Chapter 1
Oh god, I’m going to die! Gemma’s inner voice screamed, along with other streams of negative comments. Maybe it was time for some positive thoughts. Yes, like I’m not going to die, I’ll get out of this, I’ll get some therapy to help with the nightmare’s I’m bound to have if I make it out of this. No. Not if, when. In fact maybe I’ll just hire a hypnotist, to cover up the memory of this dreadful week. Then maybe I could get back in the dating scene, find a wonderful loving husband and live happily ever after.
“Gem, Gem. Baby, where are you?” A distant male voice called from behind her, followed by the sound of male laughter.
Oh who’s kidding, I’m going to die here. Gemma refrained from whimpering at the thought. Maybe they’d make it quick and painless? Then why do they carry guns, knives and other various hunting gear? Of course it’s not going to be painless.
“God, help me please. I promise I’ll never do anything bad again, I’ll return all the library books I even took and never gave back, I’ll never litter again. I’ll do anything you want. Come on, what am I being punished for, huh? Was it because I slept with Bobby Dickens and hour after I met him? Come on that was in college, I’ll stay celibate until marriage. I know that’s what the Christians do. Please don’t let me die like this. Show me a way out.” She pleaded in a soft voice so not to be heard.
The eerie silence of the woods aside from the chirping birds and the light billowing winds rustling the leaves made her realise how completely and utterly alone she was out here, surrounded by her three soon to be murderers. How sad that one of them happened to be her boyfriend. I guess this is his way of ending the relationship then. She’d been dumped by text once and always thought that was the worst way to dump a girl. But she’d happily take that now than this. If being her boyfriend slash killer wasn’t enough to ruin her day his two accompanying goons where his closest friends, men she’d considered her friends for the past eight months.
When a long moment passed it became clear that god was not going to save her, either that or he wasn’t real and she’d just wasted valuable time ranting at the sky and begging for help. Quite frankly as mad as the last option sounded she would prefer the latter to be true, because if truly there was a god and dying a painful death in the middle of the woods, probably never to be found was her fate then she definitely wasn’t making it to heaven–and if heaven and God wasn’t real then neither was hell and the Devil. Somehow dying this way then spending eternity in hell didn’t quite seem fair to her, unless god punished for the little things like outstanding library books, littering and sex before marriage, if that was the case then no one would made it up to heaven.
“Fine, I’ll save myself.” She muttered defiantly. The urge to stomp her foot in childish rage at the most likely non-existent god was strong but she held back. Dead leaves surrounded her, crisp and cold in the dark damp woods, spring was here and fresh leaves had budded on the trees but despite it being late march and relatively warmish she was cold.
In a way from her hiding spot behind the large oak tree she had an advantage, she would be able to hear when her soon to be murderers approached her, the disadvantage was if she were to make a run for it they’d be on her tail in minutes with the noise it would make. They definitely picked their murder scene well. Enough tree cover to keep the vast area shaded, almost dark as night in some thick tree’s areas, and they’d situated her no doubt smack bang in the middle of the forest, where no matter how many times they fired their guns, or how loud she screamed, nothing but the wildlife would hear.
The sound of a single gunshot, much closer to her than she’d have liked it to be had her jumping in shock and covering her mouth to silence the scream she couldn’t stop from coming out.
“Damn, did you see that? I blew that squirrel to pieces.” Peter–her now ex-boyfriend’s voice sounded from about a hundred yards away, shuffling on her feet slowly and quietly in the fallen leaves, Gemma peered around the tree in the direction the voices had sounded from. A light shone from a flash light in the thick brush but she couldn’t make out any bodies. They were getting closer to her and if she didn’t make a run for it now they’d be right on top of her, but if she did run they were closer enough to hear her, she could certainly hear them shuffling around from her position. Indecision flared inside her, and her brain failed her, she was so engrossed in the thought of dying that no ideas of preventing the inevitable sprang forth. Focus, Gemma, we can get out of this alive. The mini pep-talk did little to lower her ever rising heartbeat. The organ was beating so fast and so hard it was pounding in her ears, drowning out the forest sounds around her. Her breathing increased to short little pants. Oh god, no. Not now. Why are you punishing me? She could feel the panic attack coming on, reminding her so well of her childhood that was plagued by them. Slowly a sense of her airwaves closing had her clasping her neck and gasping for a breath she knew was there. Remember your exercises. Don’t panic. You’re fine. Don’t panic, how cliché.
Gemma willed her body to calm it’ self. She was a smart girl, loved problem solving and this was just another problem she would solve. She slowed her breathing down and slowly each time she inhaled she was able to draw in more breath. In moments her rapid heartbeat calmed to a slow rhythmic beat and the fog that clouded her brain cleared. She needed to distract them. They were heading straight for her but if she could make it seem like she was somewhere else they head off, and she could run in the opposite direction.
Dropping her head Gemma searched the leaf cluttered ground for a stone or a fallen branch, something heavy she could throw. Finding nothing upon first glance a sense of hopelessness started to creep up on her but she squashed it, fearing that if she let it take over she’d give in and wait for them to find her and hope they made it quick. Nothing it seemed lay at her feet in the darkness until her second glance where she noticed a rock almost hidden beneath a pile of damp leaves. Bending to pick it up Gemma was glad it wasn’t heavy. The rock was the size of a tennis ball in her palm and if thrown should hopefully bounce and make enough noise to head them off. The sound of leaves crunching closer and hushed voices had her throwing the stone in blind panic to their left. She hadn’t had any time to plan where she wanted to throw, never much a sporting person she was always picked last in any event and the team that ended up stuck with her always made it clear how un-wanted she was. After many swings of a bat with her butter fingers losing grip, leaving the bat swinging straight for the pitcher, and kicks of a soccer ball that she always ended kicking into her own team’s goal her compassionate teacher let her sit the class out. The only exercise she was good at was running, forced into it when her weight doubled a few years back thanks to one of her many bad break ups.
And it seemed with age her sporting hadn’t improved. She thrown the rock with everything she had but it didn’t land as far away as she would have liked it to. But it did bounce in the leaves and hit a tree loud enough for her to hear, and clearly the men behind her.
“Did you hear that?” Peter called and the sound of them crunching through the leaves stopped.
“Sound like a skittering animal to me. Maybe it was a squirrel.”
“That was too loud to be a squirrel you idiot. She’s panicking and it sounded close, she’s not fit by any means, probably stopped to sit her fat ass down. Come on this way.” The shuffling leaves noise started up again towards the direction she threw the stone. Despite the situation the fat ass comment hurt more than the fact that he wanted to kill her. She worked hard daily to keep her weight down. So she had a little more junk in the trunk then the models you saw in the newspapers, she couldn’t help it if the fat headed straight to her butt first. At least she could fill out a pair of jeans better than those flat assed skeletons that walked down the catwalk now a days.
Manoeuvring around the tree to stay out of their sight Gemma waited until the voices of her kidnappers sounded muffled with distance and with a last fleeting thought of escaping and surviving she took off in a sprint only to get run straight into a tree.
“Shit,” she took a step back and rubbed her sore nose. Great, running into dark woods with watery eyes, someone really hated her up there.
“Going somewhere?” Peter’s voice sounded from in front of her. “Throwing a rock, really? How dumb do you think I am?”
