
I trudged my way towards the ski racks, lugging my skis over one shoulder and dragging my poles behind me. I glanced at the clock by the door to the lodge: it was only noon, but three hours of black diamond skiing had really gotten the best of me today. I probably should have quit earlier, I thought, wincing as I put weight on my sore thigh. Time for a break.
I put my skis down, reached into my pocket, and swore. Shit, I forgot the lock again. I stood on tip-toes to see over the heads of other tired skiers, to where the free ski check was, but I cringed at the size of the line in front of it. I looked at my skis on the rack. They were nice skis, a pair of blue and green K2 Superglides, but nothing special.
They'd probably be okay to leave here, I decided, setting my poles down beside them, and then turning to drag myself inside the lodge.
I found an empty seat by the window where I could keep an eye on my skis and sat down to pull off my helmet. My dark braid came tumbling over my shoulder, a little damp with sweat. It was uncharacteristically warm today. I peeled off my coat too, leaving just my t-shirt and my thermal under-armor.
Still, it had been a good morning of skiing. It was too bad none of my friends had been able to make it. I sighed, staring out the window and resting my head in my hands, tuning out the chatter of the lodge behind me.
Some kid wandered over to the rack where I'd put my skis, and blocked my view of them. I growled in annoyance. He was pretty tall, but I would have guessed him to be seventeen, the same age as me, and I figured by the style of his jacket and baggy snow pants that he was the I'm-a-snowboarder-and-that-makes-me-really-cool type. I rolled my eyes. He didn't have skis or a snowboard with him though, and I could see some blonde curls peeking out from beneath his hat.
He moved away from the rack, and I looked again for my skis, but they weren't there. I sat up, and barely caught a glimpse of the guy before he walked out of my sight, with my Superglides.
I jumped up. "Hey!" I shouted, but no one heard me over the other commotion in the lodge. Leaving my stuff, I made for the door, shoving past some pre-pubescent kids. I sprinted after him, stumbling a little in my clunky ski boots, and turned the corner to see him heading for the parking lot. I clenched my fists. "Hey you!" I shouted. There was no one else, and he had to know I was talking to him, but he didn't respond and kept going.
I followed him. Maybe he'd just made a mistake. He could've thought my skis were his or something. I ran after him. "Hey, green jacket!" I shouted. "Those are mine!"
Again, no response, but he started walking faster. I looked around for an employee, but there was no one, and I kept after him, catching up. Fine. Let's see how he'd like a ski boot in his crotch.
He made it to a dark red van and started loading my skis into his ski rack. There were two other pairs up there already. I approached the car. "Look, asshole," I said. "I know you can hear me. Those are my skis." I reached out to grab his arm.
He whirled around and gave me a shove, sending me stumbling backwards, and two other pairs of hands grabbed my arms. I started to scream, but a gloved hand quickly clamped down over my mouth and muffled me. I twisted and struggled, heart pounding, shrieking insults into my attacker's hand.
For the first time I could see the blonde boy’s face, and he blinked dark eyes at me in surprise, a bead of sweat starting down his forehead. “Shit,” he said. I was still trying to scream, and there were voices coming around the corner. The boy opened the car door. “Just shove her in. Go!”
I resisted, dragging my boots, but they forced me into the van, slamming the door behind me. I screamed and scrabbled at the handle, but it wouldn’t move. “Let me out!” I shouted, pounding on the window. “Somebody help me!”
The door on the other side opened, and I turned around to see two other boys the same age as the first quickly get in and grab me, covering my mouth again. The blonde one opened the driver’s door and climbed in, twisting around. “Holy crap,” he breathed. “What do we do?”
"Shut her up, first of all," another one said, this one with shorter, slightly darker hair. He reached into his ski bag and pulled out a blue bandana. I started struggling harder, shrieking and swinging my fists at the black-haired guy who was holding me down. I caught him in the throat, and he let go, cursing. I lunged for the door again, but they grabbed me, and then I was on the floor of the van, with one of the boys sitting on top of me.
Tears started to pour down my face. "Let me go!" I was shouting. "Let me--" The boy reached down and forced the bandana into my mouth. I let out an angry mmmmph of protest and tried to spit it out, but he produced a ski muff and pulled it down over my head, situating it around my mouth and then giving it a yank at the back. I could feel it pulling tighter over my mouth, and then he twisted the loose part around and stretched another loop over my head.
"Mmmmph!" I wailed, struggling to free myself. I heard the blonde boy's voice again. "Shit, we can't do this," he said. "You guys didn't say anything about kidnapping. We were just here to make some money."
"Yeah, but she saw your face," the other guy pointed out, who was still seated. The black-haired one was the one on top of me, still rooting through the ski bag.
"Well what the hell are we going to do with her? We can't just keep her!"
"No one said anything about that," the black-haired one pointed out darkly. I shivered at the tone in his voice and whimpered.
"Keegan, you idiot, we are not going to kill her!"
I felt him twist around to look at the blonde boy. "You're the idiot!" he shouted back. "Now she knows my name!"
I freed one of my arms, but Keegan quickly grabbed it again. "Help me hold her still," he said to the boy with the brown hair. "And give me your scarf."
Brown-hair fished a black scarf from his own ski bag and handed it to Keegan. He took both of my wrists while brown-hair held me arms still, and I continued to protest into my gag and kick both of my legs against the floor.
Keegan quickly wrapped a loop around one of my wrists and knotted it off, then took my other wrist and started wrapping it around both. I felt him go in between a few times, yanking it tight every couple of loops. I squirmed, still making noise into my gag. Brown-hair tilted his head down to look at my face. “She’s kind of cute,” he said.
I tried to insult him, but it just came out as a series of muffled mmphs. "Dude, shut up," I heard the blonde boy say. "This is serious."
“Zack, start driving,” Keegan said. He gave the scarf another yank, then wrapped the remaining fabric vertically between my wrists to cinch it. I winced, and he knotted it tightly before they both let go.
I twisted and fought, but he’d been thorough, and my hands stayed tied tightly together. I heard the blonde one, I guess it was Zack, start the car, and panicking, started to scream again. My eyes burned and fogged up, and suddenly the gag was making it hard to breathe. I writhed and twisted wildly on the floor. “Shit,” Keegan said. “She’s freaking out.” He grabbed hold of my legs, which were kicking wildly. The car was moving. I was sobbing more than screaming now, spots dancing in front of my eyes.
Keegan had an arm tightly wrapped around my legs, trying to undo my ski boots as I struggled with him. Brown-hair held my body against the floor again. “Hey,” he said, voice shaking. “You can calm down, okay? We’re not going to hurt you? Um…” He glanced back at Keegan. “We’re not going to hurt her, right?”
Keegan, who had just pulled off my right boot and was working on the other one, must have shaken his head. "Right," brown-hair said. "We're not going to hurt you, or...do anything weird."
Although that was a relief, it didn't make this situation any better. Still, I realized that passing out wasn't going to solve anything, so I tried to steady my breathing, tears still streaming down my face. Keegan pulled off my other ski boot, and I desperately tried to kick him, but he dodged me. Another scarf was tied around first one of my ankles, then both, the same way he'd tied my hands. I groaned in defeat, feeling him yank the scarf tight before he cinched and knotted it.
The car sped up a little, and I tried to lift my head to look out the window. Brown-hair quickly pushed my head down again. "Hey, uh," he said. "Are we taking her back to the house?"
"Where else are we going to take her?" Keegan asked. I could hear him rooting in the ski bag some more, and I tested his knots again. They held tight.
"This is your fault, Sam," Zack muttered.
"How is it my fault?"
"It was your idea," Keegan said. He was wrapping something that felt like another ski muff around my knees.
Sam let go of me now that I'd stopped struggling, and I let out my breath, whimpering again. Keegan moved closer to my front. "Lift her head," he told Sam. Sam carefully did, and Keegan not-so-carefullly wrapped a ski mask over my eyes, tightly velcroing it at the back. I shook my head, mmmphing into the gag again.
Sam released my head, and I heard them both sit in the seats, leaving me on the floor. I struggled a little. The scarf around my wrists felt tight, and I couldn't move either one up or down or twist. My legs had been rendered immobile as well, with tight bindings around my ankles and my knees, though Keegan thankfully hadn't gone as high as my thighs. The car bumped and shook beneath me, but I couldn't see under the improvised blindfold.
"What if she was with someone?" Zack asked. "Someone might come looking for her. Or they might have been following her and seen us."
"I didn't see anyone else," Sam said.
"Relax, Zack," Keegan's voice said.
"Relax? Did you seriously just say that? Relax?"
"Just drive," Keegan said calmly.
"We don't even know her name," Sam mumbled.
"Well," Keegan replied. "We can't ask her now."
The car turned suddenly, and began to slow down. I tensed, and after a few more turns, it came to a stop.
Hope you all enjoy it so far!