down your throat.”
“Tried. Did…. didn’t work.”
Jillian shook Megan’s shoulder hard. “I need you to try again.”
Megan obediently turned onto her side.
As Jillian listened to her sister’s repeated attempts to vomit, she wondered about the woman they’d tried to save. Had she made it? Or was she already dead? And if dead, had they left her in the middle of the road? Or was she concealed somewhere close by in the dark?
She recalled their attacker’s confidence. He’d seemed unconcerned about discovery.
“No…good,” Megan said after long moments. “This is all my fault…getting us lost.”
“Neither of us is responsible.” Jill moved closer, straining to see. Megan appeared to be lying on her side, her knees drawn to her chest.
Jillian smoothed the hair back from Megan’s forehead. “Tell me everything you can. How many are there?”
“Two.”
“Was I out very long?”
“Don’t…don’t know,” Megan mumbled. “Tired. Cold.”
“What about the woman? Do you know what they did with her?”
“Here.”
Jillian scanned the intense darkness. “Lady. Are you there?” she called, and then waited for any sign of life. When there was none, she leaned over her sister again. “Did the men say anything?”
Megan pulled her legs even tighter to her chest. “Say ’bout what?”
Jillian gave her sister a gentle shake. “Where they’re taking us. What they plan to do with us.”
She didn’t really expect her sister to know those answers. Obviously, Megan was half-gone with whatever they’d given her.
“Kill…us. Like woman.”
“They said that?” Jillian waited for her sister to answer, but she didn’t. “Megan?” Jillian gave her a hard shake this time. “Stay with me.”
But when she still didn’t respond, Jillian sat back. With Megan out, it was going to be up to Jillian to protect both of them. But how? As long as they were chained up, they were pretty much helpless.
Jillian propped her back against the mesh wall and carefully straightened her injured leg. If she flexed her toes, she could just reach the opposite mesh wall. If she had to make a guess, the truck must normally be used to haul some type of livestock.
Given the truck’s speed, she assumed the road they were on to be a secondary one and not a major highway. Was it possible that she’d been unconscious only a short time? That they hadn’t gone all that far? Were still in the Francis Marion National Forest?
If she could get them free from the shackles and get the back doors open, they could wait for the truck to slow even more and…
Jillian tried forcing the manacle over her hand. Unsuccessful, she collapsed her palm at the same time as she pulled. Continuing to manipulate the cuff, she rocked it back and forth as she twisted.
She added some hard-to-come-by spit to her wrist. She’d been fortunate to avoid the full dose of whatever they’d given Megan, but she couldn’t count on that happening a second time. Once drugged, there would be no hope of escape.
Just as there was already no hope of rescue.
With no witnesses to their abduction, who would miss them? No one back home expected to hear from them. And even though they had confirmed reservations at one of Charleston’s better hotels, the hotel staff wasn’t likely to call the authorities when Jillian and Megan failed to check in. They’d run the cost for one night’s stay through on Jillian’s credit card and then cancel the other two nights. And when Jillian didn’t show up for her job interview tomorrow, her résumé would hit the circular file. End of story.
Eventually someone might find Jillian’s abandoned car. But by the time the police were brought in, the trail would be cold. The story of two missing sisters might make America’s Most Wanted, but after a few months another kidnapping, another unfortunate incident would push their plight into the background. And with no family to stoke anyone’s memory, she and Megan would be forgotten.
She couldn’t let that happen. It couldn’t end like this. She wouldn’t allow it. Somehow. Some way. They were going to survive this.
In sudden frustration, Jillian tore at the manacle and in the process peeled open the heel of her hand. Cursing, fighting tears, she bent over her wrist. She’d heard of animals chewing off a paw to escape a trap and of people cutting off a limb just to survive, but she didn’t have any type of instrument to accomplish an amputation. And even if she did, she doubted that she could actually go through with the self-mutilation. At least not yet.
But would it come to that? Would there come a time when she’d be willing to do just about anything? She decided it might be best not to think about the future. Swallowing her tears, Jillian ran her hands upward over the wire-mesh wall to the overhead mesh. For now she needed a skinny piece of metal.
She’d only picked one lock in her life and there’d been someone standing over her shoulder the whole time, explaining the process, but at least it would keep her from going crazy while she came up with something better.
With a quick indrawn breath, she jerked her fingers back, having encountered something sharp. After several seconds, going back to the same spot, she explored more cautiously but just as desperately.
A sharp scraping sound, like nails across a chalkboard, shrieked from overhead. Even though she was encased in suffocating blackness, Jillian stopped moving and stared upward for several seconds. When another screech followed the first, she realized it was just a low tree limb dragging across the outside of the truck, and went back to what she was doing.
It seemed as if she’d exhausted every inch of available surface before she finally located a piece of metal that wasn’t firmly attached on one end. With her second attempt to break it off, she managed to rip off the meaty end of her finger instead. With the sixth attempt, she jammed it beneath her fingernail. With no other choice, and blood now interfering with her ability to grasp, she continued as best she could, stopping only when she could no longer hold her arm above her head.
Finally the two-inch length of metal broke free and immediately fell into the straw.
Desperately, Jillian foraged. This was literally a needle in a haystack. She’d never find it. Panic tightened her chest, as dread deepened inside her. As long as she had a course of action, she’d been okay, but suddenly the ability to cope evaporated.
After several difficult seconds, she managed to partially rein in the panic. She needed to keep it together. The piece of metal would be heavier than the straw. Maybe it had dropped through the bedding, was resting against the floor. Finding the piece of metal where the back wall met the floor, Jillian picked it up and settled back, her manacled hand resting in her lap.
Holding the crude pick between the thumb and first two fingers of her free hand, she used the remaining two fingers to locate the lock, then in an awkward movement attempted
