"Shut up and don't move, or I will be forced to hurt you."

I gave a tiny nod, afraid to move. And that's when the doorbell rang. Both of us stood, unmoving, and it rang again.

"Hello?"

For the record, I have to say that I had never in my life been happy to hear the voice of Mrs. Dabney. But, let me tell you: I was happy to hear it then! She could help me!

Red Head spun me around and pushed the gun into my back.

"Listen to me and I'll let you live," he whispered harshly. I nodded. "Answer the door and get rid of her. Do not invite her in, do not let her know I am here. Got it?"

I nodded again, my mouth dry. All my hopes of rescue were dashed. But, as Red Head pushed me to the door, a thought came to me. I knew something this guy didn't. Mrs. Dabney and I have always been life-long enemies, playing pranks on each other. Every time she showed up at the door, I always managed to answer and when I did, I never spoke kindly. All I could hope to get away with in front of Red Head was to talk nicely to her. Maybe, just maybe, she might suspect something. It was a long shot, but it was all I had.

We reached the door and I opened it only a little. Red Head stood behind the door, the gun still pressed into my back.

"Hey, Mrs. Dabney!" I said cheerfully, forcing a smile on my face.

"Hello, Gabe," Mrs. Dabney said, eyeing me warily. "Your mother asked me to check on you."

I made myself smile more. "Thanks, Mrs. Dabney, I'm doing okay. Thanks for checking!"

Red Head jabbed me in the back, and I slammed the door reflexively. Using the gun to move me along, Red Head shoved me into the kitchen. He grabbed a roll of duct-tape from a drawer and immediately taped my hands together.

"Hey, this isn't right!" I said, "You won't get away with this!"

Red Head turned me around and slapped a piece of duct-tape over my mouth. Then he shoved me back into the living room and onto the sofa where he duct taped by ankles and knees together. I couldn't move, could hardly breathe, and I was more scared than I had ever been in my whole life. I tried to struggle against the tape, but it was no use. I was totally immobilized. Red Head leaned over me, his bad breath filling my nose and making me gag.

"This isn't my first rodeo," He whispered. "Listen close. Finding you may have thrown a wrench into my plans, but you may be useful yet. My ride's coming, and your coming with me."

I was hyperventilating through my nose now, scared out of my mind. He was taking me as a hostage and he didn't work alone. This was not good. Red Head pulled out a phone and began texting. A few minutes later, he pocketed it and turned to me.

"Let's go," he growled, grabbing me by the front of my shirt and lifting me up, slinging me over his shoulder.

I saw my phone fall out of my back pocket, onto the floor, unnoticed by my captor. Red Head carried me out the back door and through the garage. The garage door was open on the bottom, just a tiny bit. I assumed that this was how the guy had gotten in. Red Head dropped me on the floor (OW!) and rolled underneath the door, pulling me through behind him. Hands grabbed me from behind and something hit my face. Before I could process what was happening, a horrible smell hit my nose and everything went black.