For several seconds her heart pounded in her ears while she was certain she was about to suffocate. Breathing through her nostrils didn’t seem to bring in enough oxygen. Tears started behind her blindfold.
She fought the sudden roll of her stomach. If she were sick, she knew she’d choke to death.
You’re alive. You’re alive, Carly Harrington-Reese. Live. Live. Live.
The words rang clearly if silently in her head. If someone—Cody?—had wanted her dead, she wouldn’t be breathing. Someone had left her alive. Her job? Stay alive.
She lay on the floor so long she couldn’t guess how much time passed before the roaring in her ears ceased. Gradually her senses came back. She smelled old wood and dust and the faint musk of a dead animal. Beneath her cheek there was a fine silt of grime. She was inside. In a place that hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. No point in imagining what shared the darkness with her.
A sneeze wracked her body, bending her in on herself. Oh please Oh please. No more sneezes. Her nose would fill and then she’d be choking again.
She held her breath. It worked for hiccups. She didn’t know about sneezes. But she had few options. Seconds passed. No more sneezes.
After a few moments more, she realized she wasn’t injured. She could flex her fingers. Wiggle her toes. Bend her knees toward her chest. Move her head from side to side. She needed to sit. Sitting would make her feel better than lying there like a sack of bagged potatoes.
It took a little maneuvering. But she’d always been flexible. Once on her back, she was able to do an awkward sit-up. Using her heels, she pushed herself backward until she came up against the object she’d fallen off of. Cold metal pressed across her back and upper arms. Above the metal lay something soft. A quilt? She remembered now the squeal of springs as she’d fallen. A cot frame?
She leaned her head back against it to rest. Figuring out how to untie herself was going to take time. A thrill of fear fluttered through her dodgy stomach. How much time did she have? Was Cody coming back? Or had he abandoned her? Abandonment was preferable. With time, she would get loose. She absolutely believed it.
She ignored the icy feel of the room. It wasn’t a cold night. But her fingers tingled from a lack of blood flow in them. She flexed them over and over, forcing blood through her veins. Then she did the same with her feet, then pushed and pulled her knees back and forth on the floor until she was breathing a bit hard. Now what?
Get your mouth clear, Carly.
In her struggle to sit, she realized that whatever was taped over her mouth had become gummy from the heat of her breath. It moved now as she strained to open her mouth. She vaguely remembered hearing something about being able to eat duct tape off one’s face. A trick at a party? Or a YouTube video? Her head was full of so many semi-useless things.
She pushed her tongue between her lips and tried to stretch her mouth. It hurt as the tape pulled at the sensitive skin of her lips and cheeks. But doing something felt better than doing nothing. She pulled her mouth wide again and again, each time pushing with her tongue until, little miracle, a side came loose. She tried to rub her mouth on her shoulder but didn’t get much friction because of her arms being tied behind her.
Patience, Carly. It’s working.
After another minute she had an end in her mouth and she chewed frantically, until she was panting. She paused to just breathe. She wasn’t a mouth breather but not being able to have the alternative had horrified her. After several deep slow breaths, she went back to work, finally chewing it all off.
Uncovering her eyes wasn’t going to be that easy. She realized as she worked the tape over her mouth that her eyes were sticky, too. And that when she moved her head, it felt wrapped all the way around by a tight band. No way was duct tape going to come out of her hair with a struggle. That thought revved her anxiety.
“You did good, Carly. Don’t crap out on yourself now.”
Her voice! The sound of it was the most heartening thing so far. Talking to herself was soothing.
“Think, girl. What next?”
Sounds of a distant vehicle snagged her attention. Not hard to hear in darkness without sounds. Except there were some. Scratchings at the baseboards and just outside that she’d refused to acknowledge. The faint bark of a hound. But not engines. No appliances humming, like a refrigerator. Nothing moving in her space, until now. The truck was coming closer.
The irrational thumping of her heart was as foolish as the hope her blindfold and bindings would suddenly dissolve. Anyone coming here probably wasn’t anyone she wanted to see.
The panic she’d been pushing away came back roaring louder than the truck engine sounding much closer. She was at the mercy of whoever drove that truck. Only crazy people abducted other people. Crazy men abducted women for horrible reasons.