Chapter One – Prologue
Chapter One – Prologue
I went to the woods to get away, to a place where the streams were swollen with snowmelt
and the first signs of spring were beginning to timidly appear: the trillium, the crocus,
the sprouts of wild daffodils peeking out through the warming earth between a thick layer
of leaves and dead brush. Even the bare trees that had been left for dead the fall before
were beginning to send out small shoots – as if they were scouts making sure the coast was
clear before declaring that spring had finally arrived. This was April, a hellish and
fickle month. Why I dared go camping on my own during such a feral time of year no one
understood, least of all me. But this was not the only recent and impulsive act in my
repertoire; I was building up quite a portfolio of foolish deeds. I preferred to think of
it as finding myself; that’s what women do, especially at twenty-one. With college behind
me and no solid job prospects, no cause to champion, no passion to fulfill, perhaps the
woods would give me inspiration, or at the very least ground me; set me solidly into the
real world where I had real problems – like rent, food, a car payment I couldn’t afford.
Little things like that.
I pitched my small tent by the river making sure to build the fire on an elevation high
enough so the rising river waters wouldn’t be washing me out in the middle of the night. I
liked the sound of the water rushing by me at a furious clip on its way to the bigger
river, on its way to the sea. This was what I’d gone there for: the call of nature drawing
me into its rhythms, settling me down, taking all the disparate pieces of Kristen Davies
and putting them back together into a reasonable form. I’d been a puzzle for months,
declining invitations I normally accepted, breaking up with my boyfriend, quitting my job
at the brokerage that paid me more than I really earned, and ignoring the piles of letters
from potential law schools that I had at one time so greedily coveted. Six months before,
my life story had already been written; the book staring me in the face. All I had to do
was open the cover and begin to read from the pages. No sweat. No doubts. No youthful
angst to complicate what had easily fallen into my lap, what seemed written in stone.
Maybe it would have been a good life, but I’ll never know that now.
I built my fire in a clearing and put on a pot of water – always my first task when
camping. Then I found the hotdogs and buns in my backpack, plus all the condiments in
little packages that I’d sneakily swiped from a coffee shop, where just that morning I’d
had coffee with my friend Teri. Keep it simple – my basic rule of camping. It isn’t the
place for gourmet food. I had cereal for morning, a few snack bars and two apples. Plus
there was more of the same easy stuff in the cooler inside the trunk of my car. I had
enough for three days, which was all I could spare from my real life. I figured it was
just enough to lift my spirits, turn my life around and give me motivation to press on.
Tall order, yes. But at twenty-one, I hadn’t lost faith in miracles.
Maybe it was too early to be camping in the woods that spring, too cold, too spooky. When
night fell, the bottom dropped out of the sky so quickly that I’d hardly stoked the fire
high enough to feel the comfort of its warmth. Clouds rushed in during the late afternoon
so all the light I had was what I created on my own.
In the middle of nowhere, down a faint path, on the banks of the river, alone. Wild dogs
howled in the distance. Or maybe it was coyotes or, even better, wolves howling at the
missing moon. I shivered cold and grabbed a blanket to pull around me. What was there to
do now? I’d set up camp and the hotdogs were already devoured and trying to settle inside
my belly. I had nothing to read – on purpose I didn’t bring any books. This trek to the
woods was to be a spiritual renewal as much as it was a practical one, so with such lofty
goals, I deliberately packed like an Indian on a sacred quest.
Sadly, this damp and brooding April night was not one for sacred quests. Goblins jumped
from the surrounding shadows, creepy noises bombarded my ears. Tricksters and wood elves
seemed far too active for that time of year. Weren’t they supposed to hold up in their
caves until the summer’s warmth made it safe for them to surface?
I tried shaking off my anxiety but my psyche would have none of that. It chose to freeze
up instead, when it really wasn’t all that cold, certainly not with the fire and the
blanket. It chose to wrap my mind around dangerous thoughts instead of fixing on the
positive. I’d gone camping alone in the woods three times before and nothing like this had
ever occurred.
In retrospect, I suppose my uneasiness might have been premonitions, nothing tricky
about that. And maybe if I’d actually listened to my rampant fears, I might have acted
sensibly, packed my things and left. But that night I was operating out of desperation,
knowing that I had choices to make. I was determined to make these three days work in my
favor. What did it say about my character if I split with the first sign of something
creepy invading my mind?
I stared at the fire watching my hot breath make smoke in the air and then as the fire’s
heat consumed it. I tried to hypnotize my mind, calm my thoughts, sing happy songs inside
my head. But even sung aloud in a timid voice there was little effect.
Movements. Sounds. Critters in the underbrush. A coyote maybe, but likely just a curious
raccoon.
Maybe I needed more time. A night’s sleep; a day’s rest. Retreat to the tent and snuggle
into the sleeping bag. In the morning, I’d get my bearings, I’d make the campsite a home.
I’d do incantations to keep me safe. If only I could have fallen asleep.
Only problem, I couldn’t move into my tent, even though it was just a few feet behind
me. Minutes later, I was still huddled in my blanket staring at the fire when something
brilliant flashed before my eyes, then disappeared just as fast.
There was movement and murmuring voices, and then nothing. Before I could make myself
respond, my eyes were blinded by whatever scratchy thing that covered my head, and two
strong arms lifted my body from the ground. Over a man’s shoulder. I could tell this was a
man by his strength and by his scent: a musky, masculine odor that seemed to take my
breath away. I tried to scream. I also tried to move my arms and legs in frantic motions.
That’s when I discovered that my feet had mysteriously been tied together and my hands
were also trapped inside the woolen blanket. I could barely budge, and my screams became
no more than muffled shouts, while the hand that clamped itself against my back was hard
and unyielding.
Running now, we seemed to bounce along, darting this way and that to avoid the trees, my
ride more terrorizing by the second. The only sound was that of boots slashing through the
underbrush, at least two pair, though the details were as fuzzy then as they are to me
now. My head bumped into trees at least three times, the instant headache compounding my
horror. My bouncing ass and legs took a pounding with my captor seeming to weave
recklessly as if he were drunk, while through my jeans I could feel sharp branches rake
across my skin. In my mouth, the rancid taste of the sour smelling blanket turned me
dangerously nauseous.
My captor finally slowed to a walk; perhaps we were out of the woods. But the sound of a
door banging startled me further; although there was nothing to ease me, nothing but panic
further ransacking my fractured psyche.
Dropped, my shoulder banged hard against a floor. I struggled to remove myself from the
blanket, but I was tied up like a Christmas package. My hands were useless, having been
locked to my sides and bound with rope. My shoulders suffered the same fate. And of
course, my feet were tied together. All I could do was flail uselessly against the floor
like a fish flopping on dry land.
I soon gave up.
I tried to calm and catch my breath, but soon the strident sound of, “Please let me out
of here!” burst from my mouth.
A harsh rebuke from my captor followed: ‘Shut up, bitch!’ then a hard kick to my ass
stopped this second furious battle.
I tried to breathe again. “Please don’t hurt me…” I weakly ventured this time.
“I said shut up!” the mean voice sounded off again. Another kick in the ass and I dared
not utter a sound.
The ropes that tied my arms to my hips were loosened, although the relief was only
temporary. Someone grabbed my hands, swiftly buckling my wrists in sturdy cuffs that would
not give. Then my jeans came down, yanked over my hips and down my legs and finally pulled
completely off. Somewhere in the melee of my capture, I’d lost my boots, although the
brown boot socks managed to stay in place. Invading fingers started probing my crotch with
no respect for decency. Decency? What the hell did I expect? The thought of decency was
absolutely absurd under these conditions, especially when staying alive was my most urgent
concern.
“Well, won’t you look at this!” a snarly voice piped up, “No panties and a wet hot
snatch.”
His warm, thick fingers began to poke inside my cunt, no ceremony, no mercy. If I hadn’t
already figured it out, I knew for sure that I would be violated.
I tried to snap my legs shut only to have them pried apart again by these ruthless
hands.
“You picked yourself a randy bitch,” the man snarled again, while further mauling my
crotch and jabbing fingers in both my pussy and my ass. I seized up when he breached the
dry backdoor and bucked hard against the invasion in my ass. Not that my efforts did any
good.
“No! Please!” I screamed. “Not there, please!”
I hated anal, but that wouldn’t matter to these thugs. My life seemed to be slipping
from me fast. How ironic that just as I resolved to get my act together, everything would
be taken from me.
My scream was met with a hard smack on my left ass cheek, then another on the right,
then back and forth like a good old-fashioned spanking until the two orbs were scorched
and stinging, and I was squirming to get away. “Don’t you get it, bitch?” the man said
when he finally stopped. “Keep your trap shut!”
“Maybe she needs to be gagged,” another voice offered up.
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