Fighting her way back to consciousness, Jennifer felt movement beneath her. Her head hurt, pins and needles flashed through arm. It was pitch black. Her heart pounded with fear. She tried to open her mouth but it seemed to be stuck. Lying on her side hurt, so she attempted to roll over and straighten out. It took her a few seconds to realize her hands were taped behind her and her mouth sealed shut. Her feet were stuck together too.
I need air! I can’t breathe!
Wave upon wave of panic swept over her until she was lightheaded.
Calm down, Jennifer. Calm yourself down.
Haney’s instructions, what were they? “Use your brain. Use your instincts. Get away from your attacker.”
Struggling to slow down her breathing, she took stock of her surroundings. She didn’t hear traffic noises and guessed they were on a highway, the movement of the vehicle was smooth. There was room to move, but she couldn’t straighten out completely. She felt rough fabric on her face but the surface was hard underneath.
I’m in a car. A trunk. You read about this. You know what to do. I need to get this tape off my mouth. She finally put her jumbled thoughts into order. Jennifer rubbed her cheek against the fabric below her over and over, trying to get it off. It didn’t work.
I can’t do it. I had only two sessions of self-defence training. I don’t know enough. Her panic threatened to take over once again as her heart smashed about her ribcage and her breathing increased.
Start again, she commanded. Maybe there’s something around me I can use. If I can free my hands, I can free my feet and mouth. She struggled to search her environment. As she attempted to roll over she saw the glow from the trunk release latch. If she could free her hands and feet she could get out.
Moving her feet towards the front of the car she felt a hard object, like a stick. Trying not to make any noise she slowly worked the object toward her. It seemed to take forever. The slight jostling from the steady movement of the vehicle made it more difficult.
When she’d moved it closer, she rolled onto her side and used her fingers to pull it over. It was hard to hold, but she persisted. Sweat beaded her forehead and dripped into her eye. She blinked it clear.
A tire iron. I found a tire iron.
Tears of relief sprang to her eyes.
Please God, give me enough time to free myself. Please help me get away.
Is there ever a right time to die? she asked herself as she rested from her efforts. No guarantee of tomorrow for any of us. When she got up this morning, did she think this would be her last day on earth? The thought never crossed her mind. Now it was all she could think about.
Jennifer relaxed her body and feel the tension ease. I may not want to die but it could happen. Marcia would take Grimsby. Anne would miss her the most. Her parents would too, especially her mother. I didn’t even tell Mom and Dad about buying Williams. I didn’t think they’d care. Maybe I need to reach out to them. I’ve been so wrapped up in my life I ignored them. I have to call them.
She worked her fingers until she reached the end of the tire iron. It was curved. Perfect, she thought as she struggled to bring her hands under her, and slip her legs through. Repeated attempts were unsuccessful. She lay back and concentrated on thinking something positive. For a brief second she had an olfactory deja vu scent of lavender and it helped calm her.
I am just wasting energy? The end of the tire iron is sharp; if I work at freeing my feet then maybe I can slip my arms through.
She tried over and over to use the end of the tire iron to slice the tape, but to no avail. The tire iron wasn’t anchored and slipped away constantly.
Tears of frustration sprang to her eyes. There has to be a way! she yelled in her mind. Something brushed up against her right hand and startled her. She pulled her right hand up. The tape seemed looser. Maybe I can wiggle out of it.
After a difficult struggle, she pulled her hand free. In her excitement, she swung her hand around to the front of her body, cracking her knuckles against the roof of the trunk. She froze, the pain shooting through her hand. Blood dripped over her wrist.
Damn, she thought. That was stupid.
Jennifer pushed her right hand underneath her body to apply pressure to the wound and used her left hand to free her mouth and feet, gritting her teeth against the pain. She took the pieces of tape and felt for the spaces at the edge of the trunk, tucking them away. The piece she’d pulled off her mouth she put in her pocket. If I do get out safely it could be evidence, she thought. At least that’s how it would work in a perfect world.
Now all I have to do is wait until the car stops. That could be a while.
She closed her eyes and breathed a prayer of thanks. Her phone was in her pocket but she was afraid to pull it out.
Maybe if I shield it with my body I won’t attract any attention.
She reached into her pocket with her good hand, retrieved the phone, and turned it on. The brightness causing her to close her eyes before she opened them slowly, to adjust to the glare. It was 2:35 a.m. There was one bar of service. She slipped the phone back into her pocket and lay on her back.
I can call 911 without service.
She pulled out her phone again, turned the volume down low and dialed 911. Nothing. No cell phone providers were close enough.
Time dragged on. She was exhausted and felt drugged and wanted to sleep but was afraid she’d miss her opportunity to escape. The car slowed and she was aware it had turned. It stopped. She heard muffled voices. Then clearly heard someone say, thank you, have a great night. The car started moving.
Travis.
She reached for the tire iron. She couldn’t find it. Stay calm, she told herself as the beating of her heart threatened to deafen her.
Get out first, then grab the tire iron and run.
But the car accelerated. She’d missed her chance. Her heart sank and tears stung her eyes. Her hand throbbed. She touched it gently; the bleeding had stopped but it was swollen, crusted and sore.
A few minutes later the car slowed again and jostled as Travis pulled over to the side of the highway. Every muscle in her body tensed as the car decelerated to a stop. Jennifer waited for him to get out of the car, but she didn’t hear the car door open. He didn’t move. Remembering Haney’s words, she didn’t hesitate and reached for the trunk release.
The trunk popped open. Jennifer scrambled out and saw the wayward tire iron in the dim glow of the trunk light. Grabbing it she swung it hard into one of the tail lights, smashing the plastic cover. Travis launched from the car as soon as the trunk opened. The door swung open.
In her panic, Jennifer ran towards the woods, grateful she had flat shoes on. Stumbling through a ditch in the darkness, she ran blindly forward, barely able to make out the shapes of the trees and bushes.
What am I doing? This isn’t an escape. There’s nowhere to go. I can’t stay on the road; he has a car. He could run me down. He can run faster than me. I have to find a place to hide.’
In the quiet of the woods every twig snap ricocheted like a firecracker. She quickly realized that running in the woods in the dark was foolish and stupid. But she could hear Travis behind her.
Jennifer looked around and saw the outline of a small clearing to her right. She eased herself over the embankment gently. Her feet found solid ground, a rock. She crouched down and felt her way along. The rock sloped to her left. It was rough and had a familiar texture. Lichens. She took a deep breath and recognized the smell of moss and pine trees. She knew where she was: the Canadian Shield.
She was up north where she grew up, where she’d played in the woods with her twin and her friends. Had hiked and camped and canoed. It was not a safe place to be at night without light or fire. Travis wasn’t the only danger. Bears and cougars were a very real threat.
Travis had stopped following her. She sat on the rock and tried to look back through the trees. She heard the car door slam.
Could he be leaving?
Light pierced the darkness and started toward her.
He’s coming back—with a flashlight.
Jennifer worked her way down the rock until she was at the edge of a drop-off. She grabbed her phone, using its flashlight to see how far down the drop went then turned off the light and pocketed it.
Only a few feet down.
She slid off, landing on smaller stones that had broken free of the granite. She crouched down, still holding the tire iron in her right hand. To her left she could feel a rock, a larger piece of the granite. She propped the tire iron up against the little wall and reached for the rock piece. Travis was closing in, the light sweeping back and forth above her head. Grasping the rock firmly with both hands she waited, trembling.
“Jennifer,” Travis said calmly. “You can’t get away from me.” The light swung over the top of the rock. He stood above her, just inches from the edge. The light shone in her eyes.
“There you are. GET UP!”
She stood, her fear and adrenaline giving her a strength she didn’t know she possessed. With all she had in her, she lifted the rock and smashed it onto Travis’ foot.
He shrieked. The flashlight flew from his hand. She watched it land and start rolling down the rock. The pain caused Travis to shift his weight and he lost his balance, tumbling down the slope of the rock and crashing off the side. Jennifer grabbed the tire iron, more frightened than she’d been in her life. She scrambled up to the flat part of the embankment and ran back to the highway, ignoring the branches and twigs tearing at her.
Breaking free of the trees, she ran to the car and tried to yank open the driver’s side door. It was locked. Her breath came in ragged gasps. She was spent and shaking.
She swung the tire iron at the window. It bounced off. She swung again and it cracked. The third time it broke. She reached inside, unlocked the door and opened it. The keys were gone. She yanked the hood release.
Only then did she hear Travis yelling at her from the woods, demanding that she come back and help. Ignored him, she exited the car, raised the hood, and using the tire iron pulled as many wires loose as she could. She smashed the headlights. She walked back to the driver’s side door. A sandwich rested on the seat, coffee in the cup holder. She picked them up.
Peter, she thought. Peter suffered the same injury when the casket had fallen on him. Travis could crawl back to the car but he couldn’t drive it now. Slamming the door, she continued to ignore Travis’ yells for help and, against her better judgment, took the food and drink and tire iron.
Jennifer looked up and down the dark highway and started walking down the middle in the direction the car was pointing. Her instincts told her not to go back they way they’d come.
She could barely see where she was going. It wasn’t as black as it had been in the trunk; she could see faint outlines of the road and the trees. She also realized she was asking for trouble. A bear could smell the food. A cougar could sneak up behind her and she’d never know what hit her.
But her fear of Travis drove her forward. She ate the sandwich hungrily and drank the lukewarm coffee, thinking it was close to the best she’d ever tasted.
A rage and hatred she’d never possessed before grew inside her.
I could kill him! Why didn’t I?
Immediately she regretted the thought, but it stayed with her. She wanted to hurt him so he could never hurt her again.
Jennifer kept walking. On and on she trudged until her feet, blistered and burning, forced her to stop. She shivered uncontrollably—cold, shock, rage ...
She could be miles from a hamlet or village. The only signs she’d noticed were billboards and they were too far off the road to risk trying to read in the dark. The smell of pine trees lingered as a constant reminder of how isolated the north could be. She had no idea where she was.
Jennifer pulled her phone from her pocket. No bars. It was nearly 5 a.m. She heard a noise to her right; a crashing sound of branches snapping. Something heavy and large was in the forest. She froze and tightened her grip on the tire iron, her suit jacket flapping behind her at a sudden gust. Her tangled hair whipped her face. She was no match for a bear and got ready to yell if it came close, hoping to scare it off.
The creature emerged from the edge of the trees. Jennifer stiffened and ground her back teeth. She could barely make out the outline of a loping, towering moose. She almost laughed with relief. But the moose, if it felt threatened, could be one of the more dangerous creatures one might encounter. She had no intention of tangling with it and she was more than willing to get out of its way.
Dialing 911 again produced no results. She put her phone back into her pocket and continued down the black road, fumbling with the buttons on her blazer then giving up and just wrapping the cloth and her arms around her, exhaustion mounting.
She had been walking for hours upon hours. Not one car appeared. The night was brisk but warm enough that the flying insects drove her insane, constantly buzzing and biting. She pushed forward until she once again was forced to stop to rest. Her feet bled and she was close to collapsing. She needed a drink and longed for a cup of tea.
Standing in the middle of the deserted road Jennifer wasn’t sure what to do. She just wanted to sit down and rest. She shook her head, pulled off her shoes and kept moving forward in her bare feet. The cold asphalt a balm to her twisted flesh.
After an indeterminate amount of time a distant sound penetrated her consciousness—the rumble of a truck somewhere behind her. It felt like forever before she saw the lights of the big rig. She dropped her shoes and the tire iron and stood on the yellow line in the middle of the highway waving her arms. Tears streamed over her cheeks, lacing her lips with their salty wetness and coating her neck.
The truck driver saw her with plenty of time to stop. As the brakes screeched and the door opened she looked at the silhouette of a burly man who jumped out and ran towards her.
“Miss, Miss, are you OK?” he asked when he reached her. Jennifer nodded, tears running down her face.
“Can you. Get. Me to. The closest. Police station?” she forced the words from her mouth, past her ragged breathing.
“Were you in that car back down the road, the one the smashed-up window and lights?” asked the driver as he took her arm and walked toward the rig.
“Yes.” They had reached the cab of the truck. Jennifer looked up. The door handle was several feet above her head.
“I can’t,” she whispered, defeat in her voice. “It’s too high.”
“I can.” He ran around to the driver’s side, jumped up, opened the passenger door and reached down.
“I got you,” he said gently. “Grab my wrists.” Jennifer reached up and felt herself being lifted into the cab and to safety. The smell of diesel was like nectar; the truck cab a safe haven.
“That car was nearly twenty kilometers back.” The truck lurched forward. “You mean to tell me you walked all this way?”
“Didn’t know what to do,” said Jennifer. She drew a shaky breath. “I grew up in the north. Walking at night is foolish and dangerous, but not as dangerous as the guy in the car. He kidnapped me.”
“I didn’t see anyone when I drove by. Didn’t stop though, just radioed it in. Hey, are you the girl who was kidnapped down south? It’s all over the news.”
“Possibly. I live down south and yes, I was kidnapped.”
The driver reached for the radio. “We’re quite a few miles from the OPP station.” He paused before making the call. “I’m Mack, by the way.”
Jennifer managed a little smile at the cliché name. “Jennifer. Thanks for saving me.”
As the sky brightened into soft pinks and yellows with the rising sun, Mack pulled the rig into the OPP station, hopped out and lifted her down. Two men, a paramedic and an officer, walked out to meet her. The paramedic gently wrapped an emergency rescue blanket around her. Mack turned to leave.
“Mack, wait!” Jennifer cried. “Wait! I need to contact you. What’s your number?”
She pulled out her phone, which now had full bars, and took Mack’s phone number. She’d do her best to make sure that he got the recognition he deserved. He’d saved her life after all.
She hugged the burly man, who gently hugged back. Only then did she allow the paramedic to lead her into the safety of the station.