Abduction

The woman watched Theresa exit the hospital elevator and continue through the lobby. She rose from the chair she sat in and followed at a discreet distance. She knew she blended in perfectly with the surroundings and no one would think twice about a young woman in medical garb, white tennis shoes, and dark hair in a ponytail. She looked like every other woman in this hospital.

Theresa was crossing over the threshold of the automatic sliding doors but the woman wasn't worried about losing her. She knew Theresa's car was parked up on the 4th level of the parking structure while her own car was conveniently parked on the first. She didn't bother to look over at the staircase she knew Theresa was climbing. Instead she walked straight to her car. Once inside, she buckled up, started the car, and waited for Theresa to make her way out of the structure.

* * * * *

Theresa was winded by the time she walked the four flights of stairs but she knew it was good for her. Crossing the hospital parking lot, she dug through her purse and found her keys, managing to make it to her car without getting run down by some little old lady with blue hair. After starting her car, she pulled out of her parking spot and proceeded to the exit.

Her appointment went well and everything was as it should've been. The anxiety-provoking tests were over with until Thursday, when she had her next appointment. Thank God she was only going to have to do this one more time and then the waiting would be over. Impatience gnawed at Theresa, but she knew she'd have to continue playing the waiting game.

Theresa pulled out of the parking structure and out onto the street. On autopilot, she navigated the short distance to her house. Fingers drumming on the steering wheel, humming along with a song on the radio, Theresa pulled neatly to a stop at a red light. She looked down the intersection to the left and never saw the large luxury sedan coming up behind her, failing to slow for the light.

* * * * *

The woman knew this was her best chance. She'd debated whether she would follow Theresa all the way to her house and finally decided it would prove too difficult to lure her from the protection of her own home. So she decided she'd have to stage an accident. Not too hard, she didn't want to seriously injure Theresa or the precious cargo that traveled with her. But hard enough that Theresa would take her seriously.

It had to be now; they were only blocks from Theresa's home. The traffic was light this time of day and she needed to be sure that she had time to get what she wanted before some do-gooder decided to call the police. Just a hard enough tap that they'd have to pull over and any witnesses would think it was a run-of-the-mill fender bender. People ignored cars pulled over to the side of the road all the time.

She watched Theresa pull up slowly to the intersection, well behind the crosswalk. She let her foot up off the accelerator slightly and counted. One-one thousand, two-one thousand--

* * * * *

Theresa only heard a short squeal of brakes before she felt the impact. Still looking to her left, she felt the wrench in her back and her neck jerk with whiplash. Her Honda lurched forward but fortunately she stopped inside the crosswalk and kept out of the way of cross traffic. Luckily, her airbag didn't deploy and with her heart hammering in her throat, she looked up into her rear view mirror to see a dark haired woman staring at her with wide, shocked eyes.

Theresa, realizing she'd just been in an accident, now looked to get out of the intersection. The light had turned green and a car behind the one who had just hit her honked. She slowly drove through the intersection and then pulled over to the curb. Watching her rear view mirror, she saw the other driver following her.

Theresa shut off her car and reached for her purse. She opened her door cautiously, managed to climb shakily from the car. The other driver was already out of her car and rushing toward Theresa.

"Oh my God, are you all right?" she asked.

"I-I think so. Are you?"

"I'm so sorry! I looked down for just a moment and when I looked up, I didn't have time to stop!" the dark-haired woman rushed. Her eyes took in Theresa's condition and then she panicked. "Oh my God!" she repeated. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I, uh, don't know." Theresa's hand went to her abdomen. "I just came from the hospital; maybe I should go back."

"Oh, you mean St. Joseph's? Please, please, let me drive you there." The woman gestured to an ID badge attached to her left lapel and Theresa noticed for the first time she was wearing medical scrubs. "I'm a nurse," she added quickly. "Please, it's the least I can do. Someone should look at you."

Theresa knew she was right. She needed to be seen again. This late in the game, she needed to be sure even the minor fender bender hadn't done any damage. She leaned forward, squinted at the other woman's badge. "I'm sorry, what was your name?"

"My name is Cynthia." She held out a hand and Theresa shook it. "I've even got a first-aid kit and some other medical supplies in the trunk of my car. Please, let me help you into the car and we can exchange information once we get you checked out."

Theresa let Cynthia lead her to the passenger side of the older car. In a daze, she turned to inspect the damage to her car. A large dent covered most of the bumper but it was still attached. She looked back at the car she was being led to. It could wait. She needed to be sure everything was okay.

* * * * *

Cynthia prattled on a mile a minute, hoping to keep Theresa distracted. She pulled back out into traffic, made a U-turn, and headed back the way they came. Theresa was quiet, docile, and Cynthia knew she was probably panicking inside.

"I'm sure everything is just fine!" she reassured Theresa cheerily. "Any pain?"

Theresa shook her head.

"You don't look like you have much longer."

"No, no, I don't. Should be any day now," Theresa supplied.

"I cannot apologize enough," Cynthia started again. "I'm just so glad I'm a nurse and that we're so close to the hospital!" Cynthia looked over at Theresa from the corner of her eye. Theresa was paying no attention to her, eyes straight ahead, one hand settled on her abdomen. Her right hand made its way between her seat and the middle console, where she had a hypodermic needle hidden and ready. With barely any movement, she expertly removed the protective cap and depressed the plunger slightly, ejecting a minute amount of clear fluid from within. She'd already premeasured the dosage with information easily gathered from Theresa's medical records.

Cynthia kept rambling on, apologizing, quite sure she just sounded nervous and upset about being at fault for a minor car accident. Theresa didn't seem to notice anything she said and this was going to be easier than she'd thought. In one fluid motion, Cynthia reached across the short distance separating her from her passenger and stuck the hypodermic needle into Theresa's thigh.

* * * * *

Theresa slowly opened her eyes and the first thing she noticed was a pounding headache. Through blurred vision, she could see a ceiling fan turning lazily above her. She was in a bed and instinctively, she tried to turn onto her side. Pain laced through her and she cried out. Struggling, she made it onto her side and tried not to cry at the pain throughout her body.

Where am I?

Her vision sharpened and she could make out a plain bedroom, hardwood floor, sheer white curtain over a small window, a bleached out wooden table next to her.

What happened to me?

And on top of that: My baby.

Theresa's hands found her abdomen still swollen and she lifted its girth experimentally. Usually with some poking and prodding she could get the little guy to kick back at her. A minute or two passed and Theresa didn't feel anything. Panic tightened like a band around her chest and she was having a hard time concentrating on fetal movement when so many other pains assailed her. After an eternity, she felt a slight rolling sensation.

She let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding and attempted to sit up. Everything on her ached. Theresa swung her legs out of bed and set her feet on the floor and everything around her abruptly began to spin. As gracefully as she could, Theresa leaned forward and threw up between her feet.

As she rested her head between her palms and tried to catch her breath, some memory came back to her. Driving home from the hospital. Fender bender. The nurse taking me back to the hospital. Then nothing. Between the fuzziness in her head and the severe cotton mouth she now had, she guessed she'd been drugged. She was alone and she wasn't in the hospital. This brought her back to her first question.

Where am I?

* * * * *

Cynthia knocked before opening the door and letting herself into the small room. Quickly she appraised the situation. Theresa sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on knees, head propped on her hands and Theresa was barely able to look up at her. She saw the vomit on the floor the same time the smell hit her. She wondered briefly if it was the sedative or pregnancy related. No mind, it wasn't Theresa's condition that concerned her.

"How's the baby?" Cynthia asked.

She crossed the room quickly and pulled a gun from her tunic pocket. Theresa froze at the sight of it and Cynthia found that to be a good sign. Cynthia gestured for Theresa to lie back down and Theresa complied. In Cynthia's other hand was a Doppler device. She set it on the bed next to Theresa to free up her hand and reached into another pocket and pulled out a bottle of ultrasound transmission gel. It took some juggling with the gun in hand, but she needed to be sure that Theresa wouldn't try anything before relaxing her guard. One handed, she pulled up Theresa's maternity blouse, wrestled the waistband of her pants down, and squirted the cold gel onto her abdomen.

"Sorry it's cold," Cynthia said.

Theresa was mute, still frozen from shock, Cynthia supposed. As long as she cooperated, that's all that mattered.

Still one-handed, she turned on the Doppler and static filled the room. Picking up the wand that transmitted powerful ultrasound waves, she pressed it to Theresa's abdomen and began searching for the fetal heartbeat. Within a moment, she found it.

"One forty," she announced.

She set the Doppler on the table beside them, wiped off Theresa's stomach with paper towel pulled from her pocket, and rearranged Theresa's clothing.

"Some ground rules." Cynthia began pacing the small room, using the gun for emphasis. "You're not going to try anything funny. You're going to remember that your life and your baby's life are in my hands. Even if you don't care about your life, I'm sure you'd want your baby to born healthy and safe."

Theresa just watched Cynthia pace, tears spilling from the corners of her eyes, but she said nothing.

"Good. I think we have an understanding. I'm going to leave the room for a moment. The door will be locked behind me. I will be back before you have an opportunity to try anything so you might as well just rest."

True to her word, Cynthia locked the bedroom door behind her and crossed the hall to another room. From there, she gathered up a medical bag and took it back across the hall with her. Letting herself back into Theresa's room, she saw that Theresa still laid there, crying silently.

"Good girl. This shouldn't take long."

With Theresa giving her complete compliance, Cynthia quickly inserted an IV and began running saline wide open. She had to make do with the headboard frame as an IV pole but it did what she needed it to do. She produced a second bag of fluid.

"In case you didn't know," Cynthia explained hooking up the second bag to the IV, "I'm going to be administering the first of the Pitocin to get your labor started."

"Why are you doing this?" Theresa asked weakly.

"You haven't figured it out yet, silly girl? I want your baby."

Theresa struggled to sit up but Cynthia waved the gun at her.

"Uh-uh-uh. None of that. Do as I say and your baby will be delivered safe and sound. I mean it, Theresa. I can cut you open right now and take what I want or you can do what I say."

* * * * *

Theresa lay still on the bed, her mind racing. She couldn't contain the trembling that took over her body so she didn't try. She knew it wouldn't take long. Based on what she'd read about medical inductions, Pitocin would start her uterus contracting. At her doctor's visit yesterday she was already seventy percent effaced and dilated almost two centimeters. Once she started contracting, she guessed she would only have four or five hours. She wondered what other drugs Cynthia had in her bag of tricks. Theresa guessed she'd have to have her baby without pain medication.

The gun. What was she going to do about the gun? This was her first baby, but she'd read everything she could get her hands on concerning delivery. If she could just incapacitate the other woman then maybe she'd have a chance to get away or at least have a chance to deliver her baby. Women had been delivering their babies on their own since the beginning of time. For now, she'd just have to bide her time.

* * * * *

Theresa figured a good couple of hours must've passed but she couldn't be sure. There was no clock for her to look at and Cynthia checked her watch often but never offered the time. During that time, Theresa had indeed begun contracting but it worried her not having the fetal monitors she'd read about. Cynthia listened to the baby's heartbeat with the Doppler frequently and would place her hand on Theresa's abdomen when she was in the middle of a contraction.

Theresa had thought about trying to act like the Pitocin wasn't working but didn't want Cynthia to turn up the dosage. And once Cynthia checked her cervix, Theresa knew she couldn't fake it. So she rode each contraction, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth in little pants, like she'd learned in her prepared childbirth class. For the first time, she thought about Graham. He was supposed to be with her, holding her hand, wiping her forehead with a washcloth, giving her gentle encouragement. Graham was supposed to cut the cord and follow the baby everywhere he went, until he was in Theresa's arms. Graham was supposed to cry with her and kiss her and carry out her every wish.

She had no idea how long she'd been unconscious but by the light coming from the small window, it appeared to be late afternoon. Graham would be on his way home and she wondered if he would sense something wrong.

Graham, please come find me.

Another contraction was swelling within her, bringing her unborn son closer to a cold, cruel world.

* * * * *

Cynthia decided it was time to check Theresa's progress. This was going to be the tricky part. In order to sufficiently check for dilation and effacement, she was going to need both hands. Theresa had been fairly quiet throughout her labor, trying to hold on to some dignity, not asking for help getting through the contractions, controlling her breathing without encouragement. Only since the last hour had Theresa finally started vocalizing through the contractions. A good time to check.

"I'm going to check your cervix," Cynthia announced after the latest contraction. "I'm going to need to use both hands but I'm sure by now you know how serious this is. The gun is going to be right within hand's reach and it won't take me long to reach it. A bullet in your brain, and I'll still have time to perform a Caesarean."

Theresa grimaced with pain but then nodded.

"Good. As soon as this contraction is over, I'll check you."

* * * * *

Theresa gritted her teeth against the pain and blew out in quick, short pants. This one was by far the worst and she wondered how far she'd come. She knew she was going to have to act before the baby came. If Cynthia was successful in delivering her baby, she'd be gone with him in a second and Theresa would probably be left for dead, if Cynthia didn't decide to put a bullet in her before leaving. She'd have to do something soon and she only had moments to think of what that would be.

Cynthia began working Theresa's pants down over her hips. Theresa helped her wriggle out of them as best she could. Her panties came next. Thankfully Cynthia provided her with a sheet for modesty.

"I know it will be uncomfortable, but I need you on your back now." Theresa rolled slowly onto her back and slid her heels toward her buttocks without being asked. Cynthia produced a thick, white folded towel and Theresa lifted her hips and let her slide the towel under her bottom.

Theresa watched Cynthia slip the gun into her pocket and then pull on a pair of latex gloves. Cynthia squirted a generous amount of KY-Jelly onto the gloved fingers of her right hand and approached the side of the bed. Theresa tried to relax but hoped that any tension Cynthia felt was attributed to nervousness and the invasion of the examination, and not because Theresa was ready to make her move.

She let Cynthia examine her since she was interested in knowing how far she'd progressed. She winced as Cynthia reached far up to her cervix while she pressed down on top of her uterus with her other hand. The pain flared for a few moments and then Cynthia was done.

"One hundred percent effaced, and you're dilated to seven," said Cynthia. "You're coming along nicely. The baby's at a zero station so it won't be long before you're feeling the urge to push."

"Oh God!" Theresa let out in a shriek. "Oh God, it hurts!"

Cynthia jumped at the outburst and looked quickly under the sheet. Theresa's water had just broken and a huge gush of straw colored fluid soaked the towel she had placed under Theresa just a few minutes before.

"Your fluid looks good, no sign of meconium--"

At the very moment Cynthia looked up from under the sheet, Theresa pulled back both legs as far as she could and let loose with a mighty kick. She screamed in anger as she felt the heels of both feet make contact with Cynthia's head and face. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she propelled herself up and off the bed.

She was already lunging forward as she saw Cynthia hitting the floor.

The gun. Where was the gun?

Theresa fell forward onto Cynthia, barely noticing the IV catheter tearing from her arm. She tried to land a knee to Cynthia's stomach but still hit her belly hard. She cried out in pain and scrambled on top of Cynthia. Cynthia was struggling weakly; Theresa had either placed her kick very well or Cynthia had hit her head on the hardwood floor going down.

Theresa roared again as her hands found Cynthia's ponytail. She lifted and slammed Cynthia's head on the wood flooring as hard as she could, once, twice, and then Cynthia was still.

Theresa shook violently, sobs jerking from her body. She tried to stand up but slipped in the amniotic fluid that was still leaking from her. Blood flowed steadily from the wound made by the tearing IV. Another contraction was cresting and she cried out again. On all fours, she waited out the contraction and then crawled away from Cynthia's body on hands and knees.

Close to the door, she found the gun. She must've sent it flying when she kicked Cynthia. She checked the safety and then slid it across the floor, into the darkness under the bed.

Theresa managed to reach the doorknob and used it to pull herself to a standing position. She wobbled like a newborn foal but didn't fall. Indecision flooded her for the first time. She sensed that she didn't have much time before her baby entered this world--should she crawl back to the bed to deliver him or take her chances trying to leave the house?

Theresa had no idea where her purse was, where her cell phone was. She hadn't seen Cynthia with a phone but figured there had to be one in this house. But where? How long would it take her to find one in this state? And would Cynthia wake up before she could get help?

Another contraction began to swell and Theresa felt an intense pressure building along with the urge to push.

Oh no, baby, not yet.

Theresa needed a phone. Once the contraction passed, she left the bedroom. A room lay across the hall, and at the end of the hall, stairs. She didn't think she could navigate the staircase without risking a fall so she took her chances with the other room.

Hobbling, she used the wall for support and managed the short distance to the other room. Once inside, she closed the door and locked it. If Cynthia woke up, she hoped she didn't have a key to this room as well. She flipped the light switch and a soothing light filled the room. Scanning the room quickly, she spied a phone sitting on a side table.

She hurried across the room as best she could and sat down on the bed alongside the table. Panting hard, Theresa weathered another contraction. Sweat poured from her body and she grew even shakier. From her reading, she knew it was her body's reaction to the stress the labor was putting on her body. It was going to be soon.

Two minutes later it had passed and Theresa was almost too weak to lift the cordless phone from its base. She punched those three buttons and put the phone to her ear, listening for the ring.

"911, emergency," a woman intoned.

"Hello, I need help," said Theresa breathlessly.

"What is your emergency, ma'am?"

"I-I've been kidnapped! I'm in labor and I don't know where I am!" Theresa sobbed as she felt another contraction building. "Oh God, make it stop!"

"Ma'am, please stay calm. Are you in danger?"

"I-I think I hurt another woman. I locked myself in a room. I have no idea where I am. I'm by myself and my baby is coming!"

"Okay, please hang on with me." Theresa heard the woman typing rapidly. "We've got a trace on your call and I'm sending police and an ambulance. Please stay on the line with me."

"Please hurry," she whispered.

Theresa eased herself back onto the bed and awkwardly tried to prop herself into a semi-upright position with some pillows. The phone still to her ear, she panted furiously. "I need to push," she wailed.

"Ma'am, what's your name?"

"Theresa."

"Theresa, you need to stay calm. Keep breathing. Reach down and tell me if you can feel the baby's head crowning."

Theresa strained to lean forward enough to reach between her legs. She felt something warm and hard slightly protruding. "I can feel his head!" she cried.

"Okay, when you feel the next contraction coming, take a deep breath and push as hard but as steadily as you can. Theresa, I need you to be strong. Help is on the way, but you have to let me help you."

Theresa cried into the phone. "I don't think I can do this."

"Please, Theresa, I have been trained to coach you through this. Now I can't see what you're doing, but I can try my best to walk you through it."

"Oh God, another one!"

Theresa took a deep breath and held it and began pushing with all her might. The pain was excruciating and a primal scream tore from her.

"Again, Theresa! Take another breath and push!"

Theresa hitched in another deep breath and bore down once more. The 911 operator began counting for her. "One, two, three..."

She made it to ten before collapsing back onto the pillows. "Where is the ambulance?"

"Soon, soon. You're almost there. Reach down and tell me how much more of the baby you can feel."

Theresa felt for her baby's head and found that the top of his head had fully crowned.

"One more contraction should do it, Theresa. Be ready for it. You're going to push for as long as you can but I need you to try to feel for his head. Once his head is all the way through, you're going to want to stop for a moment."

Theresa sobbed with fear. This was it. Everything she had been working toward since she found out eight months ago that she was pregnant. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to be alone. But she had no choice. She was going to have her baby.

"Here it comes." The operator began counting again. In the distance, Theresa could faintly make out the sounds of sirens.

Theresa pushed with everything she had. With one hand between her legs, she felt her baby's head slip out of her body and she stopped pushing. "His head is out!" she announced.

"Okay, okay, breathe! Pant, pant, don't push. Wait for this contraction to end!"

From her vantage point, Theresa couldn't see anything except dark hair. She knew this was where a doctor would be suctioning out his nose and mouth and throat before delivering the rest of the baby. She quickly prayed her baby would be okay.

"Okay, Theresa, the police, the ambulance is there, they've arrived." Theresa felt the house shudder and guessed they'd just broken the front door in. "They should be to you in just a minute."

Another contraction was building fast. "This is it," said Theresa through clenched teeth. With one last deep breath and push, she felt her baby's shoulders tear through and then his body slipped through her hands and onto the bedspread beneath her.

"He's out," she sobbed and she dropped the phone.

Reaching between her legs, she managed to grasp his slippery body and lift him onto her abdomen. She took the hem of her blouse and used it to wipe at his eyes, nose and mouth. He was a slight purple color and he hadn't cried yet.

Oh no, baby, please, please.

She wasn't even aware of the police shouting through the door to her or when they broke through that door as well. The paramedics rushed to Theresa who held her baby in her arms, rocking him back and forth.

* * * * *

Theresa opened her eyes to see a table covered in flowers and balloons. Beside the table, Graham sat in a hospital chair, a blue bundle in his arms.

"Hey you," he said softly. Tears shone in his eyes.

"Hey back."

Graham rose carefully from his chair and leaned into Theresa. "There's someone here to see you."

Theresa took the offered bundle and began to cry. Her precious baby boy. She took in the shock of dark, curly hair, the blue eyes bright and aware, the mouth instinctively sucking. He was perfect.

"Oh Graham," she breathed. "My baby, Jonathan."

Graham held onto them as tightly as he could, his tears mixing freely with hers.