Made for You
Page 72
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I grab my phone and my shoes, not bothering to put them on, and follow him to the car. “She just texted me a little while ago.” I glance at my phone as I reach the car; it’s not working. “There are no new texts.”
“Hold on.” He stops at the trunk and pops it open. “The seat’s all wet.”
When I try the car door, it won’t open. “It’s locked.”
“I know,” he says, and then I feel something hit me. I start to fall, and that’s the last thing I know.
WHEN I OPEN MY eyes, I am in the dark. I try to sit up and thunk my head. I feel around, hoping I’m wrong, but between the low barrier over my head and the sense of movement, I realize that I am in a car trunk. Worse yet, I am in Reid’s trunk.
Reid.
Reid is the killer.
I’m trapped in the killer’s trunk.
I think back to Eva’s death visions, and I remember her saying that I was at the library and then shoved in a trunk. Obviously, something changed. I was still shoved in a trunk though.
Does that mean that I’m going to die? Was part of the vision—the trunk part—accurate, but not the rest? I don’t know how much stock I put in her visions. I cannot believe that this is the start of my death. I won’t believe that. I can’t.
I search the darkness around me for a weapon. I’ll fight him with whatever I can. I don’t find anything at first and then I feel my phone.
“Thank you. Thank you.”
I try to dial 911, but nothing happens. The phone works; the battery is good. There’s no signal, though.
I keep trying, hoping we were just passing through a dead zone, but nothing changes. I can’t make a call or send a text or email.
I have no cell signal, no weapon, and I’m trapped in a sweltering car trunk. Air conditioning apparently doesn’t blow into the trunk, and the mix of fear, heat, and motion makes me wonder if I’m going to throw up.
I hear the change and feel the thump as the car leaves the road. I’m jostled around and we go over what is either a dirt road, or no road at all. The realization that we’re leaving the road terrifies me. North Carolina is a state full of thick growth. Kudzu—a seemingly beautiful but incredibly destructive ivy-like vine—covers whole trees and buildings, drapes from utility poles, and it’s far from the only plant gone wild in this state. Whatever fate awaits me at the end of a dirt road isn’t one I want.
When the car stops, I still haven’t found anything to use as a weapon, and I feel increasingly horrible. The dizziness and headache are the least of my problems though. I opened the door to a killer, one who is now opening the trunk and looking at me.
I try to kick him, and he grabs my leg. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
“You . . . you’re him.” I know it’s true, but I need him to confirm it. “You killed them.”
“I sacrificed Amy, but yeah, I killed Micki and Madison.” Reid motions me out of the trunk.
I thought I couldn’t get any more afraid, but I was wrong. His words make me unable to breathe. I didn’t know Madison was dead. She was alive yesterday. I saw her yesterday. That means he killed someone today, someone I knew, someone he’s known his whole life. Sometime between driving me home yesterday afternoon and kidnapping me this morning, Reid killed Madison.
“Come on, Yeung. I haven’t got all day.”
As soon as my feet touch the ground, I start to run. My odds aren’t great, but they’re better than they will be if he locks me up somewhere. I have to try. I don’t get very far before he tackles me from behind. I’m pinned facedown in the dirt under him.
“Please don’t do that,” he says, his mouth next to my ear.
I fill with the same fear that I’m sure every girl has felt trapped under a boy. This sense of helplessness makes me start to buck and squirm to get away. I don’t scream at first, trying to save my breath for fighting, but when I can’t get him off my back, I open my mouth to scream too.
Reid clamps a hand over my mouth. “Don’t do that either.”
I remember the detective—and the picture she showed us. Amy had words carved into her skin. She was killed. I try to scream again, even though his hand is on my mouth.
“No!” Reid’s hand tightens over my mouth. He shoves his other arm under me, wrapping it around my waist, and he hauls me to my feet. I try to go limp, to use my body weight to throw him off balance and get free.
It doesn’t work. He pulls me tighter up against him. I try to squirm out of his hold, to kick my legs back at him, but it makes no difference.
I’m not sure what he’s going to do, but I’m certain it’s not something I want to find out either. I’m tired, and my head hurts, and I don’t know how to escape.
Then he drags me toward the car, and I realize that he’s parked outside a falling-down building that was hidden by trees and plants. It’s a cabin, the sort that I’ve been to for a few parties. It doesn’t look big; the size of the whole thing is more like a garage than a house. The windows are covered with plywood, and the outside looks like no one has been here in years. Kudzu covers the whole of it so densely that I’m not sure how we’ll get inside.
“Now, if you don’t try to run again, I won’t hurt you,” Reid says. “If you do, I will hurt you. Eva wouldn’t like that, so I’m trying not to do it. Do you understand?”
I can feel his breath on my ear, and I whimper despite myself.
“Hold on.” He stops at the trunk and pops it open. “The seat’s all wet.”
When I try the car door, it won’t open. “It’s locked.”
“I know,” he says, and then I feel something hit me. I start to fall, and that’s the last thing I know.
WHEN I OPEN MY eyes, I am in the dark. I try to sit up and thunk my head. I feel around, hoping I’m wrong, but between the low barrier over my head and the sense of movement, I realize that I am in a car trunk. Worse yet, I am in Reid’s trunk.
Reid.
Reid is the killer.
I’m trapped in the killer’s trunk.
I think back to Eva’s death visions, and I remember her saying that I was at the library and then shoved in a trunk. Obviously, something changed. I was still shoved in a trunk though.
Does that mean that I’m going to die? Was part of the vision—the trunk part—accurate, but not the rest? I don’t know how much stock I put in her visions. I cannot believe that this is the start of my death. I won’t believe that. I can’t.
I search the darkness around me for a weapon. I’ll fight him with whatever I can. I don’t find anything at first and then I feel my phone.
“Thank you. Thank you.”
I try to dial 911, but nothing happens. The phone works; the battery is good. There’s no signal, though.
I keep trying, hoping we were just passing through a dead zone, but nothing changes. I can’t make a call or send a text or email.
I have no cell signal, no weapon, and I’m trapped in a sweltering car trunk. Air conditioning apparently doesn’t blow into the trunk, and the mix of fear, heat, and motion makes me wonder if I’m going to throw up.
I hear the change and feel the thump as the car leaves the road. I’m jostled around and we go over what is either a dirt road, or no road at all. The realization that we’re leaving the road terrifies me. North Carolina is a state full of thick growth. Kudzu—a seemingly beautiful but incredibly destructive ivy-like vine—covers whole trees and buildings, drapes from utility poles, and it’s far from the only plant gone wild in this state. Whatever fate awaits me at the end of a dirt road isn’t one I want.
When the car stops, I still haven’t found anything to use as a weapon, and I feel increasingly horrible. The dizziness and headache are the least of my problems though. I opened the door to a killer, one who is now opening the trunk and looking at me.
I try to kick him, and he grabs my leg. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
“You . . . you’re him.” I know it’s true, but I need him to confirm it. “You killed them.”
“I sacrificed Amy, but yeah, I killed Micki and Madison.” Reid motions me out of the trunk.
I thought I couldn’t get any more afraid, but I was wrong. His words make me unable to breathe. I didn’t know Madison was dead. She was alive yesterday. I saw her yesterday. That means he killed someone today, someone I knew, someone he’s known his whole life. Sometime between driving me home yesterday afternoon and kidnapping me this morning, Reid killed Madison.
“Come on, Yeung. I haven’t got all day.”
As soon as my feet touch the ground, I start to run. My odds aren’t great, but they’re better than they will be if he locks me up somewhere. I have to try. I don’t get very far before he tackles me from behind. I’m pinned facedown in the dirt under him.
“Please don’t do that,” he says, his mouth next to my ear.
I fill with the same fear that I’m sure every girl has felt trapped under a boy. This sense of helplessness makes me start to buck and squirm to get away. I don’t scream at first, trying to save my breath for fighting, but when I can’t get him off my back, I open my mouth to scream too.
Reid clamps a hand over my mouth. “Don’t do that either.”
I remember the detective—and the picture she showed us. Amy had words carved into her skin. She was killed. I try to scream again, even though his hand is on my mouth.
“No!” Reid’s hand tightens over my mouth. He shoves his other arm under me, wrapping it around my waist, and he hauls me to my feet. I try to go limp, to use my body weight to throw him off balance and get free.
It doesn’t work. He pulls me tighter up against him. I try to squirm out of his hold, to kick my legs back at him, but it makes no difference.
I’m not sure what he’s going to do, but I’m certain it’s not something I want to find out either. I’m tired, and my head hurts, and I don’t know how to escape.
Then he drags me toward the car, and I realize that he’s parked outside a falling-down building that was hidden by trees and plants. It’s a cabin, the sort that I’ve been to for a few parties. It doesn’t look big; the size of the whole thing is more like a garage than a house. The windows are covered with plywood, and the outside looks like no one has been here in years. Kudzu covers the whole of it so densely that I’m not sure how we’ll get inside.
“Now, if you don’t try to run again, I won’t hurt you,” Reid says. “If you do, I will hurt you. Eva wouldn’t like that, so I’m trying not to do it. Do you understand?”
I can feel his breath on my ear, and I whimper despite myself.
