Amelia didn't know whether to cry or scream. It had seemed like she'd come so close to being discovered, and then the car had just pulled off. Many hours later she was still shut up in the dark and still on her way to Russia. To add to the discomfort, she needed to pee again.
Like before, she'd tried to count out rough hours. She'd got to nine before she totally mucked up and lost track of where she was. After that she hadn't bothered. She'd pleaded one last time with whoever might be listening to send help and stopped communicating.
If Myron truly was listening she felt sure he'd have rescued her by now. She'd given him the make and model of the car as well as the first part of the registration. It wouldn't be much of a task to narrow down the rest. She doubted there were many blue Ford Focus cars on their way to Russia. It could only mean that she was on her own and needed to make her own way out of this mess.
At first, this thought had overwhelmed her, and for the third time that journey she'd found herself sobbing. When she'd asked Myron to teach her she hadn't expected his work to be so much more dangerous for her than Sebastian's had been. In pursuit of a man she would probably never attain she'd probably signed her own death certificate.
After an hour of wallowing in these sorts of thoughts Amelia pulled herself together. If she was truly alone then this was up to her. Somehow, she needed to use the mind she'd been given or die trying. Most importantly, she couldn't give up.
For most of the journey, she'd been splitting her thoughts between getting information to feed him and keeping herself going. Several times she'd made decisions that gained her information but had painful consequences. It was time to focus solely on getting herself out of here with minimal pain.
She felt tired, but she didn't want to sleep again. To keep awake and prepare her body for a possible chance at escape, Amelia kept fidgeting, trying to get circulation in her legs going again. This made her hot and sweaty, stuffed in such a small space, but it couldn't be helped. Given how cold the air had been the last two times she'd been out in it, she knew she'd be glad for the warmth later.
The one thing she couldn't prepare for when she next got a chance to see some fresh air was her eyesight. She didn't doubt that being in the dark for so long would make it difficult to see. Her only aid might be if it was dark, and given her estimate of time, she thought it would be if they let her out soon.
It felt like a little over a day since they'd last given her a break to pee. Her head hurt as if she were dehydrated. She didn't need to pee as much as she'd expected, but that could also easily be down to dehydration. They hadn't exactly done much to take care of her.
As she thought about all the meals she'd missed she realised some of the pain in her stomach must be due to hunger, not just the beating they'd dealt to her when they'd found her ungagged and able to see. She tried to push the thought of what they might do when they found her like that a second time out of her head. It was bad enough being shut up in a small space; she didn't need to dwell on anything else that scared her.
Whenever she felt her emotions overwhelming her she tried to think of what Myron, Sebastian, or even Tom might do if they were here. It mostly helped. When she remembered they were all strong men, and two of them might even be immortal, she laughed aloud again. The sound was strange to her ears, like she was laughing because she might cry at any moment. It only made her laugh all the more.
A thump on the car seat behind her quietened her down again, and she found herself mentally thanking whoever had done it. She couldn't go crazy. She was meant to be thinking of a way to escape. Not knowing where she was and how far away safety might be posed a problem, even if she could get away from her captors. But, she needed to try. It was down to her.
With this decision firmly held in her mind, Amelia waited for the car to stop again. Thankfully, she didn't seem to wait too long before the car slowed, turned a sharp corner and then ground to a halt.
She took several deep steady breaths as the doors opened and closed in the car. Still, she waited.
Seconds ticked by and she counted them off in her head, breathing in and out every eight. The tenth time she'd done this she heard the sound of boots on gravel nearby and then the lid opened. She caught a glimpse of the stars in the dark night sky and fought off the grin that it was dark enough her eyes weren't blinded. The breeze blew, wafting cold air into the small space and flushing out the heat that had filled it, bringing a few flakes of snow with it. Snow wasn't a good sign.
As soon as they noticed she was untied again there was more angry yelling but she didn't move in the boot. Until she could see exactly where she was and what her options were she wasn't going to give them another reason to hurt her. They argued amongst themselves for a little while, and then she wiggled, bringing the attention back to herself.
After taking a look at her compliant behaviour, one of them grabbed her shoulder and pulled her into a sitting position. He then held a bottle of water out to her. Without uttering a word, she took it and drank it down.
Unlike before, this was warm water, but it refreshed her nonetheless. Water was water. By the time she'd finished it she had several flakes of snow sitting on her coat. Another landed on her face, forcing her to blink.
“I need the toilet,” she said.
“There's not one here,” the nearest Russian replied. He motioned with his arm and she found she was in the middle of a field. There wasn't even another car.
“A bush, then.” She looked pleadingly at him. “I'm desperate.”
It was a lie; she barely needed to go at all, but they didn't need to know that. Her words sparked another flurry of conversation between the men. None of them were looking at her, and it was all the opportunity she needed.
In the blink of an eye her feet were on the ground and propelling her away from the car. She almost tripped as her legs protested at the now strange motion, but even in her heels she managed to keep herself going.
The argument behind her turned to yells of surprise and she knew she had all the lead she was going to get. Up ahead she spotted the lane they must have driven in on, and she ran for it. If she could get back to a main road she stood a chance of flagging down someone who might help her.
When she reached the gap in the gloomy hedges either side of the lane, she pitched forward. The sound of something snapping let her know it was the heel on her shoe that was responsible for it. She slammed into the ground, finding it more solid than a field usually was and ice cold.
A second later one of the men dived on top of her, knocking the air out of her lungs and leaving her gasping. So much for that idea.
Still struggling to breathe, she was hauled to her feet. With her arms pinned behind her back she was at their complete mercy, and they sought to let her know it. The nearest one backhanded her as soon as he was close enough. Her head whipped around, almost smacking into the guy behind her. If he hadn't held her upright, she'd have gone down again.
As she brought her head back around, she tasted blood. Thankfully, it seemed to be coming from her tongue where she'd bitten it and not from her nose. Her cheek throbbed a painful message in time with the headache she had.
“Not much longer, now. We'll show you our famous Russian hospitality.”
They dragged her back to the car. She struggled a little against the man holding her but stopped when it earnt her a second slap.
When they bound her up this time they looped the rope around her neck, feet and hands. She didn't need them to explain that any attempt to get out of these bonds or too much movement would strangle her. She felt her breath hitch as fear dug into the pit of her stomach and she closed her eyes, trying to force it away.
As soon as she was laid down again she went still, fear threatening to overwhelm her long before they slammed the lid on her. Exactly how long was not much longer?