Gone
Part One
She awoke reluctantly, if not unwillingly altogether. Her room was dark,
the windows closed. Behind her curtains, she sunlight did not reflect off the
white cloth-the sun wouldn't be coming up for another couple hours or so.
Instead, the world she lived in was quiet and dark for the time being.
She slid to the side of the bed and sat up, planting her bare feet on the
crimson red rug, and rubbed her eyes with one hand. Soft, brown eyes. Her skin
was dark, but not black-almost like a year-round chestnut tan.
She stood up and slowly walked from her bed to the door, feeling around
a bit for the doorknob, and stepped out into the hall. She wasn't walking
especially straight-graceful movement wasn't a skill she possessed early in the
morning.
From her room, that unseasonably warm January morning, Molly headed into
the bathroom and took her shower; at seven o'clock she boarded the bus and rode
it to school. She had ten minutes to socialize before school started at
seven-thirty; then first block rolled around. Molly was an exceptionally
intelligent Junior-not a genius, not by a long stretch. Instead, she was one of
the rare 'overall smart' women in the high school-not ditzy, not a 'dumb blond'
if you will, not a meretricious bitch and not a snob. Instead, she was an honor
roll student who was secure in her social standing and had never engaged in
sexual intercourse in her entire life. Until sophomore year, Molly hadn't even
had a boyfriend-she just wasn't interested. She was very attractive, but that
hadn't gotten to her head-and if it had, she wasn't condescending just because
of her looks. Like previously stated, she was good all around.
After school, Molly completed her homework and was watching the
television when her phone rang. It was odd for someone to be calling this late
in the afternoon-probably a business associate of her father's or something.
Instead, she said 'hello' and was greeted by her friend Jenna.
"Hey Molly, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for a little
while."
Molly thought for a moment. Her television program wasn't that
important, and all her homework was complete. "All right, I'll be there in a
little while." She set down the phone and looked over her apparel: skimpy, light
red sandals, a pair of white shorts, and a tight blue t-shirt. It was casual,
and it would do. It was an odd outfit for January, to say the least-but, this
year was an odd year. It had not snowed at all, and temperatures had rarely
dropped to winter temperatures during the course of those few months. Molly
wasn't complaining; she had always been a fan of spring and summer's warmer
climate.
Her friend Jenna Clarence lived only a little ways from her-Molly lived
on a cul-de-sac, on the edge of the circle opposite the road; Jenna lived near
the intersection of her road and the main road. It was a short five-minute walk.
In that warm June afternoon Molly walked nonchalantly through the
rapidly failing sunlight, it was a pleasurable temperature and the spring air
smelled fresh with flowers and grass. A breeze swept down the road at her,
carrying the faintest scent of the distant ocean. It reminded her that she had
yet to visit the beach this year. In the trees lining either side of the quiet
road, birds sang their usual melodious chorus-one interrupted only by an
approaching rainstorm or the silencing shroud of night.
Molly turned into the Clarence's driveway, spotting the house at the end
of a long stretch of pavement. The property was dominant with pine trees, the
scent hanging permanently in the air like a heavy blanket. What was once grass
was now a thick layer of pine needles in Jenna's yard; yellow and green
intermingled, excluding the solid black pavement path leading to her garage and
front door.
The brick house was two stories high, but fairly small in terms of width
and length, and was reasonably sized for two adults and one teenager. Molly
walked up to the tall oak front door, reached up to the ornate gold knocker, and
struck it three times. The booming thunderclap it produced echoed through the
house and was rewarded with Jenna's voice. "Come in!"
Molly stepped through the door into the cozy house, closing the door
behind her. "I'm in the living room!"
Molly followed the sound of Jenna's voice down the hall and around the
next corner. When she stepped through the doorway, she stopped in her tracks.
Jenna was sitting on the couch with both hands behind her back-bound together
somehow, Molly assumed-her ankles tied together, and a large man sitting beside
her with a long knife pressed against her slender throat. The man with the knife
was looking at Jenna with a gleam in his eye, and for good reason-she had
medium-length black hair, held back on her head with a simple pink hair band,
and she had chosen to dress up that day and was clad in a thin denim skirt with
a white button up shirt. She looked at Molly woefully. "They...they made me do
it." Tears were beginning to flow freely now.
"They...?" Molly asked, backing away slowly; after all, she only saw one
man. Her confusion was quickly overcome, as another enormous arm was wrapped
around her petite body, its length formidable enough to hold both of Molly's
arms at her side. With the one hand useless, as it was attached to the arm
immobilizing her, her assailant used his other hand to hold a knife to her
throat similar to the one against Jenna's. She froze instantly, paranoid that
any sudden movements would be her last. The edge of the blade was surprisingly
sharp-she feared that even the slightest movement would slit her fragile flesh;
it was cold and merciless against her skin, as if trying to communicate to her
that the knife was alive and waiting to slide into her. Molly stood there for a
moment, paralyzed, looking at her helpless friend while the man holding her
captive adjusted his grip on the terrified girl. He pressed his face against the
side of hers, the bristles of his beard rubbing roughly against her soft skin,
like sandpaper. His lips pressed against her ear and his breath was hot and
moist. "Put your hands behind your back. Do it slowly."
Slowly, he released Molly's arms and stepped back a bit, withdrawing the
knife from her neck. She then determined to move her arms, now hanging loosely
at her sides, behind her back, as he had demanded. She was unsure where he
wanted her hands, but her question was quickly answered. He roughly grabbed her
slim wrists and secured a pair of handcuffs around each of them, effectively
negating any advantageous actions she could take. The metal was cold, the frigid
metal creating an almost cutting sensation upon her skin. He kneeled by her
feet, producing a white shoestring from his back pocket. "Put your feet
together." Again, Molly obliged, fearing the wraths of either of the mystery
men. As he bound her ankles together with the shoestring, Molly looked over at
Jenna, still seated on the couch with the other man. He growled something into
her ear and she opened her mouth wide open, a glint of fear unmistakable in her
eyes. The man beside Jenna then proceeded to push a bright red sphere into her
mouth, and then fastened the buckled behind her head, holding the gag in place.
It was quite obvious to Molly that the orb did not fit comfortably into her
friend's mouth, as Jenna's teeth seemed to be fighting a losing battle to bite
into the ball in order to relieve some of the stress.
The man finished binding Molly's ankles together and stood, looking into
her face. Molly was so terrified, so deeply frightened by this whole situation;
she was unable to break a stare between them. He looked deeply into her eyes,
feeding on the fear they expressed; his eyes were like twin fires absorbing the
happiness from hers. Her mouth was open, her bottom lip quivering lightly; she
was quite unstable, her knees almost buckled several times. But still, after
only a brief moment of all this transpiring, Molly was still standing. Still
gazing into her eyes, the assailant spoke to Molly. "I am Leonard. With your
friend over there is Greg. You will be coming with us." Leonard produced a gag
like Jenna's from his pocket. "Open up. Wide."
Molly obliged, holding her mouth open as wide as possible while he
pushed the sphere between her teeth. As she had previously observed, it was a
tight and uncomfortable fit, and her jaw soon became quite sore after only a
couple minutes after insertion. Leonard took Molly by the arm and motioned to
his comrade to do the same. Jenna was pulled into an upright position by her
captor and lifted over the man's muscled shoulder; her head hanging down along
her back and her legs dangling down his front. Greg carried Jenna out first,
Leonard lifting Molly up and over his shoulder in a similar manner and following
his companion out the door.
The two kidnappers' planning was impeccable-the time of the evening had
come when the sun had faded and the streetlights were still dark. Coupled with
the black shroud of the woods surrounding Jenna's house, the kidnapping of the
two women was virtually invisible.
Greg set Jenna down so she was standing on her own two feet once again,
and Molly was set down the same way. It was apparent that these two were very
organized, and had done this numerous times before. It was also evident that
they had observed Jenna's house beforehand, and worked out the plan before
executing. Molly found it to be startlingly efficient, almost frightening how
well the plan had been worked out.
Molly, now shoulder to shoulder with Jenna, looked forward at the road,
still shrouded in the darkness between to domains of sunlight and streetlight.
Not a single car passed by, it wasn't like a main road; instead, it was
unfortunately (as earlier stated) a cul-de-sac, and therefore the only traffic
tended to be people who lived on the road, aside from the occasional curious
tourist or dog walker.
"You get the van. I'll watch them." Leonard's voice broke the uneasy
silence that had greeted the group when the women had been led outside. This was
followed by Greg's quiet footsteps leading away from the driveway over to the
side yard. "You two-kneel down."
Molly, acknowledging the hopelessness of her situation, dropped to her
knees, kneeling down and sitting back on her ankles. Jenna copied the motion,
and the two women looked at each other. It was easy for one to read the other's
mind-neither girl knew what was going to happen, neither girl knew how to
escape.
The van Leonard had earlier mentioned pulled around the side of the
house a couple seconds later, bumping up onto the pavement beside them. Greg was
behind the wheel, staring forward nonchalantly, the passenger seat empty. It was
a truck belonging to the Volcano Publishing Company, probably stolen. It's
license plate was "OGD713", and a the image of a fluorescent volcano erupting
was painted on the side. Leonard strolled around the side of the red vehicle,
pulling open the rear doors, revealing a third man within. He hopped out, and,
with Leonard's assistance, lifted Jenna and hoisted her into the van. The same
was done with Molly-she was lowered into a laying-down position, Leonard grasped
her ankles and the other man stood by her head and lifted her up by her
underarms.
The first thing Molly noticed when she was set into the back of the van
was that she and Jenna had been placed into sleeping bags-however, the top flap
was open, the zipper down by their feet. Leonard jumped into the passenger seat
while the third man jumped in between Jenna and Molly and closed the rear doors.
The engine rumbled and the group drove off into the night, leaving Jenna's house
behind them. Soon, they were on the main road, clearly headed toward the
highway.
The passenger and drivers' seats obstructed Molly's vision; she could
see only into the clear night sky high above the city. A streetlight would
illuminate the interior of the van every so often, equally placed along the
road, a rhythmic pulsation created as a result. It mesmerized Molly; the pulsing
was like the throbbing of a heart...someone else's heart, no doubt, as the
throbbing was far slower than Molly's.
About an hour later, Clark (the third man, his name revealed when Greg
addressed him) moved to Molly's feet, and, taking the flap in his hand, pulled
it over her legs, then her torso, and finally her head. He moved once again to
her feet and pulled on the zipper, drawing it toward her head, the
characteristic 'zip' resembling that of a body bag. As usual, the same was
repeated for Jenna.
The van drove for another fifteen minutes or so; it was a psychological
eternity for Molly, who was languishing in the stifling heat of her sleeping bag
prison. Finally, the vehicle pulled to a stop and she heard the sound of the
rear door being opened.
Molly was the first to be removed. She felt hands, strong hands groping
around her chest, searching for her underarms. As her hands were manacled behind
her back, there wasn't exactly a whole lot of space between her arm and her
chest-therefore, the man simply stood at her head and hoisted her up by both her
shoulders. She was dragged out the back of the van, the sensations making her
nervous-she could feel nothing below her, in the darkness of the bag it was like
she was floating in a black, empty abyss. Luckily, a second man grabbed her
calves and she was once again carried somewhere. Around her, she could hear men
yelling to each other, though they were almost completely drowned out by the
roar of heavy machinery. Could she be in a factory of some sort? What would be
done to her? Countless questions filled her mind, a vicious surge of inquiries
inundating her brain.
Soon, the sound of the machinery seemed to drift away; Molly assumed
that she had been carried through a loading dock of some nature and was now deep
in the bowels of the facility. This was true...to a point.
Finally, she was set down on a hard, stone surface and there was a
gentle pulling sensation at the zipper, which was immediately followed by the
bag opening and filling the sleeping bag with light. Molly squinted momentarily,
blinded by the sudden influx of light. Before she was even organized, a gruff
voice was growling in her ear. "Roll over."
It was a simple command, and Molly, in her current situation, had no
choice but to oblige. The reaction was instant-the ball gag's strap was loosened
and was pulled away from her head and her ankles were untied. The handcuffs
remained in place, but nonetheless, Molly felt free.
There was the sound of a barred iron door opening and closing, and soon
her environment had been enveloped in silence. Her eyes had not fully adjusted
to the light, but she opened her eyes to look around. She was in a prison cell,
a small cell with a stone cot and a decrepit-looking toilet and a door. The wall
opposite the door was stone, as was the one on the side. However, the wall the
door was on and the wall opposite her cot were comprised of iron bars. Further
examination revealed that the wall opposite her cot looked into the cell next to
her, where Jenna was. She too was on her cot, looking up at the ceiling.
Molly stood and walked to the barred wall looking into Jenna's cell. She
glanced around a bit, to ensure nobody was around. "Jenna..."
She raised her head to look at the voice. "Molly!" She said, her voice a
loud whisper. "I'm...I'm scared."
Molly looked at the floor. "I am too..."
"I'm sorry I got us into this...they came into my house and threatened
to kill me if I didn't call you. Then, when you got there, they threatened to
kill me if I didn't lead you to the living room...I'm so sorry..."
Molly shook her head, not taking her eyes off her distraught friend.
"It's not your fault."
Jenna looked up at Molly once again. "What do you think they're going to
do to us?"
Molly's eyes welled up at this new realization, the realization that
Jenna's question was one she didn't have an answer to...
