No doubt my uniform stank of smoke and was dirty from rolling around in the filth back here. Couldn't they have cleaned the vans before they abducted me? I wished I had a change of clothes. I wished I'd had a little warning! If I knew I was going to be kidnapped, I would have worn jeans, for one thing.

"Nobody's hurt me!?" I repeated, incredulous. "You've kidnapped me, just for starters!"

He put his hands up defensively. "Whoa, whoa," he said. "Down with the high-pitched voice and the finger-pointing! If you start complaining and whining and getting all high-pitched with us, my brother's going to make me put the tape back over your mouth. For good. Believe me. You're much better off to just go with the flow. Trust me: there's a good plan in place here. Soon you'll be back in your rich little house with your rich little blonde mommy, and everyone will be happy."

I stubbed my cigarette out on the steel floor of the van. No doubt my uniform stank of smoke and was dirty from rolling around in the filth back here. Couldn't they have cleaned the vans before they abducted me? I wished I had a change of clothes. I wished I'd had a little warning! If I knew I was going to be kidnapped, I would have worn jeans, for one thing.

My conversation with Susan came back to me: What if they killed me? What if I died wearing my BYHS uniform? I'd be stuck wearing it for all eternity. Oh, lord! And I thought Misty looked goofy in those workout duds. That's what I get for laughing at someone else's misfortune! Maybe I could ask the kidnappers to get me a change of clothes? As a last request? Something clean, at least? I sighed. Probably not. Why would they bother?

Still, I would ask them, if it came to it.

What a fate that would be! Me, as a ghostly teenager, stuck, until the end of time, in a hideous school uniform. AND NOT ONLY THAT: a filthy school uniform that stank unbearably. Would living people be able to smell me? Would *I* have to smell me? Forever? That would be the worst! And I wouldn't be able to wash it or change it. No baths or showers...

No one would want to talk to a ghost like that... except maybe a lonely, hormonal, geeky, teenage boy.

Unbidden, a picture of just such a boy leaped into my mind. I had to cover my eyes with my hands... it was just too horrible.

I sighed. It was not the best prospect for an afterlife.

Shaking off my morbid thoughts, I tried to shift my thoughts to my present situation.

I wondered: Would they have a toothbrush for me? How long would they keep me prisoner? Would I be able to take a shower?

Just about the stupidest thing I could do would be to tell them I wasn't Maisie. There was no telling what they would they do when they found out they had the wrong girl. I didn't want to imagine.

The only sensible thing to do, was to be to pretend to be Maisie, and look for a chance to escape.

My companion-abductor was smoking yet another of his stanky cigarettes.

"Can I ask you something?"

"No more cigarettes, if that's your question. I'm running low."

"That's not my question. But now that you mention it, why are you running low? If you knew you were kidnapping me, why didn't you get some extra, ahead of time?"

"Oh," he said with disdain. "A Monday-morning quarterback! Everything's easy, as long as somebody else is doing it! Well, maybe I was busy doing other stuff. Did you ever think of that? We had a lot of things to think about. I suppose you think you could have done a better job."

I bit my tongue. It was not a good question to answer, so I returned to my original question. "No, what I wanted to know is this: I've seen your face and your brother's face. Aren't you worried that I could identify you?"

"No," he said proudly. "We look like everybody. What are you going to say? 'Average height, average weight, average build, average looking, no distinguishing marks'?"

He was right. What could I say about them?

"That's why we were chosen, because we're average. And when this is all over, we're going to be far, far away from here. Nobody's ever going to see us again. So, you can look at us all you want, not that you're going to see us all that much." He laughed.

''Chosen?" I repeated. "Chosen by whom?"

The driver called out, "That's enough talking back there!"

My bald companion raised his eyebrows and made the motion of zipping his lips. I nodded and kept quiet. My legs were still bound. I thought about freeing them, but didn't. Even though it would give me a chance to run when the van opened, they'd expect it, and my running would make them more vigilant. If I left the tape on, it would make me seem more passive, and they might be more likely to let their guard down later.

So, I arranged my skirt as demurely as I could and tried to keep my head from knocking against anything as we continued down the bad, bumpy road.

Eventually the van stopped. The driver got out and opened the side door. He looked at me for a moment, then reached in to pick me up. Just before he put his arms under me, he said, "If you scream, if you scratch, hit, or bite me, I will drop you. Hard. Got it?"

I nodded.

I'm not saying I'm heavy — I'm not — but I was surprised at how easily he picked me up. He must be awfully strong, because I felt weightless in his arms. The man carried me with no effort whatsoever.

As he took me toward a dilapidated cabin, I tried to take in as much as possible.

First of all, we were deep in the woods. And I mean deep. We were on a hill, so I could see for quite some distance, but there was nothing but trees, all the way to the horizon.

"It's not the end of the world," the bald man quipped, "but you can see it from here!"

The driver frowned at his brother's attempt at humor. Then he pointed out to me, "Look all around you. There are no neighbors. None at all. You can scream your head off, and no one will hear you. But don't. Especially while I'm carrying you, or I'll drop you butt-first in the mud. And you wouldn't like that, because this lovely place here doesn't doesn't have a shower." He chuckled. "It doesn't even have running water!"

"Oh, boy," I said. "What fun." I wasn't sure how stinky I was now, but I was sure I'd be a lot stinkier before this was over.

"Yeah," he agreed. "You can take a shower when you go back home. You can even take two."

He grinned, but in a good-natured way, which was puzzling, but a little encouraging. I doubted that either of these men were capable of hurting me. I mean, I know that they kidnapped me, but I didn't think they could do me any bodily harm, let alone kill me. Oddly enough, I actually felt safe in this man's arms.

You're fooling yourself! a voice in my head cautioned, but I didn't think so.

There was a lot of snow on the ground, but not under the pine trees. There, the ground was covered with brown pine needle, pine cones, and scrubby plants.

I hung my head back to look down the road we'd come. My captor didn't seem to mind that I got my bearings. I guess he figured it would keep me from running away. Or maybe he liked the view and wanted me to enjoy it. Who knows? He actually turned around so I could get the whole panorama. I straightened my head and saw why there were so many bumps on the ride up here: the "road" was a long, packed-dirt trail with two deep ruts from truck tires.

The van, which was dark green, was parked in a clearing. There was room for a few more cars or trucks.

The only other thing to see was the small, two-story cabin standing nearby. Judging from how it looked outside, it was a filthy rat trap. My skin crawled at the sight of it.

"Tain't much, but it'll be home for a spell," the bald man laughed in a put-on hillbilly accent.

He ran ahead and held the door open as his brother carried me inside. The moment we entered, my nostrils were hit by an odor that I knew instantly, even though I'd never smelled it before: it was the scent of mice. Lots of mice. I wanted to cry, but I held it in, pushed it down.

The ground floor was one big room, with a living area on the left and a kitchen on the right, divided by a set of stairs. It might have been nice, long ago, when it was first built, but I wouldn't bet on it.

My captor carried me up the stairs. At the top was a tiny, windowless landing with a door open on the left and a door closed on the right. He carried me into the room on the left and gently set me down on the dirty floor.

"Ugh," I said. "Do you have a broom and a mop I can borrow?"

He laughed. "There's no such thing in the place, as you can see. Don't let that worry you, though. You won't be here that long."

In a glance, I took the room in. It was small, and had a single window. There was no glass in the window, and three boards were screwed into the frame. The gaps between the boards were too small for me to squeeze through.

In one corner was a sleeping bag, four six-packs of 2-liter water bottles, and a cardboard box full of snack bars and packaged sandwiches, the kind you can buy from a vending machine.

The only piece of "furniture" was in the corner by the window: it was a big white plastic bucket, like the kind you see in restaurant kitchens. Next to it was a roll of plastic bags and a 12-pack of toilet paper.

"You can line the can with the bags. Then tie 'em and toss 'em out the window," he said.

"Oh, gross!" I protested. "You have got to be kidding me!"

He didn't give any answer, other than a shrug. Then he walked out of the room, shut the door, and locked it. He took the key out of the lock and went downstairs.

I sat there for a while and listened, but there was nothing to hear but the wind in the trees and the occasional voices of my captors below.

© 2007 Kaleigh Way