Chapter 37
Madi
“Ibet you think your stupid boyfriend will come save you, don’t you?” Pamela spat out her words. “But he can’t. You know who can? Paul. He’s the real hero.”
I couldn’t argue. All firefighters were heroes in my book.
And Matt would come save me, and he wouldn’t be alone. Dad and my brothers would call everyone, and they’d use every tool at their disposal to find me.
But will they find me in time?
When my phone vibrated in my pocket, hope bloomed. It was too late for a friendly chat, so Jamie had to be checking on me.
It’s only a matter of time.
More texts came through, but I ignored the vibrating sensation so Pamela wouldn’t realize I had my phone and smash it.
Could they trace the phone if I wasn’t on a call? Despite having a family full of former cops, I didn’t actually know fact from fiction. Just because they did it on TV didn’t mean it could happen in real life.
Please God, let them trace my locat—
Pain seared through my left arm, cutting off my prayer.
When I cried out, Pamela giggled.
Maybe if I could get her talking about her brother, she’d stop slashing me. “Is Paul working tonight?”
“Yup.”
“Maybe he’ll be my hero after all.”
How would Paul react to finding out his sister kidnapped and tortured me?
“Don’t be stupid. He doesn’t work here,” she sneered at me.
True. The only way he’d respond to the 9-1-1 call was if the local paramedics were unavailable.
Bur first, someone had to call or no one would respond.
I couldn’t. Pamela wouldn’t.
No one else knows I’m here.
I clenched my teeth and stiffened my spine as she lifted the knife. This time, she stabbed it into my left thigh. Despite my best effort, a muffled scream escaped.
When she yanked the knife out, blood soaked my legging and pooled on the floor.
“I read somewhere that screaming makes pain more bearable. Maybe you should try it.” She slashed across my stomach.
I whimpered as blood flowed from the long cut. I'm not as tough as I pretend to me.
I bet my brothers wouldn't have screamed or whimpered. Steeling my nerves, I grit my teeth and braced for Pamela's next attack.
At that point, none of the cuts were life-threatening, but it wouldn’t take long for the continued blood loss to affect my ability to think clearly. I have to keep her talking, so she stops using the knife.
“What are you going to do to me?”
“I’m glad you asked.” Her eyes sparkled with demonic pleasure in the rays of the moonlight.
“First, I’m going to make sure you bleed.” She waved the knife around my face. “And destroy that ugly face of yours.”
I’d hoped she only meant to make me suffer, but it seemed she wanted to kill me. Slowly.
“Then I’ll set small fires all along the walls of the building.” She looked around. “But not in here. I want you to sit here thinking about what you did to Paul while you slowly roast to death.”
Cold sweat covered my now trembling body.
Please let them find me.
I forced myself to take deep, calming breaths, so the fear didn’t take over. If I wanted to survive, I had to keep my wits.
Her words, while you slowly roast to death, echoed in my head.
Involuntary shivers racked my body.
I thought about telling her I’d suffocate from the smoke before the exposure to the heat could kill me, but she wouldn’t care and it didn’t matter. The result would be the same.
I’d be dead.
I continued to pray that my brothers would find me as Pamela berated me for hurting her brother.
My apologies earned me slaps to the face and knife pokes to my chest.
Not wanting to further escalate the situation, I stopped talking. Only answering if she asked me a direct question.
I had cuts on my face, torso, and all four limbs. She’d stabbed me twice, once in each thigh, luckily missing my femoral artery both times.
Adrenaline dulled the worst of the pain, but that would only help for so long.
Pamela had dragged the knife across my neck several times, causing nasty scratches but not doing any real damage.
Tears I couldn’t stop mixed with the blood rolling down my cheeks. The salt stinging the open wounds.
“Time to light the fires.” She pulled a long neck lighter out of her backpack.
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get trapped in here with me?”
“No. I’ll start the fires in those rooms there. Just little ones near the back door.” She pointed and cackled. “Then I’ll start fires all over the second floor.”
A shiver ran down my spine.
“I’ll leave a string of fires behind me as I walk to the front door.”
She’d thought this through. How could someone so unhinged plan so thoroughly?
“I’ll have time to exit before the fires grow and spread.”
Her pride was palpable as she explained her plan.
I couldn’t blame her. The plan was brilliant. Diabolical and insane, but brilliant.
“Bye, Madi,” she said cheerfully, waving as she skipped towards the rooms she wanted to light first.
Pamela was sixteen shades of batshit crazy.
And she was the last person I’d ever see.
No. I can’t think like that. By now, SSI would be searching.
I hoped.
I wiggled my wrists, trying to loosen the knots binding them.
No luck.
Pamela came back. “All done back there.” She wiped my blood off her hand after slapping me. “I bet you regret being a mean bitch to my brother now, don’t you?”
I regretted a lot of things.
Like ever meeting Paul.
Like not accepting Matt’s help.
Like not calling someone like Jay or my dad to get the water.
But I didn’t regret turning Paul down.
I said nothing.
“Answer me!” She held the knife under my right eye.
I swallowed while forcing myself not to blink and told her what she wanted to hear. “Yes, I regret it.”
“Too little too late,” she drew out the ‘a’ as she sang the words. “I’d tell you it’ll be over soon, but where’s the fun in that?”
Are those the last words I’ll ever hear?