– Find Part 1 here – Chapter list here –
The helicopter raced over the flat landscape in a roar of sound and dust. As we moved fast and low I glanced at my traveling companion.
He was indeed handsome but as I studied him a little more closely I began to realize that those rugged good looks could equally be described as hardened. There was doubtless a curl to his lip that could be described as ‘callous’, beneath that coal black mustache. I took a moment to adjust and reframe him as kidnapper rather than rescuer. To have thought him a saviour, only to find he was just my next captor was to be lifted and given hope, and then to have it cruelly taken away.
Regardless, I was no longer being fed like a dog nor chained to a wall in the hot Texas sun. My companion handed me a bottle of water from his pack. Things were looking up.
“Where are we going, I asked.
“Somewhere nice,” he replied.
“That’s all I get?” I said.
“Come on,” said my companion. “You don’t really expect me to tell you do you?”
I glanced out of the small Perspex window and saw our shadow to our left dancing over the flat desert ground. That must mean we were traveling south with the afternoon sun in this position.
“Why,” I asked. “I don’t understand any of this. What do you people want with me?”
“Don’t ask me. I’m just here to deliver you,” came the reply, followed by an awkward silence.
“Do you do much of this sort of thing,” I said.
Again silence.
We passed over several dry rivers and some with modest water. About half an hour later the helicopter climbed higher and I saw a line of trees in the changing landscape. We slowed, rounded behind a small hanger, and landed a moment later. I was firmly guided from the helicopter into the building, a strong hand holding my arm. A few words of Spanish were exchanged with the new pilot and I was placed in the rear seat of a small twin-engined aircraft. Its props spun up as soon as my traveling companion secured my belt and he took his position beside the pilot. Then we were rolling. The engine note climbed and a moment later we were racing down the grass strip, the nose of the powerful little aircraft lifted and we climbed into a clear blue sky.
I guessed that by now we were well inside the Mexican border. I could be going anywhere.
+++
I dozed fitfully in the stuffiness of the aircraft. My mind drifted through the mists of half sleep, seeing the people back at the ranch, the chain to the wall, Annabel’s smashed up trail bike. And the sun, ever oppressive, hammering down on me. My face still hurt from Mark’s brutal attentions, and in the pit of my stomach I felt a sadness I struggled to define.
I think it was partly a sense of desperation, and partly fear. I had no idea where I was being taken, nor what would happen to me once there. Being kidnapped reduces one to a commodity. But who would pay a ransom for me? And if no ransom were to be paid, then what could be my fate?
As these thoughts swirled around within my head they did so against a dark background noise of sadness. I had lost all hope of ever seeing Annabel. Her fresh young face, her soft touch, and the way she held me in her strong arms. I felt I would never again know the joyful freedom of the way we fit together. The way she freely gave herself to me, unselfconsciously and with such an innocent enthusiasm. Nevermore would I know how it felt to be wrapped in her embrace, or how to feel her body warmly protecting me. I could never replace that experience, even if I had the will to try.
Perhaps the memory of these things was enough. Perhaps that would see me through whatever lay ahead. But to have found love, and then had it cruelly snatched away! It made anything else that was happening pale into insignificance. That dark spectre of loss haunted me, and I could see no future without it by my side.
I felt like I was a long way from Chicago. A long way from my business, my family and from Davina. Whatever I had left behind, it seemed far from where I was now. Who would have thought this could have all started from my desire to explore a different side of myself. I had exchanged a mundane life of suit and office for adventure, a new existence in so many ways, and dangers that were unheard of in my old life.
‘Was this what I really wanted,’ I asked myself.
+++
We continued to press South and east. After a while I could see open water, a few villages punctuated the otherwise empty coastline. The pilot, anonymous behind mirrored sunglasses, spoke into the radio and a moment later we swung out across a clear flat sea. I could see a strip of sand ahead as the pilot slowed the engines, losing height. I made out a rough landing strip and a windsock hanging limply in the late afternoon air.
We descended to what I could now see was an island no more than 5 miles long. I could make out a jetty and a few small huts. The pilot brought us onto final approach and the engine note sank. As we touched down an open Jeep arrived at the airstrip. It drove slowly toward us as the little plane came to a stop at the end of the runway.
I stared at the vehicle transfixed. Was it really possible?
A large man sat behind the wheel sweating profusely and wiping his face with a white handkerchief. But that was not what shocked me into dumbfounded silence.
I climbed out of the plane, my legs shaky and stiff. I could find no words to say as I struggled to make sense of what I was seeing. How could this be?
Annabelle stepped from the passenger side of the Jeep wearing a pale blue bikini and a pink wrap around her waist, her skin tanned and beautiful. She walked up to me and kissed me on my lips. Her hair tumbled about her bare shoulders, golden in the sun.
“I hope you had a good trip,” she said, and then she flung her arms around me.
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Clothes Maketh The Man is a serial you can find on http://FionaDobson.com/cmtm Started in 2016 it has been published in regular in episodes . If you are enjoying the serial, show your support by joining my Patreon and sharing this page. Join my readership and continue to support my efforts by enjoying Andrea’s adventures. FD
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