Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
The bubbling of the water filters.
My strangled breaths.
It took me a couple of minutes until I was sure: the Midnight Chemist was gone. I was alone. Now was my chance.
I struggled against my binds, hard, using as much force I could muster, adrenaline fueling my muscles. I grunted against the rag in my mouth, feeling the hard leather of the binds cut into my wrists. I didn’t care. I pushed harder, fighting against the forces that held me down on that bed.
Something snapped on my left arm. I focused all my strength there, pulling up, fisting my hand, and tugging, grunting, crying.
Another snap, loud this time. My hand swung upward as the binds dropped off my wrists.
I immediately went for the blindfold, tearing it off before I pulled out the gag and took a deep breath of musty air before bending over the table, nearly throwing up. I held it together. I had to focus on getting out, not getting sick. I went for the other binds next, the latches easy to unclip now that I had one hand free.
I didn’t even bother looking around. I wanted out. I stumbled off the table and saw a set of stairs, likely the same ones the Midnight Chemist used to leave. I ran, hurtling toward them. I didn’t care that they bent under my weight; I just needed to get out. The outline of the door appeared to glow like a portal above me, light shining from the other side.
I pushed it open and climbed out before I fell to my knees.
But I still wasn’t free. I couldn’t slow down. I got back up and looked around, seeing I was now in an empty room, the windows boarded shut from the inside. I went for the door, not caring about all the sound I was making. The door dumped me out into a dark hallway. I went left, running, nearly tripping, gaining my footing, running faster. I saw the front door.
I flew through it, out into the sunlight. There were trees all around me. I took off into them, wanting to put that horror show of a house as far behind me as possible. I was hoping I’d find a neighbor’s house, someone who could help me call for help, but I must have run in a direction that took me deeper into the surrounding woods. I started to get scared that I’d run out of one nightmare and into another—dying of exposure in some mountainous wilderness—but the tree line finally gave way and opened up onto someone’s backyard.
I hurtled out of the woods like a zombie. Dirty with sticks and leaves on my clothes. I was conscious of the fact that I was likely in Northern Georgia, trespassing on someone’s property, but what other choice did I have? I could keep running until I found a gas station, somewhere I could use a phone, but that meant having to potentially outrun the Midnight Chemist and being caught again.
No. I had to take a risk. Had to hope whoever lived here wasn’t a racist trash bag with a quick and uneducated trigger finger.
Instead of knocking on their kitchen window, I went around to the front door and rang the bell. The minute or so it took for them to open felt like an eternity. Like at any moment, I’d be grabbed from behind and dragged into the back of a truck.
But I wasn’t. A woman in Lululemon opened the door, a water bottle in her hand, and immediately looked at me with suspicion that quickly shifted to worry, her plucked brows drawing together on her thin face.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am. I just need to use your phone. I was— kidnapped.”
The word was hard to get out. Her eyes went wide as she pushed the door open.
“Oh Lord. Richard! This man says he needs help. Says he’s been kidnapped. Bring your phone, quick!” She patted at her leggings. “Wait, I have mine here. Oh my. Here, call whoever you need.”
I grabbed her fuchsia-pink phone and dialed the first number that came to mind. A number I had memorized just in case something like this ever happened.
“Hello?” His voice rang like the chorus of a dozen angels singing in my ear. It was that fucking nice.
“Gabriel, oh Gabe, I’m so fucking happy to hear your voice.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Noah said, a hand on the back of his neck. He leaned against the hotel dresser before Jake put an arm around his shoulder, seemingly steadying him.
I’d just finished telling the group what had happened. They were all here, gathered around me. I couldn’t go home, and I definitely couldn’t go back to Gabriel’s house, so I got myself a room in a hotel. A room on the top floor, and not because I wanted to spend more money but because I wanted to be as far away from the ground as possible. I didn’t want any chances of someone breaking in through a window while I slept.