Thanks to Emmithar for the beta, and thanks for all the comments so far, I enjoy reading what you think!


Chapter 4

Sara could neither stop the trembling nor the tears, trying to listen what was going on but the only thing she realized was that Greg was not helping her. The ground felt cold as ice under her heated skin; she heard again steps behind her.

"Greg, please…," she sobbed.

"Greg's not here," a voice that she recognized as the other man's cut in. "He didn't want you," he added harshly.

Sara lay just still. Greg was not even there. He had left her alone in the hands of that man. The last tidbit of hope she had had was gone.

She heard the slamming of a car door and then the roaring of an engine. Sara tensed panicking, turning herself on her back arduously, lifting her head to see what was going on. He wouldn't… The car moved forward and slowly away from where Sara was lying who breathed relieved. Soon no light of the vehicle was to see anymore and Sara was alone.

Charlie was gone and first there was just the relief. He was gone and he had left her there, alive, at least for now. Even the fact that she was lying somewhere alone without an actual possibility to get away did not lessen Sara's relief at first.

The fear came back later, the fear what would happen if nobody ever found her, if she was not able to free herself.

Sara tried for the umpteenth time to get rid of the tape on her hands, but failed once again. She sat up fully, cursing. If she could at least see anything, she could have made out where she was, could have seen if there was something near her that could help her freeing herself.

Painfully slowly she moved to the side, finally reaching the trunk of a tree. She leaned against it, realizing that she did not have much of a choice than to wait for the morning. Then she would at least be able to see where exactly she was and if she had the possibility of getting away. And maybe, just maybe, somebody would find her. She could not give up quite yet.

Sara even managed to drift off into a light slumber, the exhaustion and tiredness overcoming her. The thoughts and fears swirling through her head did not let her rest though, so she was soon fully awake again, pondering over everything that had happened. Everything seemed like a nightmare, and it had not ended yet.

Sara thought of Greg, still unable to comprehend what he had done and why. She remembered what Charlie had said before he had left. It really registered in her brain only now.

Realization dawned on her which made her feel more lightly. She was still trapped in this nightmare, but at least she could comprehend more of it now. Charlie's last statement had been meant to hurt her, but now that its actual meaning had registered in her, it eased Sara's mind, even though it did not get her out of here.

She waited and the coldness of the night was still creeping into her. Sara shivered, drawing her legs to her chest. She rolled in as best as she could in her position, still leaning against the trunk. She could not keep her eyes open and there was not a point in it anyway, so she gave in to the exhaustion once again, hoping the day would come soon.

Sara had not noticed that she had fallen asleep, but woke up when she could feel something climbing over her. The excited barking had melted with her nightmare and she realized only when she opened her eyes that it was indeed a dog that was jumping around her.

Sara jolted up stunned, looking at the animal.

"She's alive," a voice gasped out then, and Sara looked up further to see an old man standing a few paces behind the dog. "Well, it's not what you would expect, you know," he explained bluntly.


Greg opened his eyes and shut them quickly again when the bright light was blinding them, wondering why the curtain was not drawn over as it usually was when he was sleeping during the day.

The next thing he wondered was why he was sleeping on the couch and why he was not undressed. Then the memories came back out of nothing, and Greg sat up shocked.

Sara. Where was she? What had Charlie done?

Greg could not even remember coming home. The last thing he could recall was that he had looked if the coast was clear to get Sara out.

He was still in the same clothes he had worn then, so much he could tell. And they were stinking, he noticed, sniffing at his sleeve. They smelled like alcohol. But he had not been drinking…

Greg looked around and saw a letter lying on the small table near the couch. He stood up and reached for it, opening it quickly.

Hey Greg,

I've taken care of everything. Don't worry about it anymore.

Your neighbor really thought you were passed out from drinking, even helped me with bringing you in here and told me to wish you a late Happy Birthday.

I hope we'll see each other again some time and will have more fun then.

So long, Charlie

Greg let the letter fall shocked. What had Charlie done to Sara? He had not killed her, had he?

Greg was crying by now. He sat back onto the couch, sobbing. It was his fault. If Sara was dead, it was his fault. Charlie had kidnapped her because of him, had probably killed her because of him and he, Greg, had not hindered him from it. He had not helped Sara; he had left her alone, had left her in the hands of the maniac who was his friend.

Greg was sobbing desperately, his forehead pressed into the couch, feeling as if the pain was ripping him apart.

After several minutes he heard the distant sound of the ring tone of his cell phone and started wondering where it was. He had taken it with him to his and Charlie's trip and was surprised that Charlie had obviously brought it back with him.

Shaking Greg got up and looked around, seeing finally the small bag he had packed for the trip standing near the door. He strode over quickly, rummaging through the bag and taking out his singing and vibrating cell phone.

He could not believe his eyes when he was reading the caller's ID. Sara. Greg swallowed. Was it really her or was it somebody who had found her phone? He had to pick up to find out.

Whoever the caller was, they were not giving up as the phone continued ringing for several more seconds, before Greg finally picked up.

"Hello?" he spoke into the phone asking.

"Greg?" he could hear Sara's voice.

"Sara!" Greg leaned against the wall behind him, relieved.

"It's me," Sara confirmed quietly. "I'm… I'm at the lab," she continued. "Come over please, we need to talk." It was not a request, but a demand, and Greg could not blame her.

"I'll come," he said dejectedly. He was glad that she was alive and apparently well, although he did not know if she was hurt. And he would now have to face the consequences of everything.

"Don't take too long," Sara added, before she cut the call off without another word.

Greg shut off the call as well, letting the phone sink. It was of course no surprise that Sara had gone straight to the lab, turning him in. What else was she supposed to do? He did not know how he she had gotten free, he doubted that Charlie had simply let her go. Unless Charlie had confessed to her that Greg had not known about the kidnapping, which Greg doubted very much, Sara could not assume anything else as that Greg and Charlie had been in it together.

Greg stood up slowly, deciding that he should at least change his clothes. Whatever was waiting for him at the lab, it would not make a good impression if he turned up smelling as if he had tried to drink up courage for the crime. He bagged the worn clothes though, hoping he would maybe be able to proof that Charlie had brought him home unconsciously.

Maybe they would not accuse him for the full range of what had happened. Greg was feeling guilty for what he had done to Sara, even though it was in an attempt to save her. He had hurt her and he doubted that he would ever forgive him that.

It somewhat surprised him that Sara actually trusted him that he would come to the lab, that she had not sent somebody to get him. After all he had done, she could not expect of him to do the right thing.

Greg was just walking out of his apartment when he remembered that his car was still standing parked in the city where he had left it the other night.

He finally arrived later at the lab than Sara would think appropriate, since he had to call a cab, but she had definitely heavier reasons to be angry at him. He could not wait to see her again, and was afraid of it at the same time. Afraid to see that he was hurt, afraid to be confronted with any sentiment she might have towards him, even though they were justified. And afraid of everything else.

TBC