Collecting Scars (16 page)

“Here eat.” His hands were on her shoulders and she was being forced down. There was something at the back of her legs, a chair or bed maybe. She lifted shaky fingers to her blindfold.

“May I?” she whispered.

“After I leave the room,” came the response, there was something about that voice she recognised, but she could not quite put her finger on it.

“What about the bathroom? I need to pee.”

“There's a bucket in the corner and I will bring you some hot water and a towel in the evenings to wash with.”

“Please mister, why me? Why am I here?” she pleaded.

Whack! A stinging pain seared her cheek and she automatically brought her hand up to cup it. She had been hit in the face before. Her mum had slapped her across the face when she was younger and it felt like a similar pain, although harder than she recalled.

“If you don't stop asking questions you will get more,” he yelled, so close to her face she could smell his breath. It smelled of whisky and a hint of something spicy. Bile rose up in her throat and she had to force it down.

“Sorry,” she breathed.

Pain tore at her scalp as he grabbed a handful of her hair in his fist, her head wrenched back. It felt as if every strand of hair was being ripped from its follicle.

“You will be if you don't sit there, shut-the-fuck-up and behave yourself. Understand me Nursey?”

Asha nodded as best she could, not wanting to move for the pain in her head and not game to speak. Then she heard him moving again, she heard the strain of what she thought was a heavy metal door, heard it slam shut and again heard the padlocks and deadbolt.

“Nursey,” he had called her “Nursey.” He knew she was a nurse. She was wearing her work uniform, but she didn't wear nurse-type clothing to work  unless she was working a clinical shift. Was it coincidental or was it because she was a nurse that she was taken? She was confident, the van she had been picked up in was the same van that had been following her home, so there was a very real possibility that they had been planning this for some time. But why her? What was it they wanted, she was just so confused.

Waiting to be sure he was gone, she slowly pulled off the blindfold and took her first look around the room she was being held in. It was small, maybe two metres square. She was sitting on a simple pipeline bed. Baby blue, she guessed it had once belonged to a young boy. The bed had a thin foam mattress which was stained in places, no sheets no pillow. There was a small thin cotton blanket folded at the end of the bed.

As advertised, there was a bucket in the corner. A single light hung overhead, just a bare bulb no light shade. She looked around at the bare walls, no switch.

The room was otherwise bare and windowless, the walls were rendered, not painted. Again she heard the whirring noise, she scanned the room with keen eyes. In one corner, near the ceiling, she could see a small lens looking back at her. A camera. Someone, her captor no doubt, was watching her every move.

He had left her some buttered toast, she brought one piece to her mouth, her stomach rumbled. She felt hungry but nauseated at the same time.

Her thoughts turned to Xavier. She had been thinking about what Polly had said, thinking she should maybe talk to him. Maybe she would have gone to see him this weekend. He wouldn't even know she was missing, she wondered if he was still angry with her. If he even cared about her anymore. Her heart twisted in her chest. If only she could turn back the clock.

What about Joanie? She must be wondering where she was, but then again it was Friday, well at least she thought it was still Friday. Joanie would be going out with Clare, how long would it take for her to even notice she was gone?

Patrick, dear Tricky. He had always managed to twist her around his little finger. Asha could understand why their mother had loved him so much. Even when he was in trouble he still had a way of wooing the women in his life.

Maria? At least Maria would be looking for her, maybe not until Monday morning. No, she wouldn't be here on Monday, she'd be long gone from this place before Monday morning. Back to her normal, mundane life.

Suddenly the thought hit her, what if she was dead by Monday? What if he killed her? What if she never got to see Xavier again? She needed the see him. She had pushed him away, yet he kept coming back. It had been days since she had heard from him. She knew she had pushed him too far. She knew it was up to her to fix things if they ever had a chance of being together. He was the best thing that had happened to her in many, many years and she had pushed him away. Called him terrible things. A sob caught in her throat. The camera whirred. “No,” she yelled at it, at her captor. “I will not let you beat me, you bastard.”

Time passed, so agonisingly slow it felt like days to Asha as she lay back on the bed. Thinking about the people she loved on the outside. Wondering how long it would be until someone came for her when without warning the room was plunged into darkness.

“Hello?” she called out, fear gripping at her. “Is anyone there?”

There was the turning of a key, the sound of a deadbolt being unlatched. He was back. The door was pushed open. She struggled in the dark, waiting for her eyes to adjust, maybe she would lay eyes on her captor. Maybe she would get some answers. Nothing was said, just the sound of something scraping across the concrete, a small splash of water and then the door was hefted closed again.

Again she heard the deadbolt engage and the room was filled with light once more. Now near the door stood a fresh bucket of water and a small raggedy towel sat on the floor beside it.

“Well at least he's true to his word,” she muttered.

The camera whirred again as she moved toward the bucket, it appeared to be following her movements. He was watching her. Waiting for her to strip off to wash? There was no way she was going to put on a show for him.

Taking one corner of the towel she dipped it into the lukewarm water, washing her face first, then gently washing her arms and painfully lacerated wrists, wiping herself clean, then drying herself with the other end of the towel as she went. It was not like she could get properly clean anyway with a bucket of water and a towel, neither did she have clean clothes to change into. Somewhere along the way she had lost her shoes, maybe on the side of the road. Hopefully, someone would find them and it would alert them to her having being abducted. A clue to whoever might look for her that would be a good thing surely. Everyone knew she walked that same route home every day.

All that time she had walked down that road and worried about that van. She had tried to tell herself she was just paranoid for weeks, months even. She had nightmares about that van. In her nightmares, she had seen different faces. Sometimes Frank, sometimes Mr Hall from next door. Once it had been Mr Arnold and even Xavier had featured in her nightmares about that damned van. Mostly it had been creepy old Frank. Was it Frank who took her? There was something familiar about him, but in her panic and confusion, she could hardly be sure. All she was sure about was that she wanted out of this dingy little room, she wanted to go home. She was hurt, tired and cold. She wanted Xavier. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was, to take back every hurtful thing she had said.

Laying down on the edge of the bed, she pulled the small blanket over herself, her body quivered as she struggled to keep her tears at bay. Maybe if she slept time would pass faster. The faster time passed the sooner someone would come for her. Try as she might, sleep wouldn't come, only tears. The light above screamed at her. It had to be late into the night, maybe early morning. There really was no way of knowing, she had no idea what had happened to her phone and her purse. Obviously, he was not going to let her have those. She was going to lose her mind.

Chapter 22

DARKNESS DESCENDED ONCE MORE. ASHA knew this meant her captor was coming back into the room. Within seconds, he heard the deadbolt unlatch and the sounds of heavy footsteps walking toward where she lay on the bed. As he approached her in the darkness she pulled herself as far away from him as she could.

Slowly her eyes adjusted to the dark. This was the first chance she had to see her kidnapper. He was average height for a man, a few inches taller than her five foot seven, she guessed around five foot nine or ten, and he was broad and muscular. Dressed in dark clothing, there was little more she could make out. Over his head, he wore a dark coloured mask, which obscured his face and eyes, it appeared there was some dark mesh covering his eyes, as he appeared to see her. He said nothing as moved closer to her. Was he trying to scare her? It was working. He seemed to sniff her, then pulled back and left the room again. What was going on?

The light came back on as soon as he left the room. She had no idea if it was day or night. The only time the lights went off was when mystery man came into the room. Mostly he would open the door and slip food in. Often it was just buttered toast and a bottle of water. She marked the days by the frequency of the buckets of warm water. He had said she could have one a day, this was the third. What did that make it Monday? Surely Monday, someone would know she was missing now wouldn't they? It couldn't be long before she was rescued.

***

According to her calculations, several long days had passed and still no one had come for her. She felt disgusting, still in the clothes she had dressed in for work on Friday morning.  At least he took her toilet bucket away and changed it. What she wouldn't give to use a real toilet. Using a bucket was gross. She remembered camping when she was young, with her dad and Patrick and the boys teasing her about not wanting to go behind a tree. It was okay for them, they did not have to squat.

Trying to squat over a bucket, then being stuck in the same room with her own stench for hours was inhumane. Even after he took the bucket away, it still smelt, as there was zero ventilation in this room. She was terribly dehydrated, which didn’t help. She was only getting one small bottle of water each day.

If no one came soon, what would become of her? Another day, she decided, one more day and she would make an attempt to escape. She had tried the door several times and banged on the walls.  She had tried screaming at the top of her lungs to alert someone’s attention. Nothing. She knew she could be anywhere, she did not even know if she was still in the city. At least he hadn't raped her, in fact, other than the creepy camera thing, he had done nothing to make her think he might sexually assault her in any way.

No one came for her, there was no food that day either. She was positive the day and night had passed, but how could she know for sure? The minutes felt like hours and hours felt like months.

Asha thought she would surely go mad if she stayed much longer. She paced around the tiny room, thinking, there had to be a way out. Time to put on her big girl panties and quit waiting on her knight in shining armour. She had ever been 'that girl' in her life, so why was she expecting it now? It seemed clear to her now, that no one was coming for her, it was time to save herself.

That night, she lay awake, devising a plan. She would wait for him to come to her. When she heard him unlocking the door, she would wait right next to it, she always got plenty of warning, that he was coming as he always put the lights out first. As he stepped through the door, she would put an inverted bucket over his head, kick him in the balls and make for the door. Hopefully, she could slam it shut, while he was still in shock.

What if she got out of that room and was still locked in? What if there was someone else standing guard? What if......No, she would have to work that out when she got there. What ifs, would keep her trapped, waiting for rescue forever. She had to do this, it might not be the smartest escape plan, but it was the best one she had.

***

It was not long until the chance to put her plan into action came to fruition. She decided to wait until the lights went out to empty yesterday’s bucket of water onto the floor, then hopefully he might slip and injure himself as he walked in.

The locks jiggled and Asha's heart beat so loud, she was sure he could hear it from the other side of the door. A heavy thud, it sounded as if he needed to give the door a shove with his shoulder to open it, she hoped like hell it would not be too difficult to shut behind her. At any rate, if it opened into an open area, she would run for her life.

“Please let this work,” she sent up a quick prayer to whoever might hear her.

Suddenly the door swung in. Asha swung into action, she tipped the water at the monsters feet, then threw the bucket over his masked head. A moment of confusion and yelling ensued as she brought her foot up to connect with his manly parts.

Before she knew what had happened she was laying flat on her back and the monster lay on top of her, with all his weight, the bucket was gone, but the mask was still in place. Unfortunately, it did not help disguise his breath. It had all happened so fast she was unsure how she had ended up here. Looking over, she could see the door was still ajar and she yelled with all her might.

“Help, somebody, help,” hoping someone might hear her, a passer-by maybe. “Anyone.”

Whack! Her ears rang as she felt the sting of his hand. He had hit her across the face again. He seemed to enjoy doing that. Asha was not ready to give in, she knew this may be her only chance. She struggled to worm her way from under him. He was heavier than she would have thought. One foot gained traction with the floor and she managed to squeeze a leg free, so she kicked down hard, with the heel of her foot into the back of his calf, eliciting a cry of pain. Good.  It distracted him for a moment and he loosened his grip on her so she tried to roll out from under him. The man in the mask lifted some of his weight from her chest and Asha thought he would free her body, but she was wrong. Before she had a chance to move he had both her shoulders in his grip.  He lifted them from the floor, then without warning he slammed her back into the floor.