Page 84 of Our Elliana

“Scream again and register man dies,” she bares her teeth at me and flashes a rectangular metal remote in my direction. Recognizing what it is, I gulp down any further noise as she bashes my phone again and again, breaking the protective outer casing into bits.

Why am I so stupid? Why didn’t I check the fucking peephole?

Despite exerting herself, Tanya shows barely any strain as she raises to her feet and kicks the remnants of my cell beneath my workbench. She replaces her wig back on her scalp and peers over at me with that infantile pout and blank gaze. The effect is downright eerie.

“Now, you’re going to walk in front of me and act as though everything’s fine, aren’t you? Remember, one word that might tip him off and kaboom.” Tanya pantomimes a massive explosion, and numbly I nod, trying to think of any alternatives.

The windows in here aren’t the kind that open, so that’s a bust. My brain is sifting through one method of escape after another, but none of them has the slightest chance of not proving lethal to Andre.

Then, Tanya shoves the barrel of her pistol into my ribs and makes me lead her down the stairs. Before we enter the salesfloor, Tanya wraps an arm around my shoulders. I can still feel the gun poking into me, though I suspect she’s concealed it from view.

Andre glimpses up at us, and his jovial expression turns cautious. I know I have to handle this just right in order to spare his life. If Tanya finds anything fishy, it’s all over.

“Andre, this is an old friend from high school. I’m going out with her for some coffee,” I say this on the fly as Tanya propels us forward. I have a terrible feeling that this might be the last time I ever see him. The least I can do is keep him alive.

“Oh, okay, girlie girl. Have fun reminiscing.”

“We will, crazy boy.” Without moving my head, I glance over my shoulder to indicate Tanya, hoping he catches my altered code word without reacting.

You’re smart, Andre. Figure it out.

My BFF blinks at me in bewilderment, but it’s the best I can do. I can’t risk alerting him beyond what I’ve already said, or he might come vaulting over that counter and get himself killed. Hopefully, he’ll contact the police without giving away that he knows something is very wrong.

Tanya directs me out the entrance and into the alleyway beside it. Inside that alley is a dull orange-brown shithole of a car, which she shoves me toward.

Once inside, I detect the disturbing reek of mold and mildew realizing that must be what’s covering the inside of the doors and floorboards. It’s so disgusting inside that I have to stifle my gag reflex, but I don’t fight as Tanya pushes me into the backseat.

“Try to pull any kind of fast one, and I’ll trigger this.” Tanya displays the remote again. “It has an impressive range, believe me.”

I do. I’m too afraid not to.

Everything in me desperately wants to attempt an escape, but I don’t dare. Seconds later, my kidnapper is behind the wheel, but she’s watching me from her rearview. Hitting the accelerator, she careens out into the clogged D.C. traffic.

THIRTY-SIX: The Worst Day

NOAH

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