A Tap on the Window

Forty-seven

I didn’t black out completely. I was pretty fuzzy at first, no doubt about it. But I could hear things, like when you’re having an afternoon nap on the couch but are still distantly aware of things going on in the house around you.

I heard someone say, “Fucker!”

A second voice said, “Got him good.”

Male voices.

After I hit the driveway, I slapped my palms onto the asphalt and woozily tried to push myself up, but a sharp kick to my side hindered my efforts, knocking the wind out of me. I dropped and rolled over onto my side. I could hear pitiful moaning.

That was me.

I opened my eyes, saw them looking down on me like a couple of skyscrapers. Hard to judge how tall they were from my vantage point. They could have been five one and still looked like giants. Stocky builds, thick arms. Their faces remained a mystery. They wore ski masks, so all I could see was their eyes and mouths. One wore a red mask, with knitted snowflakes on it, while the other had pulled a solid blue one down over his face.

Red Mask said, “How do you like it, huh? You like that?”

Blue Mask said, “You better check and see if he’s got a gun on him.”

Red Mask said, “Shit, yeah, okay.”

He dropped to his knees, patted me down. “Nothing,” he said.

Just as well I’d decided not to carry the Glock today. I stood a chance of surviving a beating, but a shot to the head was a lot harder to recover from. I made an unsuccessful attempt to punch Red in the face, but he deflected the blow. Then I went for his mask, trying to slip my fingers under the bottom edge. Stubble under his chin rubbed against my fingers like sandpaper.

“Fuck off!” he said, ripping my arm away and hitting me backhanded on the cheek.

“Sit on him,” said Blue. “Hold him down.”

I was straddled. He grabbed my wrists and with his weight pinned them to the pavement. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of duct tape being torn off a roll. Next thing I felt was tape being wound around my ankles, binding my legs together.

“Hold him!”

“I’ve got him. Work fast before someone comes.”

Blue moved up by my head. While his partner crossed my wrists, Blue taped them together. He wound the tape around half a dozen times, did a pretty good job of it. What he hadn’t thought of was, when I brought my arms down, my wrists would be in front of me. That was a lot better than having them bound behind my back. He tore off a couple more strips and slapped them over my mouth.

“Okay, asshole, stand up.”

They had to help me to my feet, then bent me over the hood of my car so I all I could see was metal. Blue held me there while Red ran off. Seconds later, I heard a car start up, then the whining noise of a car backing up speedily. I managed to turn my head enough to see the car back in right behind me. I couldn’t see what make it was. A trunk popped open.

Red jumped out of the car and with Blue’s help they hauled me off the hood and turned me around. Suddenly, I raised my arms in front of me, wrists still crossed, and attempted to bat Blue across the head. Got him, too, but not hard enough to hurt him. That was when he got the roll of tape again, making several turns around me at waist height, pinning my arms down.

Shit.

They shuffled me over to the back of their car, the trunk yawning open to receive me.

“Yeah, see how you like it,” Blue said. The two of them loaded me in. I lay on my side, looking up.

“The fun’s just beginning,” said Red.

And then everything went dark.

I heard some muffled chatter through the trunk lid, then both doors opening and closing. We shot out of the driveway like a sprinter coming out of the blocks. I was tossed around, hit my head.

The car accelerated, made several turns, and within five minutes we were traveling steadily at what I guessed to be sixty or more miles per hour. We were on a highway. Most likely the Robert Moses, but heading where, I could only guess at this point.

The dumb-asses had searched me for a gun, but they hadn’t grabbed my phone, which told me I wasn’t exactly dealing with professionals. Although I had to concede they’d been smart enough to get the drop on me.

My cell was still tucked way down in my inside jacket pocket, but it was of little use to me now. I couldn’t get at it, and even if it somehow slipped out and landed on the floor of the trunk, I was going to have a hard time manipulating it.

Most cars made in the last few years are equipped with an escape latch in the trunk that can be pulled from the inside. I’m not sure the manufacturers were thinking primarily of kidnap victims. They just wanted kids who’d accidentally locked themselves in a trunk to be able to get out before they suffocated.

I didn’t know how recent this car was or whether it had such a latch. And even if it did, I didn’t know where it was located. If I could untie myself, I could start patting around trying to find it. I couldn’t exactly roll out while the car was moving, but someone traveling behind us might see the trunk pop up, spot me in here, and call the cops. Failing that, maybe I could get myself into position, wait until the car stopped and they opened the trunk, and see if I could drive my heels into the face of one of these sons of bitches.

The tires hummed on the pavement below me, the noise much more audible than if I’d been behind the wheel. There was a rhythmic thunk as we drove over pavement seams. But then the sound changed, became more hollow. We were crossing a bridge.

Then we were back on solid pavement.

I didn’t know where we were going, but I had an inkling. I also had an idea who my two kidnappers were.

They were my chickens coming home to roost.

The car slowed, turned, sped up, turned again. We were off the highway, and had been traveling for about twenty minutes.

My cell rang. I felt it vibrating against my chest. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I wondered if the phone’s ring could be heard inside the car, whether it would prompt them to pull over, pop the trunk, and take it away from me. But I could detect a lot muffled chatting in the two front seats, and when they didn’t pull over, I figured they hadn’t heard it.

I was still struggling with the tape, and while I felt like I was making headway, I wasn’t making it fast enough. If could free my wrists first, I could remove the rest of the tape in seconds. If I could break the tape wrapped around me, I could get my hands to my mouth, peel off that tape, and bite my way through the tape that held my wrists.

The car slowed. We were on gravel now, rubber crunching on stone.

I continued to shift and flex my arms. My body was soaked with sweat. Some of it had run into my eyes and stung like hell.

The car stopped and the engine died. The two doors opened and slammed shut.

“This place is good,” one said.

“I like it.”

“Put your mask back on.”

“Oh yeah.”

Although the engine was now off, I could hear something. A dull kind of roar. Not traffic on a nearby highway. Something else. Something not far away.

I made one last effort to break the tape wrapped around my body.

No joy.

The trunk popped open. A hand slipped under the edge to swing it wide. Red and Blue stood there, looking in on me.

“He’s almost got loose,” Blue said.

“I’ll get the roll.”

He was gone ten seconds. When he returned, the two of them swung my legs out over the bumper, then sat me up, my butt still parked on the trunk floor. Red ran more tape around my body, then added more to my wrists.

Once that was done, they hauled me out of the trunk and stood me up. We were in a wooded area, maybe a park. I blinked a couple of times, having spent the better part of half an hour in the pitch-dark trunk.

I recognized where we were. I had been here a couple of nights ago. It all made sense now. I knew what that roar in the background was.

Water.

Millions upon millions of gallons of it. Moving very, very quickly.

A river. The Niagara River. Just a short distance upstream from the falls.

“You’re going to have to hop,” Blue Mask said. “Either that, or we’re going to have to drag you to the railing.”

“Let’s just drag him,” Red Mask said. “Hopping’s going to take for-fucking-ever.”

And that’s exactly what they decided to do. They each grabbed me under an arm, and hauled me toward the river.