Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Heart racing, I swallow hard and slump back in my makeshift bed. There are worse ways to start the day.
A regular text comes in from an unknown number. I’ve been thinking about what you said and I have information I think you would be interested in. Can we meet tonight? HM. Right after, he sends an address and a time.
Well, that's unexpected. HM. Hank Mullerby. It has to be.
But why? What made him change his mind suddenly and decide he wants to talk to me? Does he really want to do the right thing? Right from the start I was sure that if something was going on, he wasn’t the only one. If his record was better than average, he might be taking money on the side and splitting it with a prosecutor or a judge, but worse than average? Who would pay to go to jail longer? No, but someone has to have something to gain or it wouldn’t be happening.
It could be a trap.
But if he's got information that can help free Danny, I have to check it out. I check the address he sent. It's a little out of the way, but not a bad part of town or anything. Pretty close to the college, actually. I can get there with a short bus ride when I’m done with my last class.
I can't say no.
I tap out a quick reply, saying I'll be there.
A few hours later, I'm getting off the bus, looking around like a spy on a mission. Meghan’s stuck at work tonight and she’s not thrilled about me going alone, but it is what it is. I've got one hand on the pepper spray in my pocket, and the other on my phone, following the map to our meeting spot.
The street is pretty busy near the bus stop, but it gets quiet fast. Quieter than I like. The street the map sends me down isn’t an alley exactly, but it’s not much more than that, either. A chill of unease settles in my bones, and I half consider turning to make a run for it. This is definitely the kind of risk Danny warned me about, but nothing worthwhile is without risk. And Danny's worthwhile, even if he doesn't agree.
I text a ping to Meghan, just to show where I am, and she responds with a thumbs up, almost immediately.
The corner Mullerby indicated is empty. There's a streetlight there, but the bulb is out, so I hang back at the one before it, which is still throwing unnatural yellow-white light on the street. In a city, it's never completely dark, with ambient light from apartment windows, stores, billboards, whatever, but this is probably about as close as it gets. I'm getting a bad feeling about this.
He's not even here. I should go home before something happens.
But then there's movement. I peer towards the corner. There’s a figure about Mullerby’s height in a baseball cap. He’s facing the other way, and standing in the circle of darkness created by the broken light. He waves, beckoning me to come closer. Why doesn't he come over here instead, where we can see each other? There's no one else here, either way.
Clutching my pepper spray tight, I move closer.
“Mr. Mullerby?”
A massive hand grabs my face from behind, pressing its palm into my mouth and muffling my surprised gurgle. I'm dragged into a hard, unforgiving embrace as whoever grabbed me puts a steely arm around my waist and locks me in place with my arms pinned to my side. My fingers brush the pepper spray, but I can’t move enough for it to do any good. Unless I can wrench loose from this guy, who's got to be three times my size, I won’t get the chance to use it.
God, how could I be so stupid?
The person I thought was Mullerby moves closer. It isn’t him. It’s a man with pitiless eyes staring out at me through a white, featureless mask. “Don’t fight back and this will go a hell of a lot easier on you.”
“Or do, and it’ll be a lot more fun for us,” chuckles the man holding me.
My panic spikes, and I get a surge of adrenaline that gives me a momentary glimmer of hope. I lurch backwards and try to twist a foot around his leg. It doesn’t work, but I do manage to kick him pretty hard in the shin.
He hisses and let's out a harsh “Fuck!”
But he doesn’t let go. Instead, he lifts me right off the ground, removing what little leverage I had. I swing my legs, but all I kick is air.
I should’ve listened to Danny, or been smart enough to at least wait until I had someone to come with me.
“Fucking bitch.”
“Later. We need to move before someone comes by.”
A moment later, a cloth bag is thrown over my head and tightened around my neck. Not enough to choke, but tight enough to constantly remind me that all they need to do is tug the straps to make that a reality. A car door opens, and I'm shoved into a back seat. I’m boxed in between two people, both a lot bigger than me from the feel of it. I feel small and pathetic, and I'm doing my best to not cry. I don't want to give them that satisfaction, and I need to keep my head clear. If an opportunity presents itself, I have to take it.