Untraceable

Survival Skill #12

To fend off a predator, always target the most sensitive spot.

~

I lift my eyes and stare at the dirty pair of boots in front of me. My eyes trace up two tan pant legs until they settle in on Al’s pitted face.

He motions with his gun as if it’s a pointer. “Get up.”

My mind circles through different reasons on how to explain why I’m lying on the floor several few yards away from their camp. “Sorry, guys. I was just hiking through.”

Al must sense I’m lying, because his eyes narrow and a sneer slithers across this face. “Funny way of hiking. Sure you weren’t spying?”

My head shakes vigorously. “No, no. Not at all. Just didn’t want to bother you. I’ll just leave you guys alone.” I stand up slowly with my arms out, like a tightrope walker.

After I turn and take a step in the opposite direction, Al grabs my ponytail. “Wait a minute, missy. You ain’t going nowhere ’til I say so. Move into the light where I can see you. What’s your name?”

I stall. “Actually, I’d rather not say. I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

Al frowns. “Smartass.”

“Actually, it’s standard stranger danger stuff.”

He pushes me toward his camp. “Shut up and walk.”

I stumble forward, planning what to do next. Should I play it cool until I can bolt out of here or run for it, hoping they don’t shoot? Self Defense 101 says, never let an attacker take you to another location.

I lift my foot to take a step forward but instead kick my heel back into Al’s shin. He collapses onto his knees, and the gun pops out of his hand. My legs start moving before my brain even signals to them. Unfortunately, the thick trees slow me down, and I only make it a few yards when a shotgun clicks behind me.

I stop in mid-stride.

Billy sings out. “Aw, leaving so soon? But you just got here.”

I turn to face him with both my hands in the air. “Okay. Okay. Seriously guys, take it easy.”

Al limps toward me and clutches onto my bicep, squeezing tight. He jerks me along side him. “Not very polite for a guest, are you? This time, I’m not going to be so hospitable.” He half-drags me to their campsite, while Billy flanks me, jamming the gun into my spine.

Once we reach the fire, Al hammers down on my shoulders with both hands, forcing me to sit on a log. “Take a load off.” He grabs a cola from an ice cooler and holds it out to me. “Soda?”

I keep my eyes down. “No, thanks. I’m trying to quit.”

Squinting, he pops open the can and chugs down the liquid in a few gulps.

Billy pipes up. “Well? What are we gonna do with her?”

Al rubs his temples. “Shut up for a second.”

“We can’t keep her here.”

Al growls. “I said, shut up!” He wings the empty can at Billy’s head, clipping him in the forehead.

Billy whines and rubs the swelling spot. “Man! What’d you do that for?”

Al glares. “I told ya to be quiet. I’m thinking.”

I take a shot at him. “Looks like it hurts.”

Al lifts my chin with his hand, forcing my face up, and checks me out. His face is strained. Veins pop out on his forehead as his brain straddles the line between recognition and confusion. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”