Page 2 of Last Chance

The nearest hijackers clubbed him on the side of the head with the butt of his weapon. “Silence!”

The hostage dropped to the floor, clutching the side of his head.

“Up.” The hijacker kicked the hostage in the side and pointed his gun at the fallen man. “On your feet or I’ll shoot you.”

Two other male hostages reached down and hauled the injured man to his feet and held him steady as they moved toward the exit.

Shaken, Janie edged away from the hijackers as she passed them. Near the exit, she still felt their gazes burning into her back.

She fell in behind the other hostages and descended the stairs. Once on the tarmac, two more armed men herded them toward a delivery van.

Janie stared at the vehicle in disbelief. Fifty people wouldn’t fit inside that van.

One hijacker near the van motioned with his gun for the women to climb into the back. One by one, Janie and the others complied. Soon, ten men joined them, including the man who had been seated beside her. Guess the hostages had figured out controlling 50 people would be a problem long term. Because the van had no windows in the back, Janie and the others sat in darkness and heat.

Definitely a tropical climate. Hot and humid. Despite the uncomfortable temperature, Janie shivered. How would anyone find them? As far as she knew, neither she nor her fellow hostages had anything with them. No cell phones or other devices with the capability of contacting authorities and asking for help. If they escaped, where would they go? How would they reach help?

She wished she had a map stuffed in a pocket. Not that it would do her much good. Janie couldn’t find her way out of a wet paper bag with neon signs lit up, pointing her in the right direction.

“What do these creeps want?” one woman asked in a shaky voice. “I have money. I can pay ransom.”

“If you’re smart, you won’t mention that,” snapped one man. “They might take the money and dump your body in the jungle.”

Several of the women gasped. Janie flinched. The guy was probably right, but saying as much to an already terrified woman wouldn’t help matters.

A woman near Janie sobbed. “I just want to go home to my husband and children, but we don’t have any money. I used up all our savings to be by my mother’s bedside in the hospital.”

Janie reached to her right and wrapped her hand around the other woman’s. “All we can do is wait to find out what they want and remain calm. Don’t antagonize them.”

“They have to let us go,” another woman chimed in. “This isn’t fair.”

A man to Janie’s left said, “Some terrorists make a living by taking hostages and demanding ransom for them. They don’t care about the hostages at all, just the money.”

The hostages fell silent for a while. A woman finally said, “It’s getting hot back here. Why don’t they turn on the air conditioning?”

Another man grunted. “This old van probably doesn’t have it.”

“Be grateful we’re not walking to wherever they’re taking us,” another said.

“Don’t give them any ideas,” a woman said, bitterness in her voice.

More silence as the road on which they traveled grew bumpier, jarring each of them. Several hard turns tossed them around the back of the van like pinballs in a machine.

On and on they traveled. No way to tell where they were going or how far they had traveled. Janie hated traveling blind. Then again, maybe not being able to see was better. What if the kidnappers were taking them somewhere with horrid conditions?

No point in speculating. She’d find out when they reached their destination. Why scare herself even more before she knew the facts?

The woman to Janie’s right whispered, “Do you think they’re going to kill us?”

“If they want money, a dead hostage won’t do them any good.”

That seemed to satisfy her. The information was a poor comfort under the circumstances.

“I hope you’re right.”

Janie squeezed her hand. So did she.

A long time later, the van slowed and came to a stop.

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