Deeper and Deeper we trek into the woods. We must be at least almost two miles in by now as my throat begins to feel parch. What does he want with me and why me? I keep asking myself as I focus on hatching a plan.
He showed up minutes after I got home from work. I had thought he was a salesman when I answered the door. “Sorry, I’m not interested in buying whatever you’re selling.” Looking down at my phone, I began to shut the door but he pressed his strong arm against the door. “Sir, let go of my door. I am not interested.” I said firmly.
He grinned. “Oh, but you will be.” He grabbed and pocketed my phone. Then he grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the house.
I tried to free myself but he was too strong. “Let go!”
He pulled me toward the trail behind my house where he finally let go. “Walk.” He ordered. I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. It was as though my feet were frozen in place. “Move!” He shouted, simultaneously pulling a gun from behind.
I gasped, still frozen in place. It was like my body was caught between fight and flight. Then shakily, I obeyed.
This was my favorite trail especially during this time of the year because of the abundance of autumnal colors. I couldn’t enjoy any of it today. I must focus. You must keep your breath steady. I thought to myself. Keep your head leveled. You can get out of this.
Why me? What did I ever do to this guy to deserve this? Is he just a psychopath who picked his victims randomly so he could just throw his feelings out the door and watch his victims suffer in pleasure?
Quietly, I blew out a breath as I felt the gun nudge me in the back. As I began to feel the calm, my brain began to spin, quicker than I could ever imagine, and within a few seconds, a plan was hatched. That’s it, I thought. I know this trail like the palm of my hand. Why didn’t I think of this sooner? Slowly, my lips curled into a smile. Just a little deeper.
At last, we arrive at the spot. I pretend to trip on a rock. “Get up,” He orders, standing inches from me, pointing the gun. Ceasing my chance, I clench my teeth and kick him in the groin as hard as I can. He lets out a howl of pain and drops the gun.
The next few seconds would go by like a choreographed dance move. I grab the gun and find myself standing. The roles has been reverse – he’s down, I’m up. “Of all the people you could’ve picked and you picked me.” I say as I take off the safety. “Wrong choice.”
A loud bang later, he falls limp. Surprisingly calm, I wipe the fingerprints from the handle and toss it into the deep cavern thirty feet away. From his pocket, I retrieve my phone before pushing his body into the depth of the cavern where he will never be found.