10: Dolores.
733 Words
My breath catches in my chest as I hear the front door open and the sound of boots stepping into the cabin.
“She’s hiding.”
“Find her. And make it quick.”
Their voices are hushed but strong – cold. As though this is just another day at work for them. Which is probably the case.
I hear a set of footsteps in the kitchen and then the sound of Fred’s bedroom door opening.
“Hey,” someone hisses. “In here.”
Their steps converge outside my door, and I know I only have a few seconds before they’re inside. And they’re going to find me. There’s no doubt about that. If my mom could find me hiding under the bed as a child, these men obviously will.
Make it quick…
These aren’t my father’s men here to “rescue me.” These are other men, like Fred, sent here to kill me.
The sound of the door opening sends a shudder through my entire body. I want to gasp but clasp a hand over my mouth to keep myself silent. I know it’s pointless, but the fear takes over, and for the first time in two weeks, I find myself actually feeling something.
“I’m taking you away. I’ll keep it safe, but I’ll make it look like you are dead.”
That’s what Fred told me. Just another one of his lies, I guess. The sadistic f**k just wanted my innocence. He got it, and then he decided to keep me prisoner in order to satisfy some kind of sick, perverted desire that probably gets him hard at night.
He never cared about me. Not one bit. He got what he wanted, and now he’s done with me. I bet he’s happy when he finds me on the floor with a bullet in the head. Just one less thing for him to deal with.
“Little birdy, little birdy,” a man whispers. “Wherever could you be?”
“Come out, little birdy,” another man joins in.
They move around the bed – two on each side. I don’t even hear them check the closet door; it’s obvious where I am.
“Maybe she’s outside?” one suggests, but I can hear the smile in his tone.
“Yeah, you are probably right,” another chuckles. “Wanna go out there and look?”
“Should we check under the bed first?”
“Nah!”
“Really? What if she’s under there?”
“How could she be? Would any grown woman possibly think to hide under the bed? Come on!”
More laughter. “Okay, well I’m just going to check for the hell of it. All right?”
“Okay,” one replies, pretending to be disappointed.
This is it.
I close my eyes and clench my fists, knowing the next thing I’m going to hear is the sound of a bullet going into my skull.
But then a gun goes off. And not in the room either. Outside.
The window shatters. Glass blows in, and one of the men lets out a low grunt before hitting the floor.
“s**t!” someone shouts.
Another shot. Another man drops.
“He’s outside!”
My heart leaps in my chest.
Fred!
The two remaining men sprint from the room, their boots thudding on the floor as more bullets spit in through the window. I hear one impact flesh, and one of the men cries out.
The sound of gunfire rings out through the Fred like thunder. I keep my eyes closed and my hands over my ears until it stops. I wonder if I should get up and take this chance to run. If they got Fred, I may only have a tiny window of time before they come back for me.
Still not looking, I slide carefully out from under the bed. Only when my back is to the room do I open my eyes.
There’s a trail of blood in the living room leading toward the door. I can smell sweat and gunpowder. I sprint outside, straight for the SUV, but just as I’m about to jump in, a strong arm wraps around my waist.
I scream.
“Help! Help me!”
“It’s okay,” Fred whispers into my ear. “It’s me. You’re safe now. You’re safe.”
- Writer
