Trapped

“I’m just going to step outside!” Sarah flagged her friend from the bar and pointed in the direction of the doorway. ‘YOU OK?’ her friend signed back over the crowd. “Yeah, just a bit too hot. Back in a sec!”

Straight lines were no longer a concept to Sarah, the room was spinning and the lights were just adding to the confusion. Disco balls should be banned after your eighth tequila shot she decided stumbling out into the alleyway beside the club. “Fuck me,” she breathed out painfully, one arm on the wall. Her dress needed to come off, but she couldn’t just strip in the alleyway, so she put up with the heat trapped inside it. Sweat was dripping from her forehead. She needed to throw up in all honesty but she was already too hot and that would use up energy she didn’t have.

“You OK there?” Some guy in a suit asks from the doorway.

“I’m not entirely sure. Think I should probably head home. Is the floor moving?”

“Um. No.”

She promptly throws up on his new, freshly shined, dress shoes as a blue car goes past. She winces. Lights can fuck off right now.

“Definitely home time for you,” he grabs her shoulders and turns her in the direction of the road and starts walking, trying to ignore the smell of her vomit.

“I’m SO sorry! I - I’ll pay to clean them.” She holds onto his arm and looks up apologetically, a soft glow in her cheeks.

“You can’t dry clean shoes but thank you. Where’d you live I’ll take you back?” He graciously offers, putting her arm around his waist to keep her upright.

“Um. I probably shouldn’t take you to my house. I’m drunk. I won’t be taken advantage of thank you very much young man.” She says every word very pointedly, it was a very good point she thought, and she wanted it to be clear that she did not want anything from him but help to a car.

“Not drunk enough to make stupid decisions, noted,” he chuckled at her very specific word choice , “very sensible of you Miss. If I can’t accompany you home, is it OK if I walk you to the nearest taxi rank and tell the driver to make sure you get there OK?”

“I guess that would be OK?” She nodded.

“Perfect. My names Jack, what’s yours?”

“Sarah. I wish we’d met under better circum- circ- conditions. You’re cute.” She smiled and leant on him a little heavier.

“You’re not so bad yourself!” He grinned before explaining that he’d never take advantage of a girl this drunk as they walk past the bouncer. Jack lets him know that he’s walking her to a taxi, she’s had a few too many and if anyone asks for Sarah, she’s gone home. Always best to make friends with a bouncer he tells her.

“So, what do you do for a job Sarah?” Making polite conversation seemed like the right thing to do. Why wouldn’t you want to know more about the girl who threw up on your shoes?

“I’m a temp, I write emails, answer phone calls and get coffee. You?”

“I’m a writer. I do custom made fiction for people.”

“Ooo, creative. Haven’t met a guy with an imagination and sense of adventure in a while.”

“Don’t get much more creative than me! What I can’t do with paper and pen isn’t worth knowing.”

“Guy with slight ego problem, those are dime a dozen!”

He shot her a sarcastic look, she stuck her tongue out teasingly, she was a handful after a few too many. “I’ll let you off this once. You’re drunk.”

“And what if I wasn’t, Mr Jack, would you like me then?”

“I like you now. But you need to sober up first. And my name is not Mr Jack. Just Jack.”

She throws up suddenly, worse this time. She holds her head and feels her fingers tingly. “I’m really dizzy.”

“Do you want to stop walking for a bit?”

“Yeah, just for a sec. Is it just me or is it fucking freezing now?”

Jack’s phone starts ringing, he pulls his phone out and wraps his jacket around her before stepping off to one side. “I’ve just got to take this, stay there.” She leans against the wall, pushing her hair out her face. Slowly, her breathing changes from its regular flow to unpatterned and dangerous. She goes to call out for Jack and collapses on the pavement, still awake and aware of what’s going on around her but she can’t move. “Fucking finally. Come get her Rabbit,” he whispers down the phone making sure to be out of earshot.

“Shit! Sarah, are you OK? Let’s get you upright, come on.” She’s mouthing words at him but nothing’s coming out. He gets her to her feet and holds her upright. “It’s OK. I think someone drugged you at the bar. I’ll come with you and make sure you get into bed. As long as you have lots of water and stay on your side, you should be fine. You shouldn’t stay there on your own.” She nods slowly, she has no option. Choking on her own vomit and dying in her sleep wasn’t the direction she thought this night was going.

A white van comes round the corner and she collapses into Jack, the headlights are too bright. The world spins about a million times faster, she can feel the cold change to warmth all over her body. The van stops, the lights directly in her eyes, she closes her eyes but can’t move her hands to blind her properly. She hears the door slide open and suddenly a gun is cocked right by her head. Jack holds an arm round her trying to keep her upright. “Drop the girl,” the man growls. The way Jack tensed, she knew this was a proper threat. “No. Take me. Leave her alone.”

“I said - drop the girl.” The cold metal touches her forehead as Jack apologises a thousand times under his breath. There’s nothing he can do. It’s not his fault. Jack leant her against the wall. “I’m so so sorry. I’ll do whatever I can to get us out of this.” He immediately turned around and punched the creep in the face, he made contact with the jaw and shook out his fist in pain. “You fucking idiot,” the man grabbed Jack’s collar and forced him into the wall before going to town on his stomach, groin and then face. By the time he was finished, Jack was a crumpled mess in the gutter. Through squinted eyes, she tries to crawl to him but lands flat on her face.

That’s when he grabs her hair and pulls her up to look at him. Only now does she make a noise, only a short whine of pain. “Hello gorgeous,” his smarmy voice makes her want to kill him. “Look at me darling.” She turns her face away as best she can but she’s met with a slightly damp old dish cloth. Hyperventilating only makes it worse, you take in chloroform a lot quicker when you breathe. The man picks her up and ties her arms and legs together in the van, plastic zip ties cut into her skin as her vision goes from white spots from the light to pure black. “Sleep well sweetheart.” A heavy body lands beside her as she passes out in the darkness of the cold, white van.