Hostage

THE HOSTAGE

          The trees provided no shelter from the driving rain that lashed at him with malevolence. He let out a shudder. His jeans and sweater seemed to be soaking up most of the damned rain. At least it'll hide my scent if they used dogs, he thought as he continued his run to freedom. Malcolm swore to himself. If only he'd listened to his gut about Michael; No doubt he was signing a plea agreement even now. Malcolm didn't care that much, they had to catch him first and he had no intention of making it easy for them; had no intention of ever going back to jail.

         The road was isolated, nothing moved for as far as he could see. He shook his head; surely they would be have blocked this road off. It didn't make any sense.
The sudden appearance of headlights stunned him momentarily, both in their brilliance and arrival. Looks like the cops did think of it after all he thought with a curse ducking down behind some scant bushes that did little to really conceal him. He almost laughed when he saw it was a young woman driving; He knew the cops were too stupid to block this road. Unless she's a cop, an annoying part of his brain reminded him, but he decided to risk it, even if she is. What's she going to do? He had his gun ready he doubted that she drove with one in her hand. No, he had the advantage and he knew it.

          Malcolm stood up and went to the middle of the road, gun drawn. Brakes screeched as she slammed on them to stop herself running him over. "Open the door ." he demanded.

"Please, don't hurt me." She said, obeying his command.

"Just do as I tell you and you'll get out of this alive." He said climbing into the passenger seat. "Drive."

"Where to?" Sherri asked.

"Anywhere but here for now." He responded, in truth he had no idea. Damn that young idiot, Michael; It had been a good plan, easy money, but no he had to blab to his girlfriend who in turn had blabbed to the cops. So here he was, on the run without even the money to show for it and probably a kidnap charge added now. He had to think. "Take a right at the top of this road."

"There's nothing there, just an old guest house." She said.

"I didn't ask for a geography lesson. Just drive. Let me worry about the particulars."

The old guest house was just what he needed; he was a little surprised she knew about if truth be told it'd been closed since he could remember. He'd found it as a kid, it had been a good hiding place then and it would make one now.

**** **** *****

         It was just as he remembered it; half of it was in ruins but enough still stood to allow shelter. "Out of the car and give me the keys." He ordered her.

"Just let me go, I won't say anything I swear."

"I said out. You're my insurance." He knew that he'd have to kill her at some point but he wasn't a killer by nature. Not that he'd never killed; he'd done plenty of that in his time but this was different. There would be no claim of self defence with which to ease his conscience. He found himself almost admiring her; despite what was happening to her, the knowledge that he would probably kill her anyway, she carried herself with dignity. She hadn't even cried.

"I can't stay here. I have a condition." she started to say what but he cut her off.

"Don't care, get inside or I'll shoot you now." He was angry with himself, he'd just tipped his hand.

She bent her head as if in resignation, if she'd picked up on his slip she gave him no indication of it.

*** *** ***

         The house was dusty but it was dry. The old fireplace was still stocked with wood, so he lit a fire to dry himself off.

"So now what? You planning on moving in here?" The woman demanded.

"You seem to be forgetting who's got the gun, lady." He snapped, a little surprised at her sudden hostility. He put it down to fear.

"Go ahead, shoot me." She dared him, there was a new playfulness in her tone which ruled out his fear theory. That alarmed him and for the first time he looked at her properly. She was fair, almost white and her eyes seemed to glow.

"Don't think I won't." He warned her.

"This is your last chance to let me go. I recommend you to take it." She replied softly.

"You're a mad one alright." he muttered as he pulled the trigger.

"Not mad, hungry maybe, but not mad. Why do you think I stopped?" Sherri whispered in his ear. Somehow she had gotten behind him.

She sank her fangs into his neck, savouring the taste of his blood, re-living every moment of his pathetic life as if it had been her own. She listened to the hypnotic rhythm of his heart as it pumped the blood to her eager mouth, it began to slow at the last moment she pulled away. "You should have let me go Malcolm. I had another in mind for tonight." Sherri said, collecting her car keys from his lifeless corpse. "Still, I'm glad I decided to let you stop me, you made a nice appetizer."