They took me to the marina.
I stepped out of the car, an iron grip on my arm. Another man took my other arm. There was no way I could break free.
They marched me down the pier. It was that dead period of the day when people were either already inside or still in their cars. There was no one I could appeal to for help.
My struggles were useless. The men holding my arms just lifted me off the ground so that I flailed awkwardly. They carried me onto a small open boat and shoved me inside a cupboard.
An engine nearby started up, and the rocking motion of the boat changed to steady movement.
Thoughts of what they intended to do to me were too horrifying. I feverishly reviewed my calculus instead, clinging to the weird security of numbers.
The boat stopped twice, pulling me from a restless doze. The stuffy air in the cupboard made me groggy. I had to go pee badly, but they ignored my pounding on the cupboard door.
The third time the boat stopped, hours later, they let me out. I sucked in the fresh air, my head clearing.
It was dark outside. Dark dark, no streetlights anywhere. No building lights. Maybe no buildings at all. Everything was as dark as though a paper bag covered my head.
Water lapped against the side of the boat. The men’s movements as they carried me off the boat were uncannily quiet, a little splashing of water but no footsteps, no grunts at hefting my not-small body.
“I have to pee,” I begged.
It was totally humiliating to pull down my clammy swimsuit and squat while they stood within arm’s reach, but the relief of emptying my bladder was worth it. They seemed completely uninterested in my body. Maybe they didn’t like curvy girls. If so, I’d eat a Twinkie a day as an offering to the fat gods.
I barely had my swimsuit up and the halter tied before they carried me farther inland. I could tell the difference now between the black shapes of trees and the almost-black shape of air. Once we passed through a gap between trees, and I saw a dusting of starlight overhead.
We came to a darker triangular shape. They dropped me to my feet and shoved me inside. It was even darker inside, but one of them followed me in and rummaged through stuff. Something cold and rigid wrapped around my wrist. It tightened, the soft ratcheting of a zip tie loud in my ears. Another zip tie went around my ankle. A chain rattled, and a weight pulled against my arm and leg. Then I felt the man’s absence.
I was alone.
Taking tentative steps, I explored the darkness. The chain dragged with my movement. I bumped into stacks of boxes. Multiple stacks of cardboard boxes. On one stack there was something that clinked when I bumped into it. I put my hand out to feel what it was. My fingers landed in a puddle of some liquid that burned my skin. I hastily wiped my hand on my shorts.
I found a cot. Gratefully I sank down on it. It smelled like dog, but I didn’t care. Curling up, I waited for the night to end.
I awoke to dimness that gradually brightened until I could make out the boxes I’d run into. The white cardboard was printed with blue letters and a vaguely medical logo. The source of the clanking was a measuring cup. I shuddered when I saw the saucer of liquid I’d put my hand in earlier. A syringe was lying in it, the needle exposed.
The zip ties around my wrist and ankle looped through metal chain links that dug into my skin. The chain wrapped around an aluminum tent pole at the back of the tent.
If I pulled the tent pole out of the ground, I’d be free. I’d still be wearing the chain, but it was a light chain, the kind people used for dog runs.
I was pushing against the tent pole when a man ducked inside the tent. He was shirtless and barefoot, the button of his jeans undone. Stiffening, I pretended to be clinging to the pole for my balance, and he seemed to believe it. Or maybe he just didn’t care what I was doing.
He went straight to the syringe, filled it with the pinkish liquid in the saucer, and injected it in a vein of his forearm.
I watched with my mouth hanging open. That liquid had been sitting in the open, and he put it in his vein using a dirty needle? I wasn’t even studying premed, and I knew better than that.
Without saying a word or even looking at me, he left the tent.
Although I tried to look out the opening to see where he went, my chain didn’t reach that far.
Maybe it was just as well. I didn’t hear any voices outside, but there were strange growls and some really weird snapping, crunching noises.
Weird: that word summed up my experience so far.
I was scared, of course. Absolutely petrified. No one knew where I was or who took me. Mama—I sniffled a little. When I left yesterday morning I was running late for class and didn’t even give Mama a hug before leaving.
But I was going to escape. These men acted like a bunch of tweakers, paranoid but dumb. If I could avoid arousing their suspicions, I’d find a way. Never give up, Daddy always told us.
I won’t, Daddy, I promised. I will escape.