Lana
felt the cool breeze on her face, a relief from the burn of the midday sun, as
she sat with her back against the tree. She surveyed the meadow she was resting
in. Taking in the purple and yellow wild flowers blooming in the early summer
heat and the fish swimming in the clear running stream. But focusing on the
lack of any other shelter. One lonely tree, that was all, no cover for as far
as the she could see. It would be beautiful under most circumstances, but when
your hands are tied together and you can’t remember how you got here, the lack
of landmarks was disconcerting. How did she get here? Who brought her? Because
she certainly did not tie her own hands. Why just her hands? Why not her feet?
No blindfold? It didn’t make any sense.
She
knew she had to get out of here, even if she didn’t know how she got here or
which way was ‘out’. Lana struggled to
her feet, thankfully whomever had tied her hands did so with them in front of
her rather than behind her back. But, while she could see the knots, she could
not untie them. She quickly glanced
around, searching for a rock or stick that might be sharp enough to cut the
ropes, but there was nothing. She was going to have to do this without her
hands, at least for now. She began walking across the vast field of green, her
eyes flitting between the horizon and the ground, watching for danger of any
kind. The plan was to make it to the top of the hill so she could better access
which direction to go.
As she reached the apex of the hill, she looked in all
directions. To her left she saw a group of teenagers hanging out on their tailgates.
She could hear their country music drifting on the breeze. If front of her she
saw a cabin in the distance with an older pickup parked outside. If you asked
her later, she couldn’t have told you what made her choose, but she followed
her gut and walked quickly towards the partiers, casting wary glances over her
shoulder at the pickup. Reaching the teenagers Lana could see the shock and apprehension
in their faces as they took in her slightly panicked expression and the rope
around her wrists. She tried to explain, “I am not sure what happened to me, I
woke up in a meadow not far from here and I don’t know how I got there or why
my hands are tied. Can you help me? Do any of you have a knife that will cut through
the rope?” One boy, he must have been seventeen, pulled out a pocket knife and
made quick work of freeing her hands. The group quickly decided to drive the
woman back into town to the police station. As they pulled away, Lana looked
back towards the cabin and saw a very large bald man, with a scowl on his face
watching them drive off. She could feel the animosity dripping off of him and knew
she had not seen the last of him.
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