Body bags in the trash dump

B efore Reva saw her attackers, the wool blanket was pulled back over her head, blinding her, choking her.

She cried out as someone again shoved her hard from behind.

“What do you want? Leave us alone!” she heard Pam scream, her voice shrill.

“Shut up!” a girl snapped in a loud, raspy whisper. “Just shut up—both of you.”

Reva stumbled, but a strong arm grabbed her around the waist and kept her moving.

She heard a car door open. “Put them both in back,” she heard the girl order.

How many were there? Reva wondered.

“What are you going to do to us?” Pam cried.

“I told you to shut up!” the girl cried furiously.

Reva heard a hard thud. Pam cried out in pain.

“Get them in the car. I’ll drive,” the girl said.

“I’ll drive. I’ve got the keys.” A man’s voice. No. A teenager’s voice.

“Just move!” the girl shouted angrily.

“Get in there!” Another man’s voice. The man holding Reva. He shoved her. She stumbled forward, thrusting her arms out to break her fall.

She landed on a car seat. She fell into the car, tangled in the blanket. Her knee bumped the car floor.

She could hear Pam struggling behind her. Another thud, the sound of a fist landing a hard blow.

“Move!”

“Let us go! You can’t get away with this!” Reva heard Pam cry.

And then Pam was shoved in next to her. Reva could feel her trembling body.

Reva heard Pam sob. “Not again! Please—not again! Let me go!”

Then there was a flurry of movement.

Someone opened the car door next to Reva. Someone pulled the blanket off her head. Reva got a glimpse of a pudgy-faced, dark-eyed man in a denim jacket.

A glimpse. Then everything was dark again as a scarf was tied around her eyes.

She wanted to resist, to fight, to make it tough for them. But there was no room to struggle. And her fear made her muscles weak. She could barely raise her arms.

Reva’s hands were pulled roughly behind her back. Then they were tied with some kind of cord. “Ow—no!” She cried out as the cord cut into her wrists.

Her cry was ignored.

The car door slammed shut.

She could still feel Pam’s trembling body beside her.

“Reva—are you okay?” Pam whispered.

“Shut up! Shut up!” the girl rasped from the driver’s seat. “Hurry up, Pres!”

“Hey—no names!” the boy shouted angrily.

Pres? One of them was named Pres?

Reva figured there were three of them. The woman, the pudgy-faced man who had pushed her into the car, and the teenage boy. The one named Pres.

She heard a front door slam.

The car engine roared. The car shot forward, throwing Reva back against the seat.

“Sit back and enjoy the ride,” the man said. Reva could tell he was sitting next to Pam.

“You can’t do this!” Pam cried in a weak, trembling voice.

Reva remained silent. Staring into the blackness behind the blindfold. She realized she was too frightened to speak.

She coughed. Started to choke. Her throat felt tight and dry.

“Stop coughing, Reva!” the girl snapped from the front seat.

She knows my name, Reva thought. A cold chill ran down her back.

They know my name. They’ve planned this. They’ve been sitting somewhere, planning this, talking about me.

Reva had read about kidnappings. She had seen movies about them on TV.

But the movies never showed the real fear, she thought, feeling her whole body convulse in a shudder.

The movies never showed the darkness. Never showed the panic that choked you, that made you gasp, that made your temples throb.

The movies never showed the horror of being helpless, of being at the mercy of someone who wanted to harm you.

To hurt you. To kill you, maybe.

Someone who knew your name...

This is what Pam went through, Reva realized. This is the fear Pam felt.

And now it is happening all over again to her.

Why? Because of me?

If they wanted to kidnap me, why did they take Pam again?

The answer came to Reva at once. They think they can get more money if they have both of us.

They’re probably right, Reva realized.

Daddy will gladly pay them whatever they want.

And then what?

The question flashed uninvited into her mind.

And then what?

Reva didn’t want to think about that question.

What will they do to Pam and me once Daddy has paid them? Will they return us to our homes? Will they simply dump us out on my driveway the way they did the first time?

Reva had seen the movies. She’d seen the news stories on TV about kidnappings.

Sometimes they let you go home. Sometimes they took the money and let you go.

But sometimes they didn’t. Sometimes they... killed you.

Killed you and hid your body where the police wouldn’t find it until it was rotted.

Took the money and killed you anyway. And dropped your body in a river or in some filthy trash dump. And then when they showed you on TV, you were zipped into one of those long plastic body bags. Wrapped up like garbage. And—and—

Stop! Reva ordered herself. Stop thinking such horrible things!

You’ll be okay. Daddy will pay. They’ll let you go.

Think positive.

They already let Pam go once—right?

The car squealed as it made a hard turn around a corner. Then it shot forward with a roar.

Reva realized she’d been holding her breath. She let it out slowly, trying to stop her body from trembling, trying to keep the frightening thoughts, the ugly pictures, from invading her mind.

“Merry Christmas to us!” the boy in the front seat exclaimed suddenly. He let out a high-pitched, gleeful cheer.

“Whoa. Don’t start celebrating now,” the girl replied from the driver’s seat. “We don’t have the money yet, remember?”

The boy let out another cheer. “Merry Christmas, one and all!”

The car turned another corner. Reva felt Pam thrown against her.

“Hey, you’re being awful quiet,” the boy called back to the man squeezed on the other side of Pam.

“I got hit in the mouth,” the man muttered glumly.

“Who hit you?” the boy asked.

“The redhead. You know. Reva,” the man rasped angrily. “She got me with her elbow when I was taking her to the car.”

Reva heard the boy snicker.

“It isn’t funny, Pres,” the man snapped furiously, forgetting about not using names. “She split my lip. It’s bleeding like crazy.”

Good, Reva thought.

“It brought my headache back,” the man grumbled. “Real bad.”

“You’ll be okay,” the girl said without any sympathy. “You won’t have your headaches when you’re rich. I’ll make you a bet.”

“I just want to kill her,” the man fumed, ignoring the girl’s words.

“Hey, come on, man. Sit back and relax,” Pres said. “We’re almost there.”

“I want to kill her. I really do,” the man insisted calmly. His words were slightly slurred. Reva guessed it was because of the split lip she had given him.

“Well... maybe you’ll get your chance,” the boy replied casually.

Дата добавления: 2015-07-20