After a while, I lowered my eyes and said in a shaky voice, “I need to use the bathroom.”
They laughed again.
I added, “You don’t want me doing it right here, do you?”
The bald one grinned. “Who says we don’t?”
The bearded man waved a hand. “Let her go. Every girl tries the same trick.”
The camouflage man stood up. “I’ll take her.”
He untied my ankles and yanked me to my feet. As he leaned in, his hand slapped my backside.
“Try to run,” he whispered, “and you’re done.”
I nodded like I was too scared to speak.
Outside, night had already swallowed everything.
A dirt road ran past the house. On one side was a vegetable patch and a drainage ditch. Beyond that, a stretch of trees. Behind the house were mountains so dark they looked bottomless.
He led me toward the ditch and jerked his chin.
“Go.”
I glanced at my tied hands. “How am I supposed to—”
He laughed in the dark.
“Oh. Need help with your pants?”
Then he bent toward me.
That was the moment I’d been waiting for.
My bound hands snapped up around his neck. He froze for half a second, maybe thinking I was playing along.
Then I stepped behind him, locked my arm in place, and cut off the blood flow with one clean motion.
He fought.
Hard.
Then less hard.
Then not at all.
I counted in my head.
When I reached fifteen, I let him drop.
I found a sharp-edged rock in the ditch and sawed through the ropes around my wrists. Then I stood over him, remembering the hand he’d used on me.
Right hand.
Good.
When he started to stir, I brought the rock down on his arm.
His eyes flew open.
The second strike kept him quiet.
I dragged him into the ditch, wiped my hands on my pants, and had just stepped back onto the road when I saw the bald man staring at me from up ahead.
For one second, neither of us moved.
Then I turned and ran toward the trees.
He shouted for the others and came after me.
I let him gain on me. Let my steps turn uneven. Let him think I was exhausted, hurt, panicking.
Right before the tree line, I stumbled on purpose and limped forward.
Behind me, I heard him huffing, closing in.
“You stupid girl,” he spat. “You think you can actually get away? Wait till I drag you back—”
I stopped.
He had just enough time to realize something was wrong.
Then I spun and drove my heel into the side of his head.
He dropped like somebody had cut his strings.
I took the same rope they had used on me and bound him tight. Then I crouched beside him and lightly patted his shaved scalp.
“How could you be this dumb?” I murmured. “You didn’t even think to check where your friend went.”
I dragged him out of the trees and looked back toward the house.
The man in camouflage was still down by the ditch.
But their leader—the bearded one—hadn’t come out.
That told me two things.
First, he hadn’t run.
Second, he was waiting.
Good.
I hated chasing.