Taken - Before her very Eyes (5 page)

Watching the Mercedes disappear
down the country road, she slowed the car and cautiously made the turn onto the
narrow lane. The road was sunken down as if they’d cut a path straight through
the rising hills of the countryside. The earth rose up on both sides, towering
over the hood of the car. There was only one way in and no room to turn around,
except for the small clearing at the bottom of the ravine.

Once the road dipped downward,
she lost view of the kidnapper’s car. She realized that he could stop and
backtrack, but that was a chance she had to take. After all, she’d taken this
road a few times during pursuits and always came out ahead. She laughed,
thinking about his downfall, then remembered what was at stake—Sabrina.

Her adrenalin surged. She was
going to stop him, but then what? He had a knife and she had nothing.

She couldn’t worry about that.
She’d have to deal with it when it happens. Her real concern was her muscle
spasms. They seemed to be subsiding during the chase, but she wondered what would
happen when she came face to face with him. Would she find herself crumbling on
the ground, battling her own body, or would her training take over and her
reflexes kick back in?

“Worry about that later,” Summer
muttered. “Stop them first, disarm him and get Sabrina back.”

The narrow lane dipped suddenly
and the farmer’s fields gave way to the small saplings that grew uncontested in
the shallow ravine. Straggly, bare branches poked up from the water soaked
banks of the small stream, which surged over the drain tubes and onto the
roadway. Muddy water sprayed from the soaked gravel, splashing up and over the
hood. The Volvo slid in the mud, but regained traction as the tires gripped
dryer gravel on the other side. Summer hurried and flicked on the wipers, then
gunned the engine. The car tore up the hill, rocketing toward the intersecting
road.

“Only a few more seconds.” She
felt great. Back to her old self. Back to her cop self.

She narrowed her eyes, squinting
at the long narrow objects on the road ahead.

“Shit!” Suddenly she didn’t feel
like her old self anymore. She felt like an idiot. How could she fall for this?
How could she let herself be caught like this? Summer slammed on the brakes,
but she was travelling too fast to stop. Her tires hit the spike belts and all
four exploded.

The car lurched from side to
side, banging off the raised earth walls. It rode up one side, then fell back
only to try to climb the other. She managed to make it fifty feet before coming
to a stop. Another twenty and she would’ve been blocking the intersection, but
he’d known that and calculated it perfectly.

The headlights of the Mercedes
sliced through the darkness up ahead, illuminating the falling raindrops.
Summer watched as the car slowed, passing through the intersection. The Volvo’s
headlights spotlighted Sabrina’s face in the side window. Her red, swollen eyes
were pleading for help.

Summer felt raging anger fill her
body at being outsmarted. She pushed against the driver’s door and it opened
six inches then stuck in the wet muck beside. She gripped the door and squeezed
halfway out before slipping in the mud and slamming her chin down on the top of
the door.

The rain continued to fall,
blurring her vision as Sabrina disappeared from sight. Summer lowered her head
and her chest heaved as she started to cry.

The smell of exhaust hung in the
air, filling Dean’s nostrils as he gasped for breath. He stood hunched over,
holding tight to his stomach as the warm blood oozed over his clenched fingers.
When the white Volvo disappeared into the darkness, he’d glanced around the
empty street. Nobody was in sight. The street was deserted thanks to the
pouring rain which rinsed the crimson blood from his fingers, pooling it around
his feet.

The pain from the wound was
subsiding and Dean knew this was not a good sign. He’d lost a lot of blood and
if he stood there waiting for help to arrive, by the time someone noticed, he’d
be long dead.

“Hel…” He started to call out,
but the exertion only reignited the pain. Wiping the rain water from his eyes,
Dean spotted the glass enclosed telephone booth down the street. With his cell
phone still in the Mercedes, this was his last chance to survive. Slowly he
staggered to the first parking meter, eyeing the crutches toward the phone.

Why? Why now? Dean couldn’t believe
this was really happening. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Two minutes,
that’s all it was supposed to take. Swoop in and sweet talk Summer into another
night with Sabrina then make a quick getaway.

He’d heard about the capture of
Summer’s attacker—John Scott they said his name was. He was captured last night
and Dean knew Summer would be in no condition to take care of Sabrina today. He
knew her mind would be reliving those painful memories and Dean couldn’t blame
her. The moment he’d heard about John Scott’s capture he felt the newly
intensified mixture of anger, sorrow and pity that he’d felt daily for the last
five months. He shook his head and glanced down at his blood covered hand
gripping his stomach.

This is all my fault. I should’ve
been more careful. I should never have agreed to take that shipment. But how
was I to know they hid drugs inside that shit.

The booth was ten feet away, two
parking meters to go before he could call for help, but his head was swimming
and his thoughts were sinking in the murkiness. If only he could go back in
time and erase the last five months of his life. Everything had been so perfect
back then. He and Summer were still so much in love and Summer was so eager to
conceive a second child. They’d talked about it for months and were in the
midst of a maddingly fevered pace of love making that he thought he’d died and
gone to heaven. Everything was perfect… until…

Dean lunged from the last parking
meter to the side of the phone booth. His hand slid to the corner and almost
slipped off, leaving a bloody smear across the glass. He staggered and rested
his body against the corner of the booth and tried to stop the spinning in his
mind. A second later he rolled around the corner and burst through the swinging
doors, falling inside the booth. The sound of the downpour on the glass walls
was almost deafening, but at least he could see now without the cascading water
flowing down his face.

Dean reached up, grabbed the
metal shelf then raised himself. He knocked the phone from the cradle, letting
it bounce off the shelf and rap against the glass wall. Quickly he gathered the
last bit of strength and punched in the three numbers then collapsed, sliding
down the wall, coming to rest beside the dangling receiver.

He couldn’t help but feel that
this was all his fault. If it wasn’t for his business contacts then Sabrina
would be happily on her way home right now instead of… Dean squeezed his eyes
tight, refusing to even imagine what was going to happen to his little girl.
He’d seen what that fucker, John Scott had done to Summer and his gut churned
just thinking what would happen to his little girl.

The wind picked up, whipping in
every direction, slamming fat raindrops against the sides of the booth. He was
soaked and cold. Every ounce of strength zapped on his journey down to this
corner.

The phone twisted and banged off
his temple before he managed to trap it against the wall. He listened as it
rang through, but his mind drifted to the glass door. It was covered with red
smudges—his finger prints illuminated against the streetlights.

“At least he didn’t hit the
aorta,” Dean muttered. “Or I’d be dead by now.” He felt the searing pain as he
reduced the pressure on the cut and glanced down to see the blood trickle over
his fingers, pooling in the crotch of his pants. “But the stupid fucker cut me
bad.”

A second ring came and went and
Dean wondered if he’d dialled the right number. “Three numbers. How the hell
could I get that wrong?” Just as he finished muttering, a woman’s voice came on
the line.

“Nine, one, one, what’s your
emergency?”

“I’ve…” Dean cleared his throat.
“I’ve been stabbed.”

“What’s your location, sir?”

“Um… downtown.” Dean glanced at
the street sign. “Corner of King and Forsyth. I’m in a—”

“Is the attacker still there?”

“No—No, he kidnapped my
daughter.”

“Sorry, he did what?”

“He stole my car.” Dean swallowed
hard. “And… took my daughter.”

“Hold on a second,” she said, and
without waiting she left the line.

Dean heard a muffled conversation
and wondered what the hell she was doing
“Hey! Didn’t you hear me, my
dau—”

“Sorry, I was just confirming
another call that came in.”

“Summer,” Dean whispered.

“An off-duty officer is in
pursuit of the vehicle, a red Mercedes, as we speak.”

Dean felt his stomach drop. He
couldn’t believe Summer was still chasing him. That she might actually capture
him and get Sabrina back.

“Where is she?”

“Sorry, I can’t say.”

Dean pushed his foot against the
opposite glass wall, raising himself closer to the mouthpiece. “She’s my wife!
Tell me where she is!”

He thought about what would
happen if Summer did stop him. She was unarmed. He was sure of it. They’d taken
her gun as a precaution—for her own safety. And this maniac had a knife and who
knows what else.

“No, really, I can’t say. The
call was cut off.”

Maybe she did catch him? Maybe he
overpowered her? Dean thought of how strong she used to be. She’d always been a
fighter. Strong, capable, even brutal in her self defence, but something
happened to strip all that away. Something bad—bad enough to tame a Pit Bull.

He shook his head, remembering
the way she had coward away from him in the hospital after the attack. It was
as if his own hands had done the damage. As if somehow he’d been responsible.

“Sir, the operator who took the
call said it ended during the pursuit, as if her phone died.”

Dean felt relived. Felt
temporarily satisfied that Summer was all right. The distant sound of sirens
echoed through the empty streets.

“Sir, the ambulance is en route.
Please stay where you are and they’ll arrive in just one minute.” Dean hooked
the door with his foot then gave a hard yank, swinging it open and hitting his
other leg. Ignoring the pain in his stomach, he struggled out of the booth.

The rain felt good cascading down
on his face. Maybe it was from the loss of blood, or maybe it was from the
stress, but his entire world was swirling past his eyes. He crawled his way to
the sidewalk bench as the red flashing lights illuminated the distant store
fronts. Although the ambulance was getting closer, Dean hardly noticed the
sirens anymore.

Throwing his free hand up, he
clasped onto the back of the bench and hoisted himself to his knees. The pain
was subsiding and he felt like he could probably stand and walk down to the oncoming
rescue, but as he struggled to his feet, he collapsed down onto the hard metal
bench. The impact jarred his ribs, knocking the air from his lungs. Dean fell
flat out on his back, arms flaying down, letting the blood run free.

“Fucking asshole cut me deep,” he
muttered as the bright red light of the ambulance bounced off the phone booth.
He heard the shouts of the paramedics as they jumped from their vehicle and ran
to his side. He could also hear a few murmured gasps from onlookers who’d
decided to come from the warmth and safety of their apartments, stirred from
their comfort by the sirens.

Dean saw the faces of the two
paramedics floating above. Heard their incoherent voices drifting away. Felt
the numb pressure of their hands on his belly. Tasted the acidic rain as it
fell from the sky to his partially open mouth. Smelt the blood—his blood as
they tried to stop it from spilling. But as everything unfolded, his mind kept
returning to the same thing—Sabrina.

Fat raindrops fell straight to
the earth, splashing hard against Summer’s head, plastering her blond hair flat
against her scalp. She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there with the
car door propped open, but she knew it felt like an eternity.

The tightness in her chest had
returned. She tried to breathe deep and relax, but she couldn’t. Nothing would
take away the pain until she held Sabrina in her trembling arms.

“What have I done? What the hell
have I done! I should’ve protected her more. I should’ve known someone would
target her to get to me.” Summer shook her head and slowly slid back inside the
car. She picked the phone from the seat and glanced at the black display.
“Piece of shit,” she muttered, tucking it into her purse.

After climbing over the console,
she opened the passenger door, hoping it wouldn’t get stuck. As it swung open
wide, she climbed out, stepping down into a deep rut. The water raced down the
road and pooled in the rut, gushing over her running shoe. She froze only
momentarily, fighting to keep the anger inside, refusing to scream in rage.

“It’s nothing. Only water.”
Summer drew a deep breath. “Gotta get to the highway and find help. Gotta get
Sabrina back.”

When her other shoe started to
take on water, she cursed softly and began climbing the hill. She knew the most
direct route to help was across the empty field. It’d be tough going with all
the mud, but it would save a lot of time over backtracking down the dirt roads.
The water squished from her shoes as Summer reluctantly set her foot into the
thick mud, feeling it gush over the top of the runner. She took large steps,
managing to find a few rocks to step on as she made her way up the hill, but
slipped nearing the top of the embankment. Her hand grasped a tangle of weeds, preventing
her from falling flat on her face, but her purse slid down her arm and landed
with a splat beside.