Page 63 of Catching Fire

Chapter Thirty-Nine

“Agh!” Seline called out, a cross between a yell and a groan as her head knocked against the hard surface above her.

What she’d hit, she couldn't tell, but she didn’t have time to figure it out. She was immediately jolted again. This time, she curled into a tight ball, cushioning her head with her arms.

Her first thought was that getting her head slammed around would only make her make poor decisions. And she didn't know where she was or what was happening, but she knew she was in trouble. The ominous thought permeated her brain,there would be no room for bad decisions.

The small space bounced again, the hit coming from her left hand side and popping her into the air. She bounced against what she quickly realized was the top of a car trunk, then slammed back down onto the rough carpet surface.

“Ooof!” She fought the urge to pull her arms down and leave her skull more exposed to the knocks. She had to protect her head.

Luckily, the ride became a little smoother after that, if anything about being locked in a trunk could be consideredsmooth.

But as she fought her way through whatever lingering haze clouded her brain, she knew what to do: Pull the latch or kick out a light.

The bumps and jostles kept coming, though they were smaller now, and she couldn’t figure out what that meant. But it might mean she was running out of time. She would fare better if she left the trunk of her own accord rather than someone taking her out of it, so she reached up to feel for the latch.

When she found it in the center middle of the trunk, she grabbed it, ready to pop the back open, but she paused.

Someone had put her in this trunk and when she opened it, whoever was driving would know she was awake and getting away. She needed to be ready to pop out and hit the ground running.

That was assuming the driver was the only other person in the car with her. Another option was that the driver had no idea a person was in his trunk, but she didn’t put much stock in that thought. In fact, she had a pretty damned good idea whose trunk she was locked inside and she was pissed about it.

If it was Sanders, he was going to kill her. Seline had gotten only the briefest look at the man in the parking garage before he grabbed her arm. Though she’d tried to wrench away—a pure reactionary move—she’d felt the prick at the side of her neck.

That fucker had drugged her and put her in a trunk!

She wasn’t going to stay here. Moving her feet, she checked her mobility. She wasn't taped up. He must have thought she'd stay out for longer than she did. What she wouldn't give for that tracker right now, but she couldn’t dwell on the things she didn’t have. Maybe they could follow her phone signal.

Seline had to stay focused on the things she could do.

The bumps weren’t too bad now. It didn't feel like the car was moving that fast, so now was the time and she would have to take her chances. She ran the scenario in her mind, her hand still clutching the emergency trunk latch far too tightly.

If he was going to chase after her, he'd have to slow the car down enough for him to get out. The car would have to come to a stop before he could do that, so she just had to get a head start. She could do that.

Three …

Two …

One.

She yanked hard on the pull tab and watched as the trunk swung open wide. The daylight hit her making her head snap back and her eyes squeeze closed in self preservation. She hadn't been prepared for the blinding brightness, but it didn't matter if she was prepared or not. This was William Treat Sanders, and he was going to carve her up while she was still alive.

She could feel the car beginning to swerve. He’d clearly seen the trunk fly up, probably blocking his view in the rearview mirror. It was now or never, so Seline swung her feet up and out over the back, watching the gravel pass underneath. Of course it was gravel. She'd most likely twist an ankle, but she'd run on it anyway.

She quickly shucked her shoes—stupid heels—but held onto them tightly. She was going barefoot.

Three …

Two …

Fait chier!

She jumped. Hitting the ground and curling into a ball, she managed to roll instead of taking the hit full on. But it still didn’t feel great.

Behind her, she heard the tires grinding into the loose road as the car careened and slowed. With the trunk gaping wide, she couldn’t see the driver at all, but she didn’t need to. She was far enough back that, when the spinning of the tires spit the gravel back toward her, only a few pieces made it far enough to hit her. The sting of them against her skin was motivation enough to get up and run.

She still held her high heels, so that was good. But she was on the run in stocking feet on gravel.Too bad. It still wasn’t worse than facing Sanders, so she took off through the woods. Staying on the road would have been a death sentence.

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