And this is good stuff. You can fix a leaky pipe, a rusty car, hell, you can hold your whole fucking house together with a roll of this.” He tore off a small piece and stuck it over her mouth. She waved her head back and forth emphatically. He yanked off the tape. “What’s the problem now?”

  “I can’t breathe. Please. My nose is stuffed up from my allergies.”

  “You don’t have allergies.”

  “Yes I do.”

  “Your nose ain’t stuffed up.”

  “Yes it is!” She sniffed weakly a couple of times. “See? Please,” she turned to Charlie, “tell him that I won’t be able to breathe if my mouth is covered. I’ll suffocate. I’m not kidding. Please!”

  “Don’t cover her mouth,” said Charlie.

  “Are there really bullets in here?” Meggie said.

  “Yeah there’s fucking bullets,” Rake said to Meggie, not looking up at her as he wound tape around Abby’s ankles, affixing them to the aluminum chair legs. Then he got right up in Abby’s face, extra close, his warm beer breath huffing against her eyeballs. “Fit as a fiddle,” he said. He stood up and dusted himself off.

  “Can you show me again how to use this thing?” asked Meggie.

  “Cock it, point and click. Only you’re not going to have to worry about it, because our prisoner’s gonna behave herself. Right?” he said.

  “Right,” said Abby.

  “Now you sit tight. Let Meggie entertain you with some of her stories. Have a little story time. Chuck and me’ll be back before you know it.”

  Abby pressed her lips together, aware that it hadn’t hurt at all when he’d ripped off the tape that had been covering her mouth. Perhaps because he’d just applied it, or maybe it was old or not really the ‘good stuff’ after all.

  Charlie stood up then and he and Rake began walking in the direction they supposed the neighbor lived. It wasn’t long before they were back. They picked Abby up and carried her in her chair toward the two small sheds.

  “What’s going on?” Meggie yelled, dancing along beside them.

  They dropped Abby between the sheds, then turned and were on their way again. Meggie brought her chair over along with a handful of hotdogs. When Meggie handed two of the hotdogs to Abby, she inhaled them both, too hungry to complain that they were slimy and uncooked, or that Meggie had been holding them in her bare hands.

  Meggie stood there watching, pointing the gun at Abby like she thought she was supposed to do. Every couple of seconds she’d flail the gun around as she swatted away mosquitoes.

  “You’re making me kind of nervous,” Abby said.

  “I’m nervous too,” said Meggie.

  “We don’t have to do what they tell us, you know.”

  “Well,” Meggie said. Abby waited for her to continue, but she didn’t.

  “I don’t think you need to point that at me unless I do something bad. And if you accidentally kill me, they might be mad because I’m guessing they have more use for me alive right now,” Abby said, trying to sound reasonable and not bossy.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” said Meggie. She lowered her hand with the gun to her side.

  “What are they going to do to those people?” Abby asked.

  “I don’t know. Probably… Oh, I don’t know. You never know with them.”

  “You mean they’re both unpredictable? Charlie too?”

  “Especially Charlie,” Meggie said with a laughing snort.

  Abby shook her head.

  “It’s buggy over here without the fire,” said Meggie. “Why do we have to sit over here?”

  “Probably because they realized once they got into the dark and looked down at the fire that they could see us way too easily.”

  “So?” said Meggie.

  “Well, if they could, so could anyone else who was looking. And I’m taped to a chair. It looks a little suspicious.”

  “Oh. Right. I’m gonna look in Rake’s truck for some bug spray. You can’t move, right? You’re totally stuck there?”

  “Yeah,” Abby said.

  She went away, having the audacity to whistle a little song as she departed. This was, of course, Abby’s moment to escape. She would never have a better opportunity. She might never be alone again. Something else she had learned in Wilderness Bob’s classes was that survival was first come, first served. In other words, take your chance when you can. Grab it. It might be your only one.

  Abby leaned forward, attempting to catch the curling edge of some of the duct tape on her left wrist with her teeth. It was just the teensiest bit of tape; she was having no luck. She drew in a deep breath, trying to calm down, trying to steady herself. She gave it another try, this time tugging at a bit of it with her dry lips. The tape rose just enough that she could then grab it with her teeth. She pulled at it and a few inches of tape peeled back, lifting away from itself without much resistance. She turned her head and was able to pull back another couple of inches, but then it flopped and hung down beneath the chair arm, in a place she couldn’t easily reach. She froze, listening for the guys, listening for Meggie. The only thing she heard was a light, tinkling jangle, like a little angel ringing a bell. She looked around, squinting into the darkness, trying to determine where the sound was coming from. She saw nothing that explained it.
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  She stuck her neck around the side of the chair, attempting to bite for the end of tape. It was like a desperate game of bobbing for apples. Once the end of the tape almost caught in her teeth, but slipped away. She paused, looked around, listening. There was that noise again, and suddenly, standing right in front of her, was a little black and white dog.

  Her heart froze. This was not a good place for him to be.

  “Oh no. Whatever you do, don’t bark,” she whispered to him. “You need to get out of here.”

  He sniffed her hands. Undoubtedly they smelled like hotdogs. For a brief second, she imagined him grabbing the end of the duct tape and unwrapping her like Lassie. It didn’t happen. He licked her hand.

  Seeing him there, knowing how doomed he would be if Charlie and Rake returned, or if Meggie saw him and wanted to keep him as her pet, Abby’s wavering adrenaline kicked up a notch. She struggled again to catch the end of the tape in her teeth. She got it and unwrapped another loop. Now the piece hanging was long and easy to grab. She unlooped and unlooped with her teeth until her left hand was free. The last bit of it hurt as it was ripped off, yanking out her arm hair, but it really wasn’t any worse than getting waxed. She unwrapped her right hand and her waist and ankles, her pulse hammering high in the middle of her chest, as if her heart was working its way up her esophagus. She was dizzy with disbelief, dizzy that she was actually doing it. She stood up and without a second’s hesitation, she started running.

  She ran past the back of the shed, in the opposite direction the guys had gone, into the orange grove, running in the direction that she believed would take her toward town. The dog was running beside her. He thought this was fun. Somehow she kept going and going. She didn’t stop to listen for footsteps or voices, she just kept running. She couldn’t even guess how long she ran. An hour? Longer? She had no idea. She began to slow down. The orange grove had turned into a forest now. Hopefully it wouldn’t turn swampy. Hopefully they wouldn’t encounter alligators or wild boars or panthers.

  They began ascending a slight wooded hill. Near the top Abby stopped to catch her breath and scan her surroundings. Far off in the distance she saw a campfire. It seemed very, very far away. This was the moment that gave her hope. Real hope. Not a flicker of hope, or a taste of hope, but straight up Hope. Her eyes filled with tears. Rake and Charlie and Meggie were way down there. She was way up here. She savored the moment, the view for a minute or two. Then she kept moving.

  The little dog (she refused to think of him as Charlie) had boundless energy. They ran when Abby could run, and when she got tired they walked. Her feet were raw from her new shoes but she kept pushing on through the pain. The little dog stayed beside her, keeping pace with her. They kept moving all through the night, never stopping.

  As she saw a faint pink haze rising along the eastern sky, they came to a highway. She held the dog’s collar to keep him from running out into the road. He and Abby cowered in the periphery of the woods and watched a semi-truck go flying past. Once all was clear, she and the dog darted across the highway into the woods on the other side, just before another semi-truck came barreling along.

  As they ran through the woods, keeping parallel to the highway, Abby caught glimpses of a sign off in the distance. She had seen that sign twice now. It said Grandaddy’s Ho-Made Jam next right. A person really can’t forget a sign like that. Especially when they’ve buried $40,000 on the road to Grandaddy’s place.

  Chapter 45

  Once they’d crossed the highway and run a little farther, Abby felt safe enough to finally sit down to think. She guessed she was within a mile of where she’d buried her money, license, and passport. Once she got to that area, she’d be close to Grove. Soon after that they would have little woods to hide in.

  The little dog lay down beside her, panting. Abby was unsure whether it was safer to hide here in the woods all day and wait until dark to move again, or to keep plowing along.

  She decided she was too close to her money and ID not to go to them. It was early enough that most people were still sleeping. Except Rake and Charlie and Meggie, of course, who were likely combing the whole countryside for her. She stood up, her muscles crying out. She never should have taken a break. She started running again, the little dog now wearily beside her. Her pounding feet became the prayers of her mind: Help me find the stuff I hid, and Did my family send this dog to me, and I’m sorry I’m leading this dog from his home, over and over, each step a syllable, each sentence repeating until another butted in. Keeping within hearing distance of the highway, they plodded on.

  The trees began to thin and up ahead Abby saw a smaller road cutting through the forest in front of them. Before they reached it, while still camouflaged by the trees, she veered off to the right, now keeping that smaller road in her view. The gushing, repetitive roar of semi-trucks began to fade. They walked until they came to a little gully. Abby walked down into it. To her left, above her head now, was a little bridge. This was where she had parked Esmeralda’s car a few days ago. The hand spade was poking out of some weeds, right where she’d left it. She grabbed it, scanned the area under the bridge for the flat marker rock she’d left for herself, found it, and slid it away. A speck of a plastic bag poked out. She didn’t have to dig; she pulled the bag from the dry dirt. It was all there, as she had left it. She shoved the rocks and gravel back into place. Nothing looked unusual. It was dry and dusty, and looked like any old ditch. There were a couple of faded aluminum cans that may have been there for weeks or years. Weedy wildflowers. Nothing else to report. She wiped off the hand spade and tossed it into the weeds. Even if someone found it, she couldn’t think of any reason they’d believe it had anything to do with her.

  Holding her critical bundle tight against her chest, Abby ran through the dry gully, beneath the bridge to the other side of the road, and made her way back toward the highway, getting as close as she dared. The Monday morning traffic noise was picking up. She had planned to break into someone’s house and gather some of the things she would need. In her head, this part would be easy, but now it seemed impossible. For one thing, people out here were poor. It seemed there was always someone home at a poor person’s house.

  The trees were thinning and the highway noise was getting louder. A loopy disconnect was settling over Abby. She was so exhausted that she felt a little out of control. She became concerned about the little dog darting through the woods to the highway and getting struck by a car.

  She went back into the forest to where it was denser and she lay down by a tree, trying to cover herself with dirt, leaves, branches. Here it was humid and mossy. Mosquitoes swarmed above them and the bugs of the forest floor began crawling over their bodies. Abby clutched her bundle to her stomach. She swatted the bugs away, amazed at how sleepy she was. They kept coming back but she was too tired to care.

  This is stupid to do this, she told herself. This is dangerous.

  But so was every other option.

  The little dog curled up beside her and they drifted off together.

  Chapter 46

  When Abby woke up she was surprised to find herself in the same spot, untouched, still safe, still holding the plastic bag containing her new identity. The dog was gone. It took a fraction of a second to register her situation, and another fraction to notice she was alone. She sat up and looked around, listening for the jingling music of the dog’s tags hitting his collar. There was no sound except for the birds and rustling of the forest; he may have been gone for hours.

  She stood and stretched. The sun was high. She guessed it was early afternoon. She was thirsty and covered in insect bites, but otherwise she felt sharp and healthy. Ready for more.

  She began walking through the woods, away from the highway, along the edge of a fence line. The opposite side of the fence abruptly turned from forest to clear countryside. There were pastures with cattle grazing off to her left. She stayed just beyond the tree line, grateful to have a retraceable route in case she should need it,
deciding to get away from the highway for a while.

  Before long, Abby saw a single shack at the end of a long, lonely dirt driveway. She crouched down to watch this forlorn homestead. Five or ten minutes went by with no sign of movement. Seeing no cars near it and no garage for cars to hide in, she decided to make her move. She’d gone only a few steps when a brown lump near the house stirred and stood up. Abby ducked back down and retreated into the forest as the dog raised its head, sniffed, and began to bark. It was a huge pit bull, chained to a post. It sniffed some more and upped its barking to a ferocious, warning level. A moment later the door opened and a woman came out in sweatpants and a bra. She looked around suspiciously, saw nothing, and turned on the garden hose. She squirted the dog and yelled at it until it slunk down in angry resignation.

  When the dog finally settled back down, Abby continued walking, going a little farther from the pasture. The forest here was not nearly as dense as it had been earlier. If it got any thinner she feared she would have to hide out until dark.

  Up a small hill, the forest thickened up again. From here Abby could look down at pastures and see a bit of the highway in the distance. The panic that had been mounting as the forest had been turning sparser and sparser subsided a little. For now, she was safe.

  Up ahead a little she saw what looked like a mini-housing development from the 1980’s. Five raised ranches plunked down in the middle of nowhere in a fanned out semi-circle. All five had fences indicating they probably had pools. They looked a little rundown, like the start of something that never took off. One had a camper parked beside it. Another had a saggy trampoline. All looked deserted. She steered clear of these houses and kept going.

  When she started going down the hill, she passed a gully that was filled with a big heap of garbage. An actual garbage dump. Judging from the stuff piled there, no one had used it for years. There were old cars, old refrigerators, old broken dishes. As soon as she passed it, she found herself on a rutty dirt road. Walking on a road, even a deserted dirt road, felt like a bad idea, so she stepped off it and wandered back into the woods a little. She sat down and listened, suddenly uneasy.