Page 64 of Stolen Omega

It’s getting warm, and I’m starting to feel like I need to pee. Add on top of that the constant urge to stretch my body that can’t be accommodated, and I’m starting to understand Harvey’s reservations about this transport box. It was never made to be used for anything more than short journeys, and I’m starting to wish I’d gone with more people knowing and having the box be opened on the tour bus, than having as few people know about it as possible.

That choice was supposed to keep me safer from an attempt like this one, but clearly, it doesn’t matter how many people know, it matters that the right people are the only ones who know.

The ride is smoother for a while, but once the road gets bumpy again, it stays that way, and the more time that passes, the less likely it feels that the night is going to have a happy ending.

If I survive, there’s no way in hell I’m ever getting in this box again.

My stomach churns as the journey goes on, making me thankful that it’s empty.

There’s not much to be grateful for right now, but that’s at least something.

I need to find a way to stay calm.

Letting my thoughts go dark isn’t going to help me get through this.

I take in a few slow, deep breaths. Staying positive is the best thing I can do, even if it feels like I’m trapped in an impossible situation, and I’m shaking with fear at the thought of what’s coming next.

There’s a way out of this. There’s always a way out.

Please, God, let there be a way out.

My eyes fill with tears, but I refuse to let them fall. I need to stay strong.

Panicking over what’s going to happen next isn’t going to help me.

It definitely didn’t help the first time he took me.

Those words cut through the darkness like a knife, slicing open a memory I lost a long time ago.

I gasp in a breath as the thought registers as a buried truth.

I was abducted.

Oh my God!

The flash of memory that floods my brain makes chills run down my spine. I was nine years old. It was late, and I couldn’t sleep. The shadows from outside the window were freaking me out. I thought there was a monster coming for me, and it turned out I was right.

Someone got in through the window. A man dressed in black, wearing a mask.

I froze in place, telling myself it was my imagination.

Monsters aren’t real. This isn’t really happening.

But it was happening.

I was snatched from my bed and taken away from my home.

Thrown into the trunk of a car, where I suddenly snapped out of my fright and started to move and scream for help. If only I’d screamed sooner, maybe then someone would have heard me. It was too late by the time I tried to get help. The kidnapper put a wet rag over my mouth, and I panicked wildly as I fought to get away from him. I inhaled the chloroform deeply and passed out before I could get out of that trunk.

The last thing I remember was hearing the trunk being slammed shut.

That’s where the memory ends.

As the fear of that younger version of me fills me up and transfers her wild panic to me, I slap at the lid of the custom built case I’m trapped inside.

I need to get the hell out of here!

Now. Before something terrible happens.

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