My Abduction Ch. 02

The van rocked me into a lull, and the men said very little as we drove along the highway. The sun slid across the sky, and as daylight turned into dusk, we began to weave through mountains once again. The motion of the car going through the switchbacks began to make me nauseous. I was glad I hadn't eaten in the last twenty-four hours, or I probably would have vomited already. A reluctance to engage with my captors made me hesitant to say anything about needing to stop the car, but when I moaned, Samson spoke up from the back seat.

"Sean, would you pull the car over already? I know that you can hear she's about to nark." He sounded exasperated, like they'd had previous issues.

"You think that's a good idea? She could try and run off again." Sean sounded defensive. They've definitely disagreed before.

"Well," Samson said coolly, "I suppose if you're so worried about it, you can chase her down again if she does run." It was dark, so I couldn't be sure, but it seemed like Sean's ears turned red. I got a snide satisfaction from seeing his embarrassment. He was definitely the one I had taken down in the park. The smugness I felt disappeared as another wave of nausea hit me, and I couldn't keep from moaning.

"If she pukes in here, you're the one who's cleaning it up," Samson warned from the back. I heard an incoherent mumble from the front seat, and chuckled. That was a bad idea. My chuckle turned into a hiccup, which almost turned into vomit. Sean sighed irritably, but I was relieved when he pulled the van off to the side of the road. Thor reached across my lap to unbuckle the seat belt, and used my bicep to steer me out of the van.

The cool night air caressed my skin, and I sighed with relief as it washed across my forehead. Thor led me a few feet from the car, and when I stumbled, he clutched tightly to my bicep and glared at me.

I scoffed, "If you think I'm going to try and run right now, you're insane. But thank you for your concern." A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I stopped, bending over at the waist to keep from falling over.

"Do you need to sit down?" How sweet, he actually seemed concerned. I nodded, and he helped me kneel on the cool gravel. Wave after wave of nausea washed over me, each stronger than the last, until I finally couldn't contain it any more and vomited. He held my hair back from my face, and when I wasn't doing any more than dry heaving, he held a bottle of water in front of me. I nodded again, and he poured some into my mouth. I rinsed my teeth off, and spat it on the ground. When he didn't offer me any more, I had to ask.

"Please, could I have some more?" It was like a knife in my gut to bend my pride enough to ask, but I was smart enough to know that I had lost a lot of bodily fluids. Speaking of, I really needed to use the restroom. He poured more water into my mouth, and I swallowed gratefully, felling my headache ease. I felt my face burn with a blush, and could hardly mumble my request.

"I need to use the bathroom."

"What was that?" My face burned even more as I convinced myself to repeat it, this time more loudly.

"I need to use the bathroom. Could you untie my hands so I can do it myself? I don't have the strength to run away, even if I tried. Please?" I hated myself for begging, but I couldn't stand having him help me balance while I used the bathroom. He was quiet for a moment, and I was sure that he would refuse my request. He surprised me by crouching behind me, and untying my wrists.

"You remember what happened the last time you ran." It wasn't a question, and it wasn't a threat. It was a promise. I wouldn't be able to handle another experience like that right now, and he and I both knew it. My head was heavy, and I got dizzy again when I nodded.

"I need you to answer me." His voice was stern, and left no room for argument.

My voice cracked as I said, "I understand."

"Be back in two minutes." My legs shook as I stood, and the heels they had put me in made it even harder to walk to the thin tree line. It wasn't much, but it was better than having someone in the bathroom with me. When I stood, I almost couldn't make myself walk back to the van. I stood there for almost a minute, and could feel the clock ticking down to when Thor would come after me with a Taser. My high heels seemed to be weighed down with lead, and my legs didn't want to move. The first step I took back towards my imprisonment almost brought me to my knees. Only pure stubbornness kept me from falling. I wasn't about to give these men more power over me than they already had.

The second step I took was easier, but it still felt like I was stepping onto quicksand ready to pull me down and drown me. I clung to my pride and made myself take a third step, then a fourth, and then a fifth, all the while staring at the ground in front of me. When I bumped into something, I assumed it was a tree. When I looked up to see his blue eyes piercing into mine, I almost fell backwards.

"Your two minutes are up. Time to go back." His voice was passive and uncaring as he said it, reminding me that this was a job to him, one he clearly took very seriously. He wouldn't hesitate to do what was necessary to keep me within his possession. His hands were firm on my shoulders as he turned me around to tie my hands again. I pleaded with him again, this time to keep from being bound. My shoulders were cramping and my body ached enough as it was, keeping my arms in a strained position for who knows how much longer was a bad idea.

"Do you really think I have any way to try and escape? What difference does it make if my hands are tied or not? It's hurting, and I'm hurt enough as it is. You don't need to tie me up again."

He didn't tie my arms again, and I sighed with relief when I didn't feel the ropes around my wrists.

"We'll see what John has to say." John? Samson? That must be who he meant. Now I knew two names – Sean, the driver, and John, the brown-haired man that had watched me in my apartment. John seemed to be the leader of sorts. Now, I needed to find out what Thor's real name was. I was still reluctant to ask any questions. I may be in a desperate situation, but that didn't mean I would ask them for any more information than I could deduce myself.

When we approached the van, I could make out heated voices from inside. When the door slid open, it sounded like Sean was the one who was angry.

"What the fuck, man? Why isn't she tied? She could run off! What are you thinking?" To my surprise, Thor didn't answer – John did.

"Would you try and run off after being Tasered? After vomiting? After being bound for ten hours?" Sean said nothing in response to John's questioning. It was the hardest thing I had ever had to do up until that point, but I made myself climb into the van, and buckle my seat belt.

Sean stepped out of the driver's seat, and Thor stepped in. John moved to the seat next to me, and I looked behind me to see Sean lying down, and almost immediately falling asleep. We must have been driving a long time, and still a long drive ahead of us for them to be switching drivers.

The road stopped switching and twisting almost immediately, and I was embarrassed that the short stretch of switchbacks behind us had made me vomit. Then again, I hadn't eaten in almost a day, hadn't had much water, and had been Tasered into unconsciousness. I decided to cut myself a break. The swaying of the car rocked and lulled my tired body until I was almost falling asleep again. I would start to drift off into the sweet escape of dreamland, where I just might awake to discover that this was just a nightmare, then my body would slip to the side, and I'd be jolted awake by the seatbelt catching me. Kicking my heels off, I finally curled into a half fetal position with one leg tucked underneath me, and I let sleep embrace me with it's deceitful caress.

When I awoke, my perception was skewed. For some reason, the seats in front of me were sideways. There was something soft under my head, and a warm weight was draped over my shoulder, avoiding my hurt ribcage. I was lying with my head in John's lap. My body protested as I bolted upright once I realized the situation I was in. His head was lolled back in sleep, and my sudden movement woke him up. Unlike most men I had known, he didn't awaken slowly with a grumble. His eyes opened immediately, and were clear as he sat up and took in his surroundings, including me. My long hair was rumpled, of course, but what bothered me was my displaced bra, and the fact that my shirt had slid halfway up my torso.

John's voice was clear as he asked, "Adam, how close are we?" The blonde man's name was Adam. John, Adam, and Sean were the men who had abducted me. John seemed to be the one in charge by default, and he probably had the most experience with this sort of thing. Adam seemed to know what he was doing, but deferred to John, either through lack of experience, or he just wasn't an A-type personality. Sean was the odd man out. There was a definite tension between him and John, which seemed somewhat dissipated by Adam. Sean seemed to question any and all judgment calls, and seemed to crave control despite the fact that he wasn't equipped to be in control. There was no way that tension wouldn't come to a head, and I didn't want to be around when it happened.

"About half an hour. Is Sean still sleeping?" Adam sounded irritated, and glanced into the rearview mirror to see John nod. His blue eyes glanced at me, and saw my disheveled state. I glared at him as I blushed, and immediately readjusted my bra and straightened my shirt.

"Think we should wake him up, or let him get bit in the ass?" There was an undercurrent of humor in this question, and I wondered at it.

John smirked as he answered, "Let him get bitten. He could use a wake-up call like that."

The remainder of the drive elapsed in silence, which only made me more anxious. Where had we driven? It was still dark outside, so I couldn't see any scenery that would give me an idea of where we were. We had driven at least fifteen hours, and I had been asleep for much of it, which skewed my sense of time. I slowly lifted the right side of my shirt to examine my ribcage. There were two small burns from the Taser, and the area around them was a deep purple bruise tinged with green around the edge. I'd had enough bruises this color to know that it was about a full day old. Maybe we had been driving for more than fifteen hours.

The clock on the dashboard said nine, and I assumed it was nine in the evening since it was so dark. The headlights swept around a corner, and I saw a massive iron gate attached to granite pillars. Adam stopped the van, and punched a series of digits into a keypad. The opulent gate opened, and he drove through the archway slowly.

The driveway was framed by thick, dark forest on either side, but I couldn't tell if it was hardwood or softwood, evergreen or deciduous. The ground seemed wet, like it had just rained. Were we in a temperate zone? Tropical? Where were we? A small path led off from the driveway, and the van turned onto it.

After another five minutes or so, a small, but impressive building came into view. It could be called a shack, but for the quality of the architecture. It seemed big enough to only contain a few rooms, and almost an entire side of the building had glass windows from ground to ceiling. A small garage, just large enough for the van, was set to the side, and we pulled into it before I could make out any more details from the building.

Adam parked the car, and Sean jerked awake in the back seat, almost rolling out of it as the van came to a stop. He woke up like most men I had known – slowly and with a lot of groaning, or in this case, a yelp. I was too nervous to laugh at the humor of his predicament. Something was finally going to happen, and I had no idea what it was going to be. This small building in the woods didn't seem like our final destination, but I couldn't think of where our final destination might be. Were they taking me out of the country? With how long we had driven, we could be far north, near Canada, or far south, near Mexico. It scared me to think that I had no idea where I was. I was completely at their mercy.

John looked into my eyes as he reminded me, "You remember what happened the last time you tried to run." When I nodded, he said, "I need to hear you answer."

"It's hard to forget what happened when I'll probably have scars from the experience," I snapped at him. He scowled, and I ignored it. He would only have cause to hurt me if I tried to escape. I wanted to, but reason prevailed, and I knew better than to try and run away again. He was probably only scowling because it meant he would be in trouble, anyway.

We all climbed out of the van, and I fell into step behind John. Adam followed me, and Sean took up the rear a few steps back. He still seemed sleepy to me. We left the garage, and cold, humid air took my breath away. It was refreshing, and the moisture felt so good compared to the dry air of Colorado. I must be near the coast. John led us into the building through a small door on the back side of the building, and into a room that almost felt like a doctors office.

A large mirror was set into one wall next to a door, with a small bookshelf and desk on the other side, and a couch on the wall directly across from the door we had just walked through. The room was perfectly square, and the linoleum was made to look like pale wood instead of tile. The walls were painted a soft off-white color, and the lighting was warmer than the fluorescent lights in a doctors office, but there was a certain sterility to the room that made it feel detached from the world, the same way a doctors office was detached.

John and Adam walked to the couch, and sat on the far ends, with plenty of space in the middle between them. I assumed that was where I was supposed to sit, but I was loath to comply with any plans these men had for me. Sean stayed behind me and stood in the doorway, blocking my escape. None of them seemed to pay attention to the other door, so I assumed there was something on the other side that would keep me from leaving. Instead of sitting between my assailants on the couch, I chose to sit at the desk. John started to laugh, then tried to cover it up with a cough, but he fooled no one.

My body felt wired and ready to snap as we waited for I don't know what. They all seemed at ease, especially Sean. He still seemed like he was falling asleep. The click of a door opening made me jump to me feet, and I felt myself half crouch into a defensive stance behind the desk. A trim, wiry man walked in. His hair was peppered with white, despite his youthful face, and his grey eyes were sharp and intelligent. The flannel jacket over his sweater was of a high quality, and his slacks seemed fresh pressed despite the late hour.

"Hello, Anne." I felt myself bristle as he addressed me by name. How dare he have the audacity to address me so casually? How dare he be so friendly? He had to know how I had gotten here. The abrasions on my body and burns in my shirt were clear signs that I hadn't come quietly. He smiled with his eyes as he saw my shoulders tense. I knew it was an impressive sight from the days I spent perfecting my stances in front of a mirror. My thighs may be my strongest feature, but my shoulders and upper back were the most impressive. The muscle was lean and cut, and when my body tensed like it was now, I looked like pure power.

"There's no need to be like that, no one here is going to hurt you. You're safe here, sweetheart." He had opened his hands, palm up, towards me as a placating gesture that only served to incise me more.

"Excuse me?! How dare you try to tell me that no one here is going to hurt me? HE," I gestured violently to Sean, "tried to kidnap me as I was running! HE," I gestured to Adam, "tried to tackle me when I got away! And HE," flinging my arm and John, I felt my voice rise another octave, "invaded my home, assaulted me not one, but twice! And ALL of these FUCKERS have ripped me from my home and everything I know and hold dear! I have every right to 'be like that!' You have no IDEA what this last day has been like for me! How FUCKING DARE YOU tell me that no one here is going to hurt me! Even you're hurting me just by being a part of this! And then you have the fucking balls to call me SWEETHEART?! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

I was shaking when I had started my rant, and by the end, it felt like my blood was boiling. The shaking in my limbs wouldn't stop, and I wanted nothing more than to launch myself at the man staring so calmly at me. My muscles were spazming, and I could feel my ears twitching as I listened to the men seated and standing on either side of me. None of them had become agitated at my rant, and their serenity is what drove home my helplessness. No matter how hard I fought this, I would not win. Not right now. I couldn't fight my way out of this situation; I would have to think my way out. Fuck.

"My name is Brian. I'm sorry you're so upset, but please understand that we're here to help you. My job is to assess the injuries you've accumulated, and provide treatment. These men are here for your own well-being. Without them, you would have been hurt even more." This fucker was trying to make me complacent. He was trying to make me see them in a positive light, and think of them as my saviors instead of my abductors. "There are many other people who would not be so gentle and caring as these men have been. You're fortunate to have met them. They are good men, and would never hurt you."

I filtered out every word he said. There was no way I would be complacent and docile, not with men willing to subject other people to this kind of treatment, and not to a manipulator who wanted me to see the men who hurt me as my saviors. I would not stop fighting, not today.

"Please, Anne, let me make sure you're alright. We want to take care of you." He smiled as he said it, and spoke as he would to a child – comforting and soothing. A part of me wanted to break down and cry and let him take care of me. My head and body hurt more than it ever had before, and I was heartbroken from being ripped from my home and having my premisconceptions about my identity torn down. I wanted to be held and coddled and given a band-aid. I wanted to be cared for and told that everything would be okay. But, if I let myself do that, I knew it would be a lie. Things would not be okay as long as I was a victim of the situation, and Brian seemed determined to play on that mentality.

I am not a victim. This will make me stronger. I refuse to give men like this power over me. They will be my victims, not the other way around. I will tear their premisconceptions from them the same way they have torn mine from me, and I will not let them inflict suffering upon me. I am better than this.

Brian took a step towards me, and I didn't move. Taking a step backwards would be giving him power over my actions, and I refused to let him manipulate me.

"It's okay sweetheart, just let me look at you." He moved slowly and patiently, taking another step towards me, acting like he was cornering a wild animal.

"Are you going to be good and let me help you?" He asked as he stepped even closer and took my face in one of his hands. I didn't move, and I refused to speak, consenting only to glare at him vehemently.

"Don't be like that, baby girl, it's okay. Sean? Would you come help me, please?" My head snapped around to watch Sean move towards me. Why the fuck would Brian ask Sean for help instead of John or Adam? They were more experienced than Sean.

"We're going to take your clothes off now, and you're going to be good and let us, ok sweetie?" Sean grasped my wrists, and held them easily above my head as Brian slid my shirt up my body. Sean grasped the edge with one hand, and pulled it off, keeping my hands above me. Brian slid my heels off of my feet gently, leaving me standing stretched on my tiptoes as he unbuckled my jeans. He had to tug hard to get them off my hips, but once he did they slid off easily. He tugged them from around my feet, and folded them neatly before placing them on the edge of the desk next to my shirt.