CHAPTER FIVE

The car jerked, and Samantha flew into the side of the trunk. Her deep gash on her cheek began to sting with an unusual intensity. She moaned with pain. She had a feeling that David was jerking the car on purpose; he seemed like the type of guy to do that.

Samantha laid there trying to figure out what to do. She figured that David was going to take her to the same place that he took Kyra. In a way, she was excited for this, but mostly, she dreaded it, feared it really.

On the bright side, Samantha thought, I found Kyra. She gave a little chuckle. At least I can make myself laugh.

Samantha lay scrunched up in the trunk with nothing to occupy her but her racing thoughts concerning her fate. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her blood boiling. She knew that this was uncharacteristic of her to be terrified, but this man had held a gun to her head, tackled her, and hit her. She was sure that he would be willing to do anything to get what he wanted.

Her thoughts wondered to Martin. What is he doing right now? She craved his embrace of protection and warmth. She gave a little chuckle at the thought of her wanting the one thing she couldn't have. She remembered when it was hard to want him. It took her forever to allow the world to know that Martin was her boyfriend. At first she tried to shut him out, but her heart betrayed her brain. And now here she was thinking of that as a tiny tiff in their relationship.

Samantha was yanked from her thoughts when, with a jerk, the car stopped. Samantha's breath caught in her throat when she heard the sound of the car door opening and the sound of footsteps growing closer. She rolled onto her back with her hands up in the air, ready for anything. The only sound droning out the foot steps were the uneasy, tiny breathes that she was taking. Her heart pounded like a sledge hammer. She felt as though she was in a movie that was running in slow motion.

With the sound of the key entering the lock and a quick twist, the trunk lid popped opened. David looked down at her with a scorn look on his face, and the sparkle in his eyes was enough to make Samantha cringe. He couldn't help but gleam at his triumph. He had managed to grab a trained FBI agent; there wasn't anything better than that, well aside from what he was planning. He reached down and grabbed Samantha by her upper arm, violently dragging her out. When Samantha resisted, he grew increasingly agitated. "C'mon, get out!" he barked.

Samantha tried to go fast enough for him, but her best wasn't enough. She had managed to scrap her shin and forearm. Blood trickled out causing pain to rush through her body. She didn't say a word to him, however. With her eyes blazing into David's flesh, she stubbornly gave him a look of contempt.

When Samantha finally tore her eyes from the heartless stranger, she found herself in the driveway of a beat up house, somewhere in a neighborhood that nobody in their right mind would choose to raise their kids. The house looked like it would fall over at any minute. To Samantha, the Leaning Tower of Pisa was steadier than this old wood building. The house was yellow, complete with chipped paint and cracked wood. What was once white shutters hung on one hinge on the windows. One of the windows was shattered making clear gazing in the house impossible, not that anybody would want to. The lawn was brown, and the once beautiful roses that outlined the perimeter of the house craved water in the scorching sun. Black shingles from the roof littered the front yard, making the house look, if possible, more damaged. The house looked like a house that would be used in the movies to portray murder scenes or poltergeists. Because the house gave Samantha shivers, her brown eyes began to wonder around the neighborhood.

Samantha turned her attention to the other houses. There wasn't anything different about them except the color and the plethora of dirty, run down cars parked along the streets and in the driveways. The streets looked like one big dumpster because of the amount of trash that rested on them. She didn't even know that a neighborhood existed like this one, not even in New York.

Samantha finally snapped her head back to her attacker. "What are you going to do with me?" Samantha spat. Her eyes were burning into his as a look of disgust overtook her face.

David gave a tug on Samantha's arm, and when she groaned, he smiled. "I was going to kill you, but now I realize that you could be more valuable to me if you stayed alive, for now."

"You can go screw yourself. There is no way that I'm going to help you," Samantha said. She gave him a look of scorn.

David laughed. "That's what Kyra said at first. You should see her now. She is more than willing to help." He looked down at Samantha and gave her a smirk. He began to pull harder on her arm as he dragged her to the front door.

When David opened the front door, the smell of mold and mildew lingered in Samantha's nostrils. Her face contorted into disgust; she brought her right hand up and plugged her noise.

To Samantha, it didn't seem possible, but the house inside was worse. The furniture was sporadically placed in random areas of the living room. Take out cartoons and empty beer bottles littered the coffee table and floor. The carpet was covered with dirt and hair. Dust particles roamed around the air freely. An inch of dust covered the books that were on the book shelves which lined the walls. Rays of light managed to seep through the windows and provide inadequate lighting. Straight ahead was a hallway that led into the kitchen. David started to follow the path. The kitchen was worse. The linoleum floor was speckled with food stains. Dishes piled in the sink. Coca roaches feasted on the moldy food left on the counter. Samantha winced with disgust. How could somebody live like this?

Just a few feet ahead of Samantha was a wooden, chipped door.

David opened the door exposing a staircase that led to the depths of the house. The only thing that was visible was the blanket of thick darkness. David pushed her violently; Samantha's body jerked forward as she flew in. She lost her footing and fell to the ground, narrowly missing the stairs. She lifted her head to stare at the man, her brown eyes silently pleaded with David.

"I'll be back when I need you," he grunted before he shut the door. He slammed it so hard that the walls began to vibrate.

Samantha cringed at the sound of the door slamming. Her gaze stayed fixed on the door to see if he was going to open it. When it was evident that David wasn't going to, she stood up and jiggled the door handle. It was locked. She turned on her heels and ventured deep into the house.

There were so many unnecessary things in the basement. There were two bikes hanging from the ceiling. In the far right hand corner was a wash machine and dryer. There was a wooden counter that ran along side of the right wall. Boxes rested on it collecting dust. To the left were more boxes stacked taller than Samantha. A snow board leaned against the wall. Straight in front of the stairs was a small window which was the only thing allowing light in the dark basement. Thick bars on the window thwarted Samantha's plan for escape.

There was one thing that she didn't see: Kyra.

"Kyra," Samantha called in a low voice. She began to walk to the dark corners, feeling with her arms for a warm body.

No answer.

"Kyra, are you here?" she said a little bit louder. She moved to another corner.

No answer.

"This is the FBI," she said. There weren't any more dark corners to feel through. She looked around which was pointless. She placed her hands on her hips and sighed.

No answer.

She sighed again. She slumped over. She was so sure that Kyra was going to be in there.

I guess I didn't find her after all.

She was frazzled as possible sceneries arose in her mind.

What if he killed her already?

With exhaustion evident in her eyes and defeat written all over her face, Samantha found a spot on the floor and sat down. She brought her knees to her chest, and she wrapped her arms around her legs and placed her forehead on her knees. The cement ground was cold which caused shivers to shoot through her body; however, this only lasted a few seconds before heat swept over her body. Her breathing was labored because of the amount of dust and dirt that had collected in the ancient basement. She coughed and sneezed a few times. She lifted her head and concentrated on the door as if, if she stared at it long enough, it would open. After a few minutes of intense concentration, she replaced her forehead back on her knees. She looked to her feet and watched her toes wiggle in her sneakers.

"Think, think, think," she reiterated in a low, quivering voice. She took a deep breath.

Instead of thinking of a way out, Samantha found her thoughts drifting to her boyfriend.

She missed him. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to make love with him. She wanted to smell his scent, the scent that was undeniably his. She wanted to sit next to him. She longed for his kiss, his presence.

All of a sudden, Samantha's stomach began to churn. She felt bad for not calling Martin. If she knew Martin, and she did, then he would be beating himself up for going home. Her heart panged at the thought of Martin beating himself up. He was so placid, compassionate, and loving. It was evident he would put her before him always without reservation. He was never indecisive about that, and Samantha knew that that would never change.

Samantha couldn't figure out why she hadn't called Martin. She couldn't figure out why she went alone to David's house. She knew better than that. She was just so desperate to find Kyra; she didn't even know why. And know instead of the team looking for Kyra, they have to exhaust everything to find an FBI agent who didn't have enough common sense to know not to go alone to a suspected kidnapper's house.

She began to gently bang her head against the wall. "You're so dumb," she said aloud. She lowered her eyes and gazed around the basement for the umpteenth time.

Samantha realized that her body was growing heavy. Sweat began to trickle down her face. The air in the basement was humid and blistering. She stretched out so that her body would stop conserving heat. Her breathing became deeper still as the smoldering heat made its way inside her lungs, burning them. Water became the primary thing on her mind. She started to grow restless and anxious. She shifted her body every couple of seconds, each position worse than the last.

Then a wonderful memory of her and Martin filled Samantha's head with nothing but warm thoughts. She immediately stopped flailing and relaxed. She finally settled with sprawling out on the floor.

-Flashback-

The moon was the only thing that allowed the couple to see what was in front of them.

Samantha and Martin strolled through the park hand and hand. They decided to go for a midnight walk. The weather was more than perfect.

"Your first kiss?" Samantha asked Martin. She turned to him and gave him a sly smile.

"That was," he paused and looked to the stars, "Sarah Jenkins in the tenth grade. She was my major crush. It took me almost a month to ask her out, and when I finally did, she said yes. I was so excited. We ended up bumping noses the first time. I can still feel the pain," Martin explained.

Samantha chuckled. She brought her free hand to her mouth to muffle her laughter. "I can totally picture you being an awkward nerd when you were younger." She lowered her hand and looked at him a smile. "No offense."

Martin stopped walking and turned to face her. He was pretending to be hurt, but his smile and sparkle in his eyes betrayed him. "Take that back." He jutted out his lower lip like a small child pouting.

"No," she said firmly. She crossed her arms.

"If you don't, I will tickle you. We all know how ticklish you are," Martin said bringing his hands up to her stomach but not quite touching.

Samantha released her hand from his and turned on her heels. She began to sprint zigzag lines. "You have to catch me first," she giggled.

Martin stood there for a few seconds watching her run. He placed his hands in his pockets and smiled to himself. He figured he should give Samantha a head start.

Samantha ran down the path, giggling the whole way. She looked back often to see where her boyfriend was.

She could hear Martin's laughter. It was a deep laugh, one full of pleasure and happiness.

Samantha wasn't fast enough. Martin easily caught up to her. He placed one hand underneath her knees and the other in the middle of her back. He swept her off her feet and began to spin her around. Samantha wrapped her arms around his neck as Martin spun faster and faster. Their laughter was so loud that it could have woken the dead.

Suddenly, Martin's foot hit a hole in the grass, and his foot gave away. They both went crashing down on the grass with a thud. Samantha landed on her back, stunning her. Martin landed on top of her, trying desperately not to crush her with his weight. The couple stared at each other for a moment before bursting out with laughter.

"I caught you. You have to apologize," Martin whispered, gazing down at her.

Samantha smiled and grabbed the back of Martin's neck. She brought his face so closed to her that she could feel his breath on her. "How about I show you how sorry I am," she said in a seductive tone.

Their lips met with a fiery passion. Their tongues explored each other's mouth as their hands ran over the other's body, touching and feeling.

-End Flashback-

That night had ended up to be a great night.

Now more than ever Samantha wanted to escape. She flew off of the floor and began searching through the boxes for a possible weapon. Box after box turned out to be empty until finally she found a weapon. It was a hammer. She crept up the stairs and rasped on the door.

A few minutes had passed before David came to the door. "What do you want?" he said in a scratchy voice.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Samantha called. There was no answer. "Please?"

The door slowly swung open as David peaked through the crack with his head. "Better make it quick."

Samantha hid her weapon behind her back as she emerged from her dark entrapment. She walked passed David. When he turned his back to close the door, Samantha took her chance. She securely grabbed the hammer with both hands and raised it to her side. With all her heart and soul it in, Samantha swung the object straight into David's gut just as he was turning around.

With a stunned look on his face, David's hands snapped to his stomach. He gave a grunting noise as he double over.

Samantha raised the hammer above her head and with all her energy she drove it into the back of his neck.

David fell to the floor, pain shooting through his body. He began to yell profanity. He tried to get up but fell backwards.

Samantha dropped the hammer. She ran straight ahead to the living room. Her heart pounded. She knew that if he caught her, she would be dead. When Samantha had finally reached the door, she jiggled the handle with desperation. It took only a few seconds for Samantha to realize that the door was locked. "No, come on. Open," she cried.

She was trapped.

Samantha looked back to see David standing before her. He slowly stalked to her like a cat would do to a cornered mouse. He was angry; his face was glowing red.

Samantha's body began to shiver with fear.

David grabbed Samantha by the shoulder. His eyes were glassed over. His teeth were grinding together. He stared at her for a split second before flinging her into the wall.

When she hit the wall, the wall and door vibrated. She fell to the floor in a heap. Her left arm had hit the wall in an unusual position causing excruciating pain to shoot through her body. Her right hand held her swelling arm. The gash on her cheek burned; the scraps on her shin and forearm burned. She looked up at David who still had anger written all over his face.

Without a thought in the world, David reached down and secured his gigantic hands around Samantha's petite neck. He squeezed as hard as he could.

Samantha tried to kick him, hit him, and punch him. She brought her hands up and grabbed his hands. She tried to get away, but she was no match for the 200 lb. muscular man. Her head began to throb. Her lungs screamed for air. She tried to open her mouth to scream, but she just gagged. Her heart was pounding out of her chest. Samantha's body screamed for air, craved really. Her lungs were on fire from the lack of oxygen. Her vision began to get cloudy. Suddenly, just when Samantha began to think she couldn't take it anymore, David released his hands from around her neck.

Samantha never thought that oxygen could be so replenishing; it felt like heaven. Her first breathes were stinging, but it felt good. She began to cough horribly. She rolled on her side and curled up in the fetal position. Coughing began to rack her body causing her whole body to shake. Tears rolled down her cheeks; her face felt like it was on fire. The coughing was forcing Samantha to take deep breathes. She grabbed at her throat feeling like she was unable to breathe.

David just paced ahead of Samantha. He rubbed his temples. He was calmer; even though, worry was evident on his face.

When Samantha's coughing subsided, she didn't move. She laid there waiting for David to do something. She was weak. She hadn't eaten in a while. Her mouth screamed for water.

"Look what you made me do," he said in a frightfully calm voice.

Samantha cringed when David reached down for her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her to her feet. Her head hurt; it was spinning. Her breathing wasn't back to normal yet. She kept slipping from David's grasp. Samantha saw that David was taking her back to her cage.

"You're so lucky that I need you, otherwise you'd be dead right now," he grunted.

Lucky me, she thought. She tried to speak, but her brain wasn't forming the necessary words.

With a creak of the door, David opened the door. He placed her on the ground at the top of the stairs. Then he slipped from her sight and closed the door. Samantha heard a lock sound. "You're not coming out for anything."

Samantha lay at the top of the stairs, unmoving. Moving caused too much pain right now. Her bones shouted in protest when she tried. Her arm was getting purple and blue in color. Blood started to trickle from her scratches on her forearm. Breathing became easier with each passing second.

"Martin," she whined. Tears stung the back of her eyeballs threatening to fall. "Where are you?" She curled her body into a ball. She brought her hands to her chest as if they would protect her.

Within a few minutes of lying on the ground, Samantha was sound asleep. Exhaustion had finally plagued her to the point where she fell asleep with ease.

XxX

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Coming up….Martin finds out the shocking truth.