Isolation (Book 1): Shut In

by Jones, Nathan

  Like that poor woman in the truck, on her way to whatever evil hideout these robbers had set up.

  Although it looked as if the men in the new trucks rumbling into the gas station lot didn't share the same fears as their buddies, aside from the gloves and face masks and a few full-body suits on display as they poured out of the vehicles and approached.

  Unlike Scrawny and Big, the members of the Q Team showed no qualms about walking right up to Ellie and Hal, a few holding them securely while a few more patted them down and took the car keys, their phones, their wallets, and everything else they had on them.

  To Ellie's horror, the patting down didn't stop there; she whimpered through clenched teeth as the search became a rough groping, gut churning with fear and revulsion as their pawing hands abandoned even the pretense of looking for hidden items and simply roamed her body. All the while the men laughed and talked about the vile things they planned to do once she finished her four days of isolation, as if she wasn't even there.

  As if she wasn't even a person.

  Even the men holding her joined in the depredations, which continued as the searchers got out rolls of duct tape and began putting it to use taping her hands behind her back and her legs together at the ankles and knees, the air filled with the distinctive “thwap” noises. They also slapped a strip across her mouth, muffling her whimpers.

  Ellie was sick with dread that they were going to do something right then and there. That is, something even more terrible than what they were already doing. But to her vast relief, once she and Hal were securely bound they were hauled up and dragged around to the back of their green sedan, where the trunk had been thrown open.

  It didn't look big enough to hold even one of them comfortably, let alone both, but with a lot of shoving and cursing she and her friend were packed inside, on their sides facing each other. She flinched as the trunk door slammed shut above her, although she was relieved to finally be away from the groping hands.

  For now.

  Interminable minutes dragged by as men shouted outside, making preparations to leave. Ellie spent the time composing herself after her mistreatment, focusing on her shuddering breaths until she'd cobbled together some semblance of composure.

  By the time she'd managed it she felt the car shake as their captors climbed inside, at least a driver and passenger, and doors slammed. Then a muted vibration began as the engine rumbled to life, and with a crunch of tires nearly directly underneath her they lurched into motion.

  On their way to whatever hideout these robbers were using.

  Hal's solid presence next to her proved a surprising comfort, the scent of his sweat and even the hint of BO in the confined space grounding her after the horror she'd just suffered, and her terror of what was coming when she was pulled out of this trunk again.

  Assuming they survived the trip. How much air was in this trunk? Did it have ventilation? It already felt stifling, and the thought of suffocation made panic claw at her fragile composure again.

  Although a dark part of her mind wondered if that would be a mercy compared to what was waiting for her.

  “Ellie?” Hal hissed in the darkness, making her jump in surprise.

  Her friend's voice was completely clear, no hint of being muffled by the duct tape she'd seen slapped across his mouth. She tried to speak his name, but of course it just came out as a muted grunt.

  “It's fine, El, it's going to be okay.” He paused, then continued in an anguished tone. “What they said, the way they treated you . . .” He swore bitterly, voice thick with guilt and helpless rage. “I-I'm so sorry you had to go through that. That I couldn't stop them.”

  Ellie sucked in a sharp breath through her nose, then awkwardly shifted and craned her head forward until she felt her forehead brush his hair. She leaned against his head, and when he leaned in as well, comforting her as best he could in his restraints, she felt herself dissolve into shuddering sobs for a minute or two.

  Then she forced herself back into composure and tried to speak through the gag again, to ask how he'd got free of his.

  Hal took his own shuddering breath, and his voice became calm and determined. “Right, how I'm talking. If these idiots wanted to actually keep us gagged they should've wrapped the duct tape all the way around our heads a few times. That strip over the mouth like in the movies is completely useless, since you can just lick it until it comes off.”

  That sounded gross, but at the same time she wanted to breathe clearly again. And talk, of course, if for no other reason than to share a few final words with her friend before . . . before whatever came next.

  Ellie got busy working her tongue across the tape sealed over her lips, and sure enough she felt it begin to come free, letting her poke her tongue farther and farther under the tape until half of it peeled off, leaving her mouth free.

  She sucked in her first decent breath in who knew how long, although it was more of a gasp. “Hal?” she hissed.

  “Still here. It's good to hear your voice.” His own showed deep concern. “Are you okay, El?”

  “I'll worry about that later,” Ellie replied, afraid if she tried right now to deal with what she'd just been through, with her fears for what the future held, she'd fall apart again.

  She squinted through the pitch black at her companion. He was only inches away, and their knees and heads were touching, but he still felt impossibly far away with them both bound like this. Which was a shame; she could've used a familiar, comforting presence right about now to hold her and tell her things would be okay.

  Even if they probably wouldn't be. “What now?” she asked, trying to make her voice steady.

  Hal thought it over for a few seconds. “Two options I can see,” he replied. “We could try wiggling around until we can reach each other's hands and try to tear off the duct tape. Or, if you think you're flexible enough, you can put all that yoga to work and maneuver your arms out in front of you, and I can try gnawing the duct tape off your wrists.”

  She gave a slightly hysterical laugh. “If we were in any other situation, I'd say you were into some weird stuff.”

  He laughed back, not sounding too much steadier. “I'd be much happier if we were.” He fumbled slightly. “That is, um . . .”

  “I get it. I'll try to get my arms in front of me, give me some space.”

  Her friend's knees pulled away from hers slightly, and she heard soft rustlings and then a few thumps. “That's the best I can do.”

  Ellie took a breath and straightened her legs into the gap he'd created. “Okay. Sorry in advance if I kick you somewhere unfortunate.”

  “If we were in any other situation . . .”

  Well, at least they still had gallows humor.

  She got to work wiggling around to try to get her bound hands around her rump, muscles burning with strain. It didn't take long to realize that, again unlike the movies, with her hands bound that high up the wrists it was a logistical impossibility to get them past, especially in the cramped confines of the trunk.

  Or who knew, maybe she just had unusually short arms.

  “Can't,” she finally growled in frustration.

  “Okay, roll over with your back towards me.”

  It took a lot of squirming, fumbling, and a couple awkward moments, but finally they were pressed together back-to-back with their hands touching. In spite of the urgency of the situation, Ellie couldn't help but simply grasp his hands awkwardly for a minute or so, taking comfort in his reassuring return grip.

  Then with more labored, panting breaths, fumbling, cursing, and plenty of strained muscles and burning discomfort, Hal finally managed to get the end of the duct tape strip wrapped around Ellie's wrists between his fingers. He carefully tugged until he could get a better grip, then began unwinding the tape with a series of sharp jerks. Ellie winced as the tape tugged at tiny hairs on her forearm, ones she hadn't even realized she had.

  Then she was free.

  With a quiet hoot of triumph, she twisted ar
ound and fumbled to free his hands, then got to work on her feet. That put them in a better position than they had been, but they were still in the trunk of their car with rapist thugs in the front.

  “What now?” she hissed.

  “Now we get out.” Hal shifted around beside her, and she heard more panting breaths and the sound of flesh sliding on metal.

  “How? What're you doing?”

  He replied as he worked, voice strained. “Looking for the interior emergency release latch. I heard trunk doors are supposed to have them, and I know at least some do.”

  That seemed like oddly specific knowledge. “This and the duct tape. You have some experience with being kidnapped?”

  Her friend chuckled tersely. “Well the duct tape is just common sense. As for the trunk latch, one of my buddies got married four or so years ago. For the bachelor party we grabbed him outside his job, put a bag over his head, and tossed him in the trunk of his own car. Thought it was a pretty good joke, until he surprised us by throwing open the trunk when we reached the party place and went to get him. He jumped out at us and tackled our buddy Carl, almost beat the crap out of him.”

  “Your teenage years sound a lot more exciting than mine.”

  “Mostly because we were all idiots.” Hal abruptly grunted in triumph. “There, found it. Now the question is, do we try to jump out when the car slows at an intersection, or on the other hand they must've gassed up so they could drive it to this hideout of theirs . . . do we wait until they stop, then try to jump them so we can maybe retake the car when they come for us?”

  Ellie shuddered at the idea of passing up a chance to escape this nightmare, even if it offered an opportunity to keep the sedan. “Intersection. Let's just get out of here if we can.”

  He must've heard something in her tone, because after a brief pause he spoke, voice gentle. “Hey, El, it's going to be okay.”

  She grit her teeth and blinked away the unwanted burning in her eyes. “Yeah, it will.” She reached out and touched his shoulder. “Because you were here. If I'd been alone . . .”

  Her friend snorted sourly. “Yeah, glad they didn't just shoot me. Although I'm kind of surprised they want forced labor along with-” he stuttered to silence, shifting uncomfortably.

  Ellie shuddered again. “Yeah.”

  The steady rumble of what had to be the car driving on the Interstate continued interminably, offering no chances for them to escape without a suicidal jump from the trunk at better than 75 miles an hour. How far away was this hideout? Was it along I-70, so they'd have no chance to escape at some turn at an intersection before they got there?

  “I wish we still had our phones,” she whispered.

  Hal huffed out his breath, somewhere between derision and bitterness. “To call the police? If they were in any position to help, they would've done something during the two or so hours this scum spent ransacking houses and kidnapping people a stone's throw from Denver. Unless nobody in Watkins has a phone, either.”

  “Even if they take a while, they have to respond to crime on this scale,” Ellie insisted. “If we had our phones the authorities could track them to this hideout, rescue us.” She rested her head against the rough material of the trunk's interior. “Or at least I could call my children and talk to them. Just in case we don't get a chance to get away.”

  Even as she said it, a surge of guilt swept over her. Ever since the robbers had rolled in, and especially since her capture, she'd only been thinking of her own fate. But what would happen to Ricky and Tallie if she was a prisoner in some criminal hideout? Nick was in quarantine and their children needed someone to care for them.

  That was why she'd been in such a rush to find gas in the first place.

  Although on the subject of Nick, she couldn't help but think with some bitterness that if she hadn't insisted on him staying in KC back when he offered to come pick them up, they might've all been safely back home at this very moment. She didn't regret her decision to prioritize her children's welfare over her own, of course, but, well . . .

  Considering the trouble she was in she could admit she kind of rued it. Although that firmed her resolve that more than just for herself, she needed to get out of this for the sake of her daughter and son.

  Finally, after what could've been an eternity or a half hour, she felt the car slow and the rumble of its tires changed as it pulled onto an off-ramp. Ellie felt Hal tense beside her, and the soft click of the trunk door latch. It opened slightly, creating a crack of blinding light she had to squint against as she pushed onto her hands and knees beside him.

  The door wobbled as they passed over small bumps, almost slamming closed again as her friend struggled to keep it from moving enough to alert the robbers in the car. She knew he was hoping they'd stop at the first sign off the Interstate, so they could hopefully hitchhike along it or at least follow it to the nearest city.

  But to her disappointment the man behind the wheel peeled through a hard right turn, more tires squealing in the convoy they were in, and then they were cruising at high speeds again along a smaller, bumpier road.

  “Did you hear any vehicles behind us?” Ellie hissed. The last thing she wanted was to jump out of the trunk in front of a truck full of Q Team and immediately have to run for her life on shaky, cramped legs. Or just get run over by them the moment she was clear of the car.

  Hal cracked the trunk door a tiny bit more, pressing his eye to the blinding crack. “I think we're in the back,” he hissed back.

  “Can you see any clues to where we are? Where we're going?”

  Another long pause. “No idea. We can figure it out once we get away.”

  Considering there wasn't much else to do while she waited, Ellie tried to remember whatever she could about the area around Denver. Her mind drew a blank. Were they going to be near population centers when they got out? Out in the middle of nowhere?

  A few minutes later she felt a rumble in the car as it braked. Hal once again tensed. “Get ready.”

  Ellie nodded, and as the vehicle slowed to the point where they weren't going much faster than she could sprint, give or take, he flung open the trunk and lunged forward to crouch on the lip, sizing the jump. She joined him, biting back a frightened noise when she saw the road blurring by beneath her.

  Were they going as fast as she could sprint? It looked so much faster, and she had almost no experience jumping off moving vehicles. Why would she?

  Her friend twisted around to face the other way and dropped, legs flipping out from beneath him as his feet hit the pavement. He rolled in a way that made her wince in sympathy, but she couldn't give herself time to be intimidated by his poor landing.

  She took the information from his fall to try to improve her own attempt, spun on the narrow ledge of metal, and tucked her arms in as she dropped towards the ground, trying to go from zero to a sprint in no time flat.

  The next few instants were terrifying and painful. Ellie felt her legs flip out from beneath her in spite of her best efforts, then she was rolling across rough asphalt, a sharp jolt against her elbow sending numbness up her arm. From the way her limbs skidded on the road even through her clothes she had a feeling she'd be sporting more than a few scrapes and bruises as well, although thankfully at the moment adrenaline blocked the pain.

  As she flipped wildly, gray and blue flashing across her vision, she heard the screech of brakes. She forced herself onto skinned hands and knees the moment she stopped rolling, knowing she only had moments, and looked around wildly to determine the best escape route.

  The road was a narrow slash through hilly terrain, forested with evergreens and patches of aspen, scrub oak, and other trees she probably should've recognized but didn't. She didn't have much time to take in her surroundings before Hal caught her under the arm, and she found herself sprinting for the trees to the right of the road.

  Behind her she heard doors slamming and angry shouting. They barely managed a handful of steps into the thicket before gunfire roare
d from behind, joined by the sharp whine of passing bullets and the noise of foliage shredding and impacts on the tree trunks around her. Ellie bit back a shout and forced her shaky legs to move even faster, briefly pulling ahead of Hal as they ducked branches and dodged trees to get deeper into cover.

  Crashing from behind warned of pursuit, and she ducked at the roar of more shots fired, trying to make her movements erratic. Although dodging trees was doing that well enough as it was.

  What followed as an interminable blur of running, tripping and slamming into things, forcing herself to keep moving as the sounds of pursuit slowly grew more and more distant. The robbers eventually gave up even taking potshots, and finally after at least five minutes of flat-out sprinting she heard them shouting in frustration somewhere far behind, calling an end to the chase.

  Even then Ellie didn't stop, not taking any chances on being caught again by those animals. Close behind her Hal followed doggedly, although he was panting like a bellows, his crashing noises far louder than hers as he stumbled through the thick undergrowth.

  Finally her legs gave out and she nearly crashed face-first into a tree. She threw out an arm, managing to rebound off the trunk, and collapsed to the ground curled around it, lungs burning as she heaved in desperate breaths. Somewhere behind her Hal gasped in relief and she heard a crash as he also let himself collapse.

  Over the bellows of her own breaths, joined by the thunder of her heartbeat pounding in her ears, she listened for the sounds of anyone else moving through the forest. All she heard was her friend panting a short distance away: they were safe.

  Or were they?

  “Do you-” Ellie cut off with a ragged breath, swallowing down the roiling nausea of pushing past her limits, then continued determinedly. “Do you think being handled by those animals, who've probably handled a bunch of other possibly sick people, means we've got Zolos now?”

  Hal coughed, hacked, and she heard him spit. “I'd like to believe we don't.” She struggled to twist enough to glance at him dubiously, and he continued. “They were wearing gloves, right? And they seemed to have decent quarantine methods, so the only people carrying the virus on the Q Team would be those immune to its effects, or who got a milder form of the illness and then recovered. Considering how deadly Zolos is, there can't be many of those out there.”