The Alex King Series A BATEMAN (summer reading list txt) 📖

ahead of her, knew the distance would be deceptive. She had once driven towards the Rockies and they had appeared the same size after an hour on the road. She knew that these would not be in the same league as the Rockies, but she was aware they could be five miles away or thirty. There were scatterings of snow or ice at their peaks and given that it would be late May by now, that would indicate a great height and given their appearance, she estimated they were closer to thirty miles away than twenty. The thought of how long she had been captive made her eyes well-up. She missed Alex terribly, but more than that, to her sadness, she missed her freedom and detested the woman who had instigated this. What could she hope to achieve? She had only met her briefly, and that had been enough. She recognised madness, and clearly Helena Snell had been tipped over the edge. She had been seething with King, blamed him for the death of her lover. Blamed him for her being recognised as the instigator of a terrorist group, and their deadly manifesto. But it had been more than that, she had been in it for her own gain. To kill her husband and to gain financially from his death. And she had been both evil, or perhaps crazy enough to kill so many people as a cover for her agenda. With this knowledge, Caroline truly feared the woman. She knew she was a pawn, but she had no idea to what end.

Caroline considered the mountain region no more. With that direction ruled out, Caroline craned her neck to see what was to east and west. Naturally, if she were able to escape, she thought west would be her best option. Simply because it was in the direction of home. It would seem outlandish to head further away.

She heard footsteps, tensed at the sound. It took all her resolve to steel herself, assume the arrogant superior personality she had used with Michael earlier. She had trained in evasion and capture, knew all about Stockholm Syndrome, where captives can start to sympathise with their captors.

Well, that was not going to happen with her.

She would reverse it. She would have this cowardly little pervert eating out of her hand. She had taken a chance, and now she had to act on it. She would take each little victory she could.

The lock on the door raked back and she could hear keys rattling. The door eased inwards, and she stepped over to the dresser to be closer to her makeshift club. The wingnut was still tucked inside her bra. But she was trained in Krav Maga. She wouldn’t be going quietly.

Michael skulked inside. He had a plastic grocery bag in one hand, some clothes tucked under his arm as he put the keys back into his pocket.

“Good,” said Caroline. “Put the clothes on the bed.” She waited while he placed a folded pair of jeans and thin sweater on the bed. “No shoes?”

Michael shrugged. “There are none.”

Caroline considered this, glanced at the man’s own. She estimated him to be a nine. She was a five and a half. She looked up at him. “What have you got me in there?” She nodded at the bag.

“Food, some drinks. All sealed, like you said.” He looked behind him into the hallway, then stared back at her. “You will be moved soon,” he said. “When I know, I will come and get the clothes from you. I will be in trouble otherwise…”

“Moved? Where?”

“I do not know.”

“Find out for me,” she said. “Please, Michael. We are friends, yes?”

“I…”

“Are you happy here, Michael?”

“I…”

She interrupted him again. “I could get you a place to stay in England. In Manchester, perhaps. A job, season tickets to watch Manchester United’s home games. My brother could help me get those for you. You will be paid a great deal of money, by the people I work for, for helping me get home,” she paused. She had hurried, but she was desperate. A new place could mean somebody less pliable. It could mean something altogether more terrible even. “What do you say?”

He glanced behind him, then said, “I have to go. I will think about what you have said.”

“I mean it, Michael. I can help you have a better life.”

He looked ashen, closed the door without saying anything else.

She cursed herself for rushing in. She tore off her dress and pulled on the jeans. They were a bit on the loose side, as was the sweater, but both made her feel less vulnerable than the white linen dress. She tore both straps off the dress, tied the ends in a reef-knot, then threaded it through the beltloops and pulled the jeans tighter around her waist. She sat down on the bed. She felt like crying, had to control herself. She knew the time to act was looming. She knew what it was to fight for her life. But she also knew the fear would subside quickly, as adrenalin and survival instincts took over. The first move was always the hardest. She breathed deeply, took her mind off it by checking inside the bag. There were two cans of full-sugar Coca Cola. She opened one, appreciated the caffeine and sugar hit as she drank half the can in one go. She placed the can on the floor and turned her attention to the crisps, biscuits and chocolate inside. They were all unfamiliar brands and it reminded her of holidays in Europe, or occasional visits to budget supermarkets. Apart from the cola, she did not recognise any of the brands. With all the fat and sugar content, it wasn’t the healthiest meal, but it was the best she had eaten in a month.

39

Sodertalje, Sweden

 

Time had taken on another dimension. One