DEAD IN BED By Bailey Simms: The Complete Second Book

PART 8, AUTHOR'S NOTE - 2/5/15, 3:57pm

I wish I could make a better estimate about the length of time the van had been travelling, because I know that would be useful information. But my head was wrapped in a garbage bag, I was handcuffed to the wall, and I could barely keep a thought in my head other than the sensation of dread. So, really, I can't honestly say how long it was. Fifteen hours? Twenty hours? I think we stopped three times, probably for gas, but I can't even be totally sure about that number. I'm sorry. I'm so useless.

What I do remember, though, is Kyle trying to call out to me. But with the roar of the U-Haul speeding down who knows what road, and with the heavy bags over our heads, it was impossible to make out anything he said.

For a while after that, he was quiet, and I thought he'd given up. Then he reached out to touch me with his foot. I jumped when I felt his shoe brush against my ankle, but then I realized it was him. He lifted his foot, then touched it down against my ankle. Then he did it again. And again.

He was tapping out a message, I realized, using our code.

"l... u... v      u."

I started crying.

"b      s... t... r... o... n... g"

In that moment, connected to Kyle by that fragile link, I made a decision. Whatever happened, I was going to survive this. I had chosen this life with Kyle, and I wasn't going to let anyone take it away, not my dad, and not this strange cop. It was my life, and I was going to live out the rest of it on my terms, nobody else's.

In the last few hours of the trip, there were a lot of twists and turns in the road. And it started to get really cold. I can see now that this must have been because we were climbing into the mountains—which mountains, though, I have no idea. In the very last couple of hours things got so bumpy that we must have been on a dirt road somewhere.

Then, finally, we stopped. When the cop opened the U-Haul's door, a rush of cold air flooded in. He unlocked me from the rail, cuffed my wrists back together, and picked me up in his arms.

I didn't resist. I couldn't. I barely had the energy to keep my head upright. My whole body was stiff from the cold and aching. Even if I did manage to get away from him, I still would have been helplessly blinded by the bag over my head and bound by handcuffs in a totally strange place.

I felt him open a door and carry me inside somewhere. Then up a flight of stairs. He laid me on a what felt like a bed.

There was a moment of silence. I felt something pressing into my hand.

It was cold, and sharp. At first I couldn't tell what it was. Then I realized that it was a key for the handcuffs. I closed my fingers around it, and held on.

And just like that, the cop left. That was it. He closed the door quietly. Then I heard him lock it. Without a single word, he was gone.

By the time I warmed up enough and was able to summon the energy to accomplish the surprisingly difficult task of unlocking a pair of handcuffs behind my back, another hour must have passed, at least.

But, finally, I got the cuffs off. I tore the plastic bag from my head.

And here I was.

In this pale, bare room. With pretty much nothing but this computer screen staring at me from the desk.

Now that I'm finally posting this message, I realize that I have no idea what I'm supposed to do now. The cop hasn't returned, and there's no message of any kind, anywhere.

I have no idea where Kyle is, or if he's okay. I keep going over the moment when the cop practically suffocated him. Honestly, I'm too terrified to think about what might be happening to him right now while I'm typing this.

All I know is that I can't just sit here waiting around. Now that I've managed to post all of this, I need to put every ounce of my energy into figuring out how to escape. It's a long, long way back to LA. But the first step is finding Kyle. I have no idea how I'm going to do that, or even how I'm going to get out of this room. As far as I see it, though, I really have no other choice than to find a way.

Bailey