weird way about him; he looked predatory. Again, I kicked myself for not listening to my gut when he’d approached on the road with the cab driver.
“I need to pee,” I said.
“So,” Aleks replied, looking blandly at me. “Pee.”
I looked at him, horrified. “You can’t seriously think I’ll just wet my pants?”
“I don’t care what you do,” Aleks said and walked on.
Maksim was at his desk, looking at his computers again. He was very worried about his computer and his radars.
“Please, Maksim,” I called. “I need to pee.”
He groaned. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
I was going to pull out all the stops. “How can you say that you’ll keep me safe but treat me like a prisoner? Please, just let me pee. You can send your guards with me or whatever. I just… I can’t just go, you know? It’s…embarrassing.”
Maksim sighed exaggeratedly. “Fine,” he said, gesturing to Crutch. “Take her.”
The guy with the crutch – Mikael, I’d learned – looked up at Maksim, surprised. Me?” he asked.
“You’re just sitting there, aren’t you? Make yourself useful.”
This was better than I’d expected it would be. Mikael wasn’t very mobile on his crutch. I could get away from him if I planned it right.
“Fine,” he said, hobbling to me.
He dropped the crutch and balanced on one leg while he fumbled with the ropes, trying to untie them. It took him quite some time, and I struggled to be patient. Finally, the ropes slackened around my waist and arms and I rubbed my wrists and ankles where they hurt. My skin was red, and touching my wrists stung.
“Don’t try anything funny,” Mikael said. He pulled out a gun and pointed it at me.
“I won’t,” I said, and for a moment I truly meant it. I didn’t want him to shoot me. He poked me with the gun, and I yelped.
“That way,” he said, and I started moving, with him hobbling after me with his gun.
I walked in the direction he kept waving at, finally going through a half-broken door that led into a toilet stall. The place smelled like stale urine even though it hadn’t been used for what seemed to be years. The toilet bowl didn’t have a cover. The door didn’t close properly, and Mikael hovered outside. I watched him, nervous. I pulled down my pants and peed. I actually did have to go; it had been hours since I’d been to a bathroom.
When I pulled up my pants again, I knew my time was running out, and I still didn’t know how I was going to get out. I tried to flush, but apparently the toilet didn’t work. The basin had running water, so I washed my hands. When I pushed the door open, shaking my hands to get rid of the excess water, Mikael nodded and waved the gun at me again.
“Can you not point that thing at me?” I asked. I hated the feel of a gun trained on me.
Mikael laughed and pointed the weapon at my face. “Does it scare you?” He moved a little closer, struggling to keep his balance on his crappy crutch with his other arm up in the air. He took one more step, and the crutch slipped out from under him, probably from the water I’d splashed all over the place, and he fell backward. The gun flew up, and when Mikael hit the ground, he fired an accidental shot. The ceiling fell in patches around us.
Mikael lay on the floor, cursing, and I ran. I didn’t know which way to go, but the building wasn’t that big. I headed for the window closest to me, the one with most of the glass missing, and climbed through. I cut my leg but couldn’t stop to worry about it.
The building was surrounded by dark trees. I started running but tripped over a body on the ground. I yelped and backed away from it. I stared at the dead man and repeated, “No, no, no.”
Shouts from inside snapped me back into action, and a gun fired. I ran for the trees, hurrying up against the hill side. Bullets flew past me, but they were scattered as if they weren’t sure which direction to shoot.
Out of nowhere, strong, large hands grabbed my arms, and I screamed. A thick hand clapped over my mouth, muffling the sound, and I was yanked into the trees. I fought and kicked. I refused to be taken again. I bit the hand around my mouth.
“Fuck!” a familiar voice yelped. “Angela!”
I stopped