“You’re insane.”
“Sometimes I wonder.” Getting enough oxygen into her lungs proved impossible. She all but panted—and still felt light-headed. “Don’t move. I will seriously fry you if you do.” The Taser had a fifteen-foot range, but in the small confines of the motel room, she was far closer than that.
Too close.
Without looking away from the man, she asked, “What’s your name?”
“Hickson.”
Alice shook her head. “No, not you. I don’t care about you.” She tipped her head toward the girl. “I meant her.”
Hickson snarled. “She’s not your concern.”
Alice wanted to shoot him. Bad. “I’m making her my concern.”
The girl fought back tears. “Ch-Cheryl.”
“What’s wrong with your arm, Cheryl?”
“T-t-tattoo.”
Disgusted, Hickson said, “Stop that goddamned stuttering!”
Alice scowled, and when the girl stammered again, saying, “S-sorry,” she lost her fragile grasp on control.
Heartbeat thundering in her ears, she whispered, “I don’t like you.” And with that, Alice pulled the trigger.
Teeth clenched and muscles bunched, Hickson gave a guttural scream of agony. His body went rigid, bowing hard as an incapacitating pulse overrode his motor functions, robbing him of any threat. It went on and on—because Alice continued to squeeze the trigger. His knees gave out, and he collapsed to the floor. Alice glanced at Cheryl. The girl covered her ears and sank to her haunches, her eyes squeezed shut.
Seeing that put her on autopilot.
Using her left hand, Alice retrieved the restraints from her purse.
The second she let up on the Taser, she was on Hickson, using the nylon straps to bind his arms behind his back. She leaped away just as quickly.
Cheryl whimpered.
Sympathy for the girl tore at Alice. She wanted to bludgeon Hickson over the head, but if she did, she might accidentally kill him, and what would Reese think about that?
Having a man in her life was proving problematic already. But she couldn’t think about that now.
Her Taser allowed her to shoot three times, thirty seconds each. She had to hurry or odds of them walking away would diminish.
She didn’t know the circumstances here, but she recognized Cheryl as a victim, Hickson as a creep. He could have a cohort or a buyer due to show up any minute. She just didn’t know.
On a slow breath, keeping that Taser steady on Hickson, she withdrew another nylon restraint from her purse. “Cheryl, calm down.”
“Oh, God, oh, God!”
“I can’t get you out of here if you don’t help.”
That got her attention. She sniffled, wiped her nose with a shaking hand. With wretched uncertainty, she asked, “Get me out? To go wh-where?”
“Away from here.” After that...well, she’d have to figure it out.
Hickson groaned, so Alice zapped him again.
His body flopped, jerked.
She let up and watched him slump boneless to the floor. Cheryl wasn’t helping much, so she’d have to rely on herself. She went back to Hickson, this time tightening the nylon around his ankles, under his pant legs. Luckily he didn’t wear boots; she was able to get them really tight.
When she finished, she tossed a nylon tie to the poor girl still slumped on the floor, now wide-eyed with confusion. “Cheryl, I need you to attach his ankles to that pipe.”
Cheryl tripped toward a protruding pipe.
“No, the other one.” Alice watched her. “The wet, moldy, dripping pipe.”
“Are you a...a cop?” Cheryl asked while looping the nylon through the ankle restraints and around the pipe. There was barely enough room.
“No, sorry.”
Cheryl hesitated. “Are you working for someone else?”
“I’m self-employed.” Her attention on Hickson, Alice watched, ready if he moved a single muscle...
All he did was moan.
Cheryl threw herself away from him, doing a crab crawl backward until she ended up in the middle of the disgusting mattress, her knees pulled up, her arms around her shins.
Hickson was completely immobilized, far enough away from the door that he wouldn’t be able to reach it. And cuffed to the pipe that way, he’d have a hard time sitting up.
Alice decided she would leave him there until she formulated a plan. On the desk was a phone, some change, a slip of paper with a number. Alice gathered it all up. “Does he have a wallet?”
“I don’t know.”
Alice had no intention of getting close to him again. “All right. Come with me, please. Quickly.”
Hickson groaned again as they sidled out of the room, being sure to stay out of his reach. At the door, Alice peeked out, replaced the Taser in her purse and motioned for Cheryl to follow.
As she hustled past the truck, she paused, then decided to take a risk. “Wait.” She dug the small folding knife out of her purse, went to one knee on the gritty, rough blacktop and cut the air valve off a tire.
If Hickson did find a way to get loose, he wouldn’t be driving anywhere.
Her knee hurt as she stood again, but she paid it no mind. “Come on.”
Cheryl followed as she darted back to her car, this time crossing the field. Weeds caught on her clothes; disturbed insects swarmed upward.
Alice tried to be vigilant, looking around for prying eyes. She saw no one. “Does anyone else know about that place?”
“Sometimes I wonder.” Getting enough oxygen into her lungs proved impossible. She all but panted—and still felt light-headed. “Don’t move. I will seriously fry you if you do.” The Taser had a fifteen-foot range, but in the small confines of the motel room, she was far closer than that.
Too close.
Without looking away from the man, she asked, “What’s your name?”
“Hickson.”
Alice shook her head. “No, not you. I don’t care about you.” She tipped her head toward the girl. “I meant her.”
Hickson snarled. “She’s not your concern.”
Alice wanted to shoot him. Bad. “I’m making her my concern.”
The girl fought back tears. “Ch-Cheryl.”
“What’s wrong with your arm, Cheryl?”
“T-t-tattoo.”
Disgusted, Hickson said, “Stop that goddamned stuttering!”
Alice scowled, and when the girl stammered again, saying, “S-sorry,” she lost her fragile grasp on control.
Heartbeat thundering in her ears, she whispered, “I don’t like you.” And with that, Alice pulled the trigger.
Teeth clenched and muscles bunched, Hickson gave a guttural scream of agony. His body went rigid, bowing hard as an incapacitating pulse overrode his motor functions, robbing him of any threat. It went on and on—because Alice continued to squeeze the trigger. His knees gave out, and he collapsed to the floor. Alice glanced at Cheryl. The girl covered her ears and sank to her haunches, her eyes squeezed shut.
Seeing that put her on autopilot.
Using her left hand, Alice retrieved the restraints from her purse.
The second she let up on the Taser, she was on Hickson, using the nylon straps to bind his arms behind his back. She leaped away just as quickly.
Cheryl whimpered.
Sympathy for the girl tore at Alice. She wanted to bludgeon Hickson over the head, but if she did, she might accidentally kill him, and what would Reese think about that?
Having a man in her life was proving problematic already. But she couldn’t think about that now.
Her Taser allowed her to shoot three times, thirty seconds each. She had to hurry or odds of them walking away would diminish.
She didn’t know the circumstances here, but she recognized Cheryl as a victim, Hickson as a creep. He could have a cohort or a buyer due to show up any minute. She just didn’t know.
On a slow breath, keeping that Taser steady on Hickson, she withdrew another nylon restraint from her purse. “Cheryl, calm down.”
“Oh, God, oh, God!”
“I can’t get you out of here if you don’t help.”
That got her attention. She sniffled, wiped her nose with a shaking hand. With wretched uncertainty, she asked, “Get me out? To go wh-where?”
“Away from here.” After that...well, she’d have to figure it out.
Hickson groaned, so Alice zapped him again.
His body flopped, jerked.
She let up and watched him slump boneless to the floor. Cheryl wasn’t helping much, so she’d have to rely on herself. She went back to Hickson, this time tightening the nylon around his ankles, under his pant legs. Luckily he didn’t wear boots; she was able to get them really tight.
When she finished, she tossed a nylon tie to the poor girl still slumped on the floor, now wide-eyed with confusion. “Cheryl, I need you to attach his ankles to that pipe.”
Cheryl tripped toward a protruding pipe.
“No, the other one.” Alice watched her. “The wet, moldy, dripping pipe.”
“Are you a...a cop?” Cheryl asked while looping the nylon through the ankle restraints and around the pipe. There was barely enough room.
“No, sorry.”
Cheryl hesitated. “Are you working for someone else?”
“I’m self-employed.” Her attention on Hickson, Alice watched, ready if he moved a single muscle...
All he did was moan.
Cheryl threw herself away from him, doing a crab crawl backward until she ended up in the middle of the disgusting mattress, her knees pulled up, her arms around her shins.
Hickson was completely immobilized, far enough away from the door that he wouldn’t be able to reach it. And cuffed to the pipe that way, he’d have a hard time sitting up.
Alice decided she would leave him there until she formulated a plan. On the desk was a phone, some change, a slip of paper with a number. Alice gathered it all up. “Does he have a wallet?”
“I don’t know.”
Alice had no intention of getting close to him again. “All right. Come with me, please. Quickly.”
Hickson groaned again as they sidled out of the room, being sure to stay out of his reach. At the door, Alice peeked out, replaced the Taser in her purse and motioned for Cheryl to follow.
As she hustled past the truck, she paused, then decided to take a risk. “Wait.” She dug the small folding knife out of her purse, went to one knee on the gritty, rough blacktop and cut the air valve off a tire.
If Hickson did find a way to get loose, he wouldn’t be driving anywhere.
Her knee hurt as she stood again, but she paid it no mind. “Come on.”
Cheryl followed as she darted back to her car, this time crossing the field. Weeds caught on her clothes; disturbed insects swarmed upward.
Alice tried to be vigilant, looking around for prying eyes. She saw no one. “Does anyone else know about that place?”
