Amplify

One

"Never and I mean NEVER--"; I could hear my mother's voice echo in my head over the sound of asphalt under rubber tires and the metal clank of a tool box settling after a particularly large bump in the road.

"I mean it, I'm being deathly serious with you Mercedes,--" she'd always grab my little hands in hers when she said that, thin fingers wrapped tightly around them to emphasize her point.

"Talk to strangers." I remembered vividly how grave her expression was as she looked down at little me.

"Even if they have candy!" I found myself muttering that last part with the same inflection she'd use as I stared forward, watching the tool box topple on its side as we hit another bump.

I'd heard her warning, the latchkey kid lecture, so often I could recite it by the time I was 9.

"Even if they have candy..."

Well I wasn't 9 anymore, nowhere near it, and he certainly hadn't offered me candy.
He hadn't offered anything. There was no grand persuasion,  no "Hey kid" whispered from some dark allyway, I wasn't even snatched.
There would have been an odd reassurances in those scenarios, had they played out. I would have been slighted in some way, the blame wouldn't feel like it landed souly on me.

I had been shopping, doing my usual Sunday grocery run. It was overcast and I just wanted to get the few things on my list before the rain hit. I didn't do my usual browsing, it was a mad dash from isle to isle to grab what I needed and chuck it into my cart. A sudden crack of thunder stopped me from even commenting on how oddly the boy bagging my items had arranged them in their bags.  I just held my tongue, paid, and made a beeline for my car. I cursed him now from my seat in the back of a utility van, arms and legs bound with electrical tape. If he hadn't put my orange juice ontop of my eggs and double bagged my milk, crushed my bread....that THING wouldn't have had time to catch my attention. I'd be on my way home now.

While I was fixing the mistakes of an inexperienced 16 year old, my head snapped up like someone had called my name. It was instant, instinctual, I had been called. Despite never hearing my name or anything outside of the parking lot hustle and bustle, I knew. There was no "excuse me" or "ma'am" or any of that yet I knew I was being addressed. I paused for a moment, a flash of lightning quickly reminding me of the task at hand. I was in the middle of pulling the frozen turkey off of my crushed loaf of bread when I felt myself being called, again, without words.

This time I turned, scanning the parking lot with a sizeable frozen turkey in one hand and my car keys in the other. My eyes finally settled on a man in a work jumpsuit and heavy looking steel toed boots. He was  stood with his hands in his pockets next to a large white utility van, 4 cars down. He was deathly pale with salt and pepper hair cut short.  I could just make our some of the harsh angles of his face when my eyes snapped themselves away.

It was visceral, my body had finally caught up and concluded I wasn't supposed to, or rather I wasnt allowed to look. He was bad news. Very bad news. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to turn around, to throw that damned turkey in the trunk with the rest of my groceries and book it. I turned from him, and began to do just that.
The signal from my brain, to my to my arm, to my wrist didn't even have time to make it before I felt a large hand on my shoulder.
I felt the slight weight of him lean down to my level and before I knew it I was looking directly into what I knew I shouldn't. The gesture was similar to how a teacher would lean down to try to catch the eyes of a particularly shy student. What I was looking into however weren't eyes, or at least not like any I'd ever seen before. They were black and bottomless.

Looking into them made made my stomach drop like I was falling. That plummeting sensation felt like it lasted forever until the corners of his eyes creased in a smile. In that reprieve I was able to finally put his face together. He looked to be in his late 40s with an angular face, his stubble the same salt and pepper as his hair. He had prominent smile lines and thin lips wrapped tightly around needle sharp teeth.

In any other setting I'd be terrified, I should  have wanted to scream but as his smile grew the only thing I felt was absolute elation. It was nothing but pure joy as I stared into a twisted smile that was far too big to be natural. He nodded and a wave of almost mind numbing delight crashed into me. I let out a squeal not unlike the recipient of a surprise marriage proposal.
I felt like I could burst at any moment, tears nearly welling at the corners of my eyes as he spoke the only word he'd say to me before I'd be in the back of his utility van, bound and gagged.

"Come."

With that I dropped my turkey and car keys and walked with him, leaving the trunk of my car open as the rain started. I'd been giggling as he led me in the back, holding his gaze and offering my wrists and ankles to him eagerly. It felt like I was flying. He continued to smile at me even as he backed his way out and stood in the now pouring rain, holding the backdoor handles and peering in at me one last time.  I was writhing on the metal floor, laughing like hadn't in years before he slammed it closed. It was like a switch, it flipped and I came crashing down from my high, sides sore.

The last of my laughter shot off into muffled yells. I couldn't understand. The who, what, where, and why escaped me as he started the car and pulled off. There was no rush, he didn't speed. By all accounts he drove like he hadn't just nabbed a 23 year old woman from a grocery store parking lot.

The sound of rain and that damn tool box rolling around were the only things I heard for the first hour or so as he made turn after turn. I'd tried to keep track in the beginning but I only knew so much to the area and once we hit back roads I was completely lost. By the time the rain had let up the side I was laying on was sore and my arm had fallen asleep.

I was nearly asleep myself when I felt us take a sharp right turn and come to a stop. The suddenness of it was enough to rouse me and I lifted my head quickly, squirming to roll over on my back, feet facing the back doors to kick out when he opened them. Taking his time seemed to be something he enjoyed doing as he didn't immediately hop out. I laid there in place as he got his affairs in order at the driver's seat and leisurely exited the car. Each one of his slow, meticulous footsteps made me want to jump out of my skin.

When he finally made it to the back doors I squeezed my eyes shut and waited, knees at my chest, heart threatening to burst through my ribs. The handle pulled and I screamed around my gag, kicking in the direction I assumed he'd be in and hoping against hope I'd connect with something.

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