It was terrible going. The dripping pines were thick together, their branches overlapping, and they tore at the arms crossed over my face. It was black as pitch and I couldn’t see a yard ahead. And then suddenly I could, and I sobbed as I realized what the car was for, for now its blazing headlights were holding me from the edge of the trees. As I tried to dodge the searching eyes, I heard the engine rev to aim the car and immediately they had me again. There was no room for manoeuvre and I just had to make headway in whatever direction the trees allowed me. When would the shooting start up again? I was a bare thirty yards inside the forest. It would be any minute now! My breath was sobbing out of my throat. My clothes had begun to tear and I could feel bruises coming on my feet. I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer. I would just have to find the thickest tree and try and lose the lights for a minute and crawl in under the tree and hide. But why no bullets? I stumbled away to the right, found brief darkness, and dived to my knees among the soaking pine needles. There was a tree like any other, its branches sweeping the ground, and I crawled in under them and up against the trunk and waited for the rasping of my breath to quieten down.
And then I heard one of them coming in after me, not softly because that was impossible, but steadily, and stopping every now and then to listen. By now the man, whichever it was, must realize from the silence that I had gone to ground. If he knew anything about tracking, he would soon find where the broken branches and scuffed earth stopped. Then it would only be a question of time. I softly squirmed round to the back of the tree, away from him, and watched the lights from the car hold steady in the glistening wet branches above my head.
The feet and the snapping twigs were coming nearer. Now I could hear the heavy breathing. Sluggsy’s voice, very near, said softly, ‘Come on out, baby. Or poppa spank real hard. Da game of tag is over. Time to come home to poppa.’
The small eye of a flashlight began searching under the trees, carefully, tree by tree. He knew I was only a few yards away. Then the light stopped and held steady under my tree. Sluggsy said softly, delightedly, ‘Coo-ee, baby! Poppa find!’
Had he? I lay still, hardly breathing.
There came the roar and flame of a single shot, and the bullet smacked into the tree-trunk behind my head. ‘That’s just a hastener, baby. Next time it takes your little footsie off.’
So that was what showed! I said, weary with fright, ‘All right. I’ll come. But don’t shoot!’ And I scrambled out on all-fours, thinking hysterically, ‘This is a fine way to go to your execution, Viv!’
The man stood there, his pale head fretted with yellow light and black shadows. His gun was pointed at my stomach. He waved it sideways. ‘Okay. Get ahead of me. An’ if you don’t keep moving, you’ll get a root in that sweet little keister of yours.’
I stumbled ignominiously through the trees towards the distant, glaring eyes of the car. Hopelessness had me by the throat, and an ache of self-pity. What had I done to deserve this? Why had God picked on me as a victim for these two unknown men? Now they would be really angry. They would hurt me and later almost certainly kill me. But the police would dig the bullets out of me! What evil crime were they engaged on that made them indifferent to the evidence of my dead body? Whatever the crime was, they must be quite confident that there would be no evidence. Because there would be no me! They would bury me, drop me in the lake with a stone round my neck!
I came out through the fringe of the trees. The thin man leant out of the car and called to Sluggsy. ‘Okay. Take her back. Don’t treat her rough. That’s for me.’ He put the car into reverse.
Sluggsy came up beside me and his free hand fondled me lasciviously. I just said, ‘Don’t.’ I had no will left to resist.
He said softly, ‘You’re in trouble, bimbo. Horror’s a mean guy. He’ll hurt you bad. Now you say “Yes” to me for tonight, and promise to act sweet, and mebbe I can get the heat taken off. Howsabout it, baby?’
I summoned a last ounce of fight. ‘I’d rather die than have you touch me.’
‘Okay, sweetheart. So you won’t give, so I take for myself. I reckon you’ve earned yourself a rough night. Get me?’ He pinched me viciously so that I cried out. Sluggsy laughed delightedly. ‘That’s right. Sing, baby! Might as well get into practice.’
