Page 203 of The Vacation Mix-Up
“Do it! Now!” He leans closer and presses something hard into my side, just below my ribcage. “Or I’ll blow that pretty head of yours off.”
Dread freezes me solid, a single breath too distressing to take as I stare dead ahead, my heart manic within my chest.
“No sudden movements, and keep your mouth shut,” he hisses again, his breath stale and pungent.
Bile rises to my throat, and I force my trembling hands to release my bag from my shoulder.
“Hurry the fuck up.”
“O-Okay,” I choke out. “P-Please don’t hurt me.”
He snatches it and tucks it into his jacket. “Don’t fucking move. And don’t say another word.”
Terrified, I blink back tears and nod, desperate to stay as still and as quiet as possible.
“Look down,” he demands as the train slows to pull to a stop. “If you try anything, I’ll fucking kill you.”
Closing my eyes, I pray to God, to Mom… to anybody listening.
Please! I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.
I have so much to live for now: a life with Riley, to make Mom proud, to makemeproud. And all of it could be ripped away with the single pull of a trigger. A subtle movement. A split-second decision.
Head spinning, I try to calm my breathing for fear of passing out, so I open my eyes and take a deep breath, the pain in my arm subsiding, the seat beside me… empty.
What? Where is he?
I frantically scan the car as the doors close, and the train pulls away, my eyes catching sight of him on the platform, casually ambling by the window as if he’s just any other commuter.
“Oh my God!” I say on an exhale, a sob ripping from my throat.
Cowering, my shoulders wrack uncontrollably as I release every ounce of fear I’d suppressed.
You’re alive, Riley. Breathe. Just breathe.
“Uh… are you okay?” a woman asks.
Wiping my face, I look up to where she’s standing beside me with a man, both of them stumbling as the brakes on the train release. “Y-Yes. I mean no. I was just robbed at gunpoint.”
She immediately sits opposite me. “Are you hurt?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“Thank goodness,” she says, glancing up at the man with her.
I nod, continuing to take deep breaths.
“Is he still here, on the train?” the man asks, eyes sweeping the car.
“N-No. He just left.”
They both relax a little, and I wish I could do the same, my entire body quaking.
“What’s your name?” the woman asks.
“R-Riley.”
“I’m Nya, and this is Perry.”
