Chapter 6 Aria
ARIA
It feels like forever before a faint snore echoes from the far side of the cabin.
The tendons in my neck strain, and a tight pull tugs through my abdomen as I lift my head, just enough to see the couch.
A few deep breaths follow, slow and steady.
He’s slumped into the cushions, one arm hanging over the edge, completely still.
Good. He’s asleep.
I let my head fall back against the firm mattress and exhale a nervous breath. Now what?
The fire crackles beside me as I shift toward its low, glowing heat.
The thought of stepping back into the cold sends a wave of dread through me, but this might be my only shot.
He didn’t drive too far to get here. I don’t remember everything about the initial drive, but I can picture the path through the woods now.
A steep incline. A left turn just before the cabin.
I just have to make it that far without being seen.
The sky will lighten soon. If I’m lucky, someone might be on the road, maybe a driver headed to work or a delivery truck. But I won’t have long.
Holding a deep breath, I turn to my side, using my forearms and bound fists to lift myself upright. The bed creaks, and my eyes snap back to the couch.
He hasn’t moved. His eyes remain closed.
I’m still terrified, but fear won’t keep me still. Every movement counts. There’s no room for mistakes.
Exhaling a quiet, steady breath, I begin picking at the ropes around my wrists.
It doesn’t take long before frustration sets in.
This is hopeless. I square up my shoulders, refusing to give up, and try again, pulling on my hands until I manage to get enough slack to work with.
Loosening the ends with my fingers, I wiggle my hands until they turn purple and finally reach the knot.
Slowly, I begin to undo it, my heartbeat slamming against my chest.
Euphoria floods me as I free my hands, then quickly move to my ankles, repeating the process.
The pink polish on my nails shines, mocking me of my life mere hours ago as I work my fingers through the other knot, ploddingly making progress, each tug dragging on endlessly until it finally comes apart.
And for the first time, I let myself breathe.
But the second that breath settles, the polish catches my eye again, soft and strangely out of place under the dim firelight.
My chest aches thinking of Clara. I can’t imagine what today will be like for her and Kelsey when they go downstairs looking for me, only to find Mrs. Shaw hanging from the ceiling.
My stomach churns.
This will all be over soon. I’m almost out of here.
I push the ropes aside and circle my wrists, coaxing blood back into my hands before slowly, very carefully, rising to my feet.
My eyes drift to the door, then snap back to the couch.
This would be so much easier if he left his keys out, but I guess I’m not that lucky.
I study him from across the room, weighing whether it’s worth the risk to check his pockets.
But fear keeps me rooted. There’s no way I’m stupid enough to go anywhere near him, asleep or not.
Time is slipping, and the longer I stall, the slimmer my chance becomes.
On silent feet, I inch toward the door, wincing each time the floorboards creak.
My muddied slippers lie a few inches apart, one flipped over on its side from when he tackled me.
I slide them on and keep moving. The space between me and the door stretches like a hallway in a nightmare.
Each step feels taunting, endless, distorted.
When I finally reach it, a prickle climbs my spine, and I twist my neck around, catching one last glimpse of my abductor.
This is it. I twist the knob slowly, my eyes locked on his resting face, praying he doesn’t wake now that I’ve come this far.
Then the door opens.
I did it.
He doesn’t stir.
The blood pumps erratically through my veins, distracting me from the gust of wind that hits me head-on. I ease the door closed behind me, not daring to breathe until it clicks shut with a quiet finality.
That sound is all it takes to drive me forward.
I bolt.
Adrenaline barrels through me as I tear into the open, the cabin vanishing behind me.
Each slap of my slipper-covered feet against the frozen ground echoes with urgency.
No hesitation. Only fear. The need to disappear before he opens his eyes numbs me to every sharp branch, every jagged root, every bramble that lashes at my skin.
Pandemonium breaks loose inside my head, a war cry of instinct and panic, impossible to silence.
My eyes sting against the icy breeze, but I don’t stop.
Moisture from the ground seeps into my slippers, numbing my toes.
My legs burn. My lungs ache. Leaves whip past my ankles.
Wind tears at my clothes. The forest swallows me whole, the paths all converging into one endless maze, twisting and constricting, forming an inescapable labyrinth.
My foot snags on something buried beneath the leaves and muck. I yelp, both hands thrusting out to catch my fall. The cold ground pummels my skin, moisture seeping into my shorts, palms burning from the impact. I scramble upright, knees raw, vision tilting. I don’t let it slow me. I can’t.
Every second that ticks by is a second closer to being caught. The wind screeches as I push forward, long shadows lunging past, guiding me through an endless circuit of trees that feels like it is starting to cage me in.
Until finally, just ahead, the trees begin to thin. Sparse trunks open to what looks like a clearing, and through the gaps, the first flicker of early light breaks the darkness.
For the first time, something flutters in my chest, feathery and light, like I’ve grown wings and can finally soar through the last few yards.
I’m going to make it out of here.
Relief floods my lungs as the trees break open and the gravel-strewn path comes into view, my limbs crying out beneath me as I push forward. Almost there.
A pale band of light stretches across the horizon by the time I stumble out of the trees. My feet barely carry me as I reach the road, my body folding inward, hands clutched to my chest as I choke on the frigid air.
Breathing hurts. Everything hurts.
Birds chirp overhead, but aside from that and the wind lashing against my skin, it’s silent.
Just me and a wide, empty stretch of nothing.
My shoulders sink as I wrap my arms around myself, teeth chattering while I trudge along the narrow road.
The longer I keep walking, the more the spark inside me starts to fade.
No one’s coming. Cars apparently don’t come this way.
Swallowing against the rising lump in my throat, I tip my head back to look at the sun, silently begging for its warmth to reach me.
Spring might be near, but it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it while I slog through ankle-deep slush and half-melted snow, wrapped in fabric designed for vanity, not survival.
Even my slippers offer me nothing, no warmth or comfort, the sherpa mottled and falling apart. I might as well be walking barefoot.
Emotions climb up my throat, stinging the back of my eyes as I pause in the middle of the road, watching the distance stretch and stretch.
I’m hungry and cold. My feet cramp from every step I take, ribs aching in agony, and it dawns on me just now how hopeless this all is.
He’s probably noticed I’m gone by now. And he’s got a car.
I’m practically live bait walking out here without the trees to shield me, the sun beaming down like a magnifying glass held over an ant, leaving me targeted, exposed, and seconds from being crushed.
A strangled sob slips from my parted lips, the air in front of me blowing out a plume of white as I give in. I break down, tears falling faster and faster as my nails dig into my elbows, the salty warmth of them the only heat against the overwhelming cold that surrounds me.
Then I jerk back at the sound of an engine, spinning around to find its headlights cutting through the early morning fog as it moves toward me.
My heart lurches, starting slow as I hold my breath and blink through tears, then slamming into my ribs in a rush of panicked bursts.
At first, I’m convinced it’s him. He’s found me, and he’s going to drag me away with him, stealing my last chance at freedom. But as the car draws closer, I realize the shape is off, the color gradually sharpening into view.
It’s a navy blue SUV. It’s not him.
Ignoring the sting in my lungs, I call out to it, renewed hope surging through me, helping me unclench my fingers and raise my arms high. In my rush of excitement, I stumble forward, nearly tripping over myself. The car slows, windows rolling down slightly.
“You okay?” the guy asks, concern knitting his brows, a melancholy frown across his pale, stubbled face. His hair is the color of champagne, soft and golden, like his stubble, like the warm fizz popping in my stomach. “Do you need help?”
I try to catch my breath, but my voice stays a tight rasp. “I need…help. Please.”
He briefly glances over my shoulder, like he’s checking to see if someone else is coming. He’s older. Maybe mid to late twenties.
When he doesn’t find anything suspicious, his gaze flicks back to me, sweeping over me from head to toe in one slow pass. “Jesus, you scared me. Running around dressed like that. What’s your name?” He scrubs at the stubble on his chin.
“I’m sorry,” I chatter, my teeth gnashing against each other. “My name is Aria. C-Can you take me to a police station or let me borrow your phone?”
He inhales deeply, the locks clicking open. “Get inside before you get sick.”
“Thank you.” I shuffle around the car, my legs struggling to keep up, and climb in without hesitation, a weight lifting off my chest. “Thank you so much.”
I huddle close to the warm air spilling from the dash vent, my hands fisted under my chin as they defrost from the cold. He doesn’t drive straight away, instead reaching for his phone, probably to call the police for help.
He clicks his tongue before setting it back down on the console between us. Dread seeps into the space.
Something feels wrong—very wrong. Unnerving
“Unfortunately, there’s no service out here,” he says, low and even, his calm tone anything but reassuring.
“Oh.” My throat closes up, my voice barely a squeak. “Okay.”
It’s okay. Everything will be fine. I’m safe now.
I shut my eyes and wet my parched lips, my tongue scraping against the surface that’s already peeling. I’m too dazed to question anything further.
But then I see him shift out of the corner of my eye, and my heart slams into my chest, fast and violent.
“Good thing I found you before it was too late,” he says.
My nerves spike at the ominous tone, a chill running through me when he leans the other way to grab something. My ears start to ring, a loud warning siren screaming to get the hell out.
But it’s too late.
He’s on me before I can act. I scream, but it's muffled by a damp cotton cloth shoved hard over my mouth and nose, cutting off my breath. My lungs burn. I cry out into the cloth, thrashing my head back and forth, desperate to get away, but he holds me down, locking me in place, suffocating me.
The sickly-sweet scent of acetone floods my nostrils, reminding me of Clara and how she accidentally spilled nail polish on Kelsey’s sheets while we painted each other’s nails last night. I won’t ever see her again.
I won’t see anyone ever again.
Those are my final thoughts as my fight fails me, and my vision swarms with grainy black specks. The thudding in my chest gradually slows.
I stop convulsing in my seat and lose all fight as I slip into unconsciousness. The specs grow larger and larger until, finally, the dark consumes me whole.