Not A Single Word

Chapter 15

Opening the living room's curtain slightly to take a look outside, there was enough light for Faith to be faced with a bone chilling sight.

She was rooted in place unable to function, to think clearly or do anything. The do's vigor in hitting the door grew louder and more pronounced as well as its barking. This fidelity and self-sacrifice was the only thing that tore Faith from her state of depression and fear. She couldn't sit back and do nothing when all she had and might have was on the line. No matter the consequences.

She took a few second to formulate a plan and put it into action.

It was the perfect opportunity for the aggressor. He had caught Sam off guard. With the dog restrained in the house, he could do anything he wanted to him and finally get the information that he needed. When he was gone from here nothing would remain from him. Not even the dead body of the man that he was tying to the tree so securely.

It was a bit trickier than tying an unconscious girl to his operating table. For one thing the bulk of an unconscious male was considerably bigger. For another, the standing position didn't allow for a lot of control, not when you had to hold the body up while tying it behind the tree. As soon as he secured the man to the tree he slapped him as hard as he could to wake him.

Dizzy and disoriented, not fully understanding what was happening, Sam awoke to the shadowy sight of the man that he now knew to be a rapist or even worse.

As if the sky predicted the outcome of this battle, it began to poor heavily drenching both men.

"You son of a bucket." Sam bit out angrily. "What do you want from me? What are you doing here? Who are you?" Sam bombarded.

"I ask the questions here." The man answered viciously. "And you're going to answer each and every question honestly."

"What makes you think that I'll tell you anything?" Sam raged defiantly. "The worst you can do is kill me and I'm not scared of death so you're wasting your time."

The man laughed. More like chuckled nonchalantly. "When I'm done with you, believe me, you'll wish you were dead." He promised viciously.

He bent down to open his gym bag and extract his equipment.

There was a gun that he hung to the back of his pants. Then he opened a black leather roll case that held different types of blades and surgical equipment.

At that moment, Sam's only thought was "Please be safe. Please run away." But he couldn't voice his plea out loud and he wouldn't give this sick monster the satisfaction of answering any of his questions.

He tried to wiggle, to see how much slack he had with the ropes and if he could get his hands free from behind the tree, then maybe, just maybe he could get to the phone in his back pocket and he probably might be able to dial 911.

It was a shitload of "maybes" and "probablys" but this was the only change he had to be rescued and perhaps save the life of the only person that had become special to him. He just hoped that luck, or God, or any higher power out there would be with him tonight.

"Now, let's get this show on the road, shall we?" The man said taking out one of the surgical knives from his pouch and testing its sharpness with a flick of his thumb on its blade.

They were both so enwrapped in their confrontation, one with anger and determination and the other with hatred and malice that they didn't notice when the dog's barking and struggles stopped. They didn't even notice when the door to the house was opened and an elegant figure approached them until it was too late. Their clothes were plastered to their bodies now, the sound of the pouring rain and thunder drowning out almost every other sound.