Car Ride

The trunk’s lid slammed, forcing me to yank my head down, and I screamed. Well, I tried to at least, but the musty gag shoved to the back of my mouth held in every bit of the sound, swirling it around into a ferocious panic as it reverberated through the bones of my head.

All around me the air was nothing but black. A black so thick I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. My hands were actually taped together behind my back, stopping me from testing my theory, but I knew it to be true anyway. The black was so thick I could feel it wrapping its fuzzy arms around me, making bile rise up into the back of my throat.

The echo of my screams faded, replaced by the thudding boom of my heart as it pounded painfully against my ribs. The sound was so loud I imagined it could be heard from the outside of the car. If only it was someone besides my captor standing there listening.

I had never been known to panic before. In fact, I’ve been invited onto more than one zombie apocalypse team simply because of my ability to think clearly in tough situations. All that vanished like a puff of smoke the second the giant of a man stepped from behind his car, parked next to mine, in the darkened corner of the lot. Even before he grabbed me my mind knew what was about to happen. Faced with fight, flight or freeze my body had chosen to freeze. For the first time, at the worst time, I had panicked.

When I did eventually manage to put up something of a fight, wiggling and thrashing like some desperate fish suspended over the water, it was nothing more than embarrassing. The man had my mouth sealed, my hands and ankles duct taped, and my cheeks bruising from his punches faster than I would have believed possible. In all the times I had imagined a scenario like this I had never given my attacker enough credit, it seemed. The struggle was over so fast I don’t think I even managed to scrape together any skin cells under my nails to use against him later in court. 

Jostling around as the car bounced through the potholes and rutted pavement of the parking lot I was confronted with a dark thought…worrying about facing him later in court might be a really big assumption. First, I’d have to live through whatever he had planned for me.

I wanted to live. I wanted to see my family again. Most of all, I didn’t want them to have to endure the grief of losing me. The not knowing where I was until they found my body, if they ever did find it, and then the graphic details that were sure to emerge about what he had done to me before disposing of my body. I wanted to spare them all of that and to do so I had to live.

The man behind the wheel took a corner too fast, tires letting out a squeal as the car rocked to the left. With no way to stop myself I slid to the edge of my tiny metal prison, hitting the back of my head and the top of my twisted shoulder against something pointy and unforgiving. The air in my lungs grunted through my nose with such pressure my eyes burned. 

The sharp-edged thing pressing into my back gave me inspiration and my fingers began to sweep. It was slow going, but with tiny circles I searched the floor of the trunk. I scooted, and I inched along like a worm, all to rub my raw fingertips along every bit of the rough carpet in the hopes of finding some discarded item that I could use. A tool.

Sweat dripped into my eyes and my shoulders ached but I found nothing. Not a single forgotten thing that I could use. With my chest heaving, I screamed again. Not in fear this time, but with frustration. I kicked the trunk’s lid with my bound feet and my guttural cry changed to one of pain as my big toe bent awkwardly, snapping with a burst of agony. 

Gasping and sobbing I collapsed on my back. Slowly my breathing settled and my sobs turned to simple tears. Slowly my panic turned to anger. Beautiful, helpful, useful anger. Once planted, the seed grew like a weed, snaking its way from my belly through my veins and bringing a resolve that stilled me inside. 

The answer hit me with force. The emergency trunk release. Every car had one. Well, not the older cars, but this car wasn’t that old. I closed my eyes, unnecessary in the pitch black but I did it anyway, and visualized the little plastic handle that would grant me freedom. I pictured it centered in the trunk’s lid, probably barely dangling, attached to a cord that would pop the trunk’s lock. I squirmed along the carpeted floor until I was where I assumed it would be, only banging my head once, then took a second to think out my plan. 

Once the trunk was open then what would I do? My hands and feet were bound so it wasn’t like I was going to run anywhere. If the car was moving and I bailed out I would most likely end up getting run over by the car behind us. On the other hand, if I popped the trunk only a bit and waited until we came to a stop then I might be able to flag someone down. 

I needed something to signal with. I arched my back, contorting well beyond what I thought possible, until I had managed to slip each of my shoes off. Fresh tears trickled down my face as my right shoe shifted the sharp ends of my broken toe but I didn’t let it stop me. Not with freedom so close.

Hard as I tried I couldn’t reach the stupid latch. With my hands bound behind me there just wasn’t any leverage. I had no way to get up from the floor so the measly few inches of dead air above me may as well have been a mile.

Despair threatened, heavy on my chest, but I fought it. I had come up with one good idea and I was sure I could do it again. As the car began to slow, brakes grinding in the quiet night, inspiration struck.

Carefully I twisted, bucking my hips and sliding my shoulders until I was lined up exactly where I wanted to be. Gently I probed with my left foot, now wishing my shoes were still on my feet. I found what I was looking for, sucked in a breath and kicked out as hard as I could, broken toe be damned. The plastic gave, satisfying crunches letting me know I had done damage, but the light didn’t fall out. Despite the throbbing of my toe I kicked again. 

Moving faster than I ever had before I brought my face to the hole I had created. Through the hazy light of the street lights, gloomy in the creeping fog, I saw the most beautiful sight. A black SUV with a light bar on its roof was just out of reach. I scrambled once again, searching for my discarded shoes, then quickly dropped them one by one through the hole. 

Another sob filled the trunk, this one pure joy, as the siren and flashing lights filled my tiny world.