Actions Have Consequences

By Wendy Linscott

Two women are abducted, and try to find a way out.  For others, life takes unexpected turns as people get caught up in their actions, and the consequences they can't get away from.  This gripping story will run through many emotions as the reader tries to figure out who all the players are, and what caused them to take their destructive path.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wendy Linscott
• Release date: Dec 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201270155

Wendy Linscott

Wendy Linscott (1959- ) was born in Waterloo, Iowa to a British mother and Texan father. She moved to Wisconsin, then to Florida where she lived until her teens. After that she landed in Kentucky where she settled. After trying her hand at many vocations, she became a Registered Nurse with a passion for Emergency Medicine. After years in the clinical setting, she moved on to Case Management and other Managed Care types of nursing. She wrote her first book in 30 days for NANOWRIMO (National Novel Writing Month) in 2016. It was exciting to finish and be able to publish! That's an exercise she HIGHLY recommends to anyone willing to try. Wendy spends her time with her daughter and grandson, all three working toward black belts in Taekwondo. She also has a passion for rescue animals, currently acting as servant to four cats.                

Book preview

ANDREA

Just on the edge of waking, she pulled tighter into a ball.  She was so cold.  As she pulled her knees up tight to her chest, she realized that she was really uncomfortable.  The bed was so hard, and the blanket was scratchy.  She opened her eyes to tiny slits.  So dark.  Why was it so dark?  She kept her bedroom curtains open, so there was always some light, even on the darkest nights.  But not tonight.  It was pitch black.  Can’t see your hand in front of your face black.  Opening her eyes wide and fully awake now, she bolted upright with adrenaline flooding through her.

She was on the floor.  A concrete floor.  This was not her bedroom at all, or even her apartment.  Where was she?  What had happened?  She stood up, and with arms out in front of her, gingerly took steps until she found a wall.  It also felt like concrete.  She ran her hands up and down, all the way around the room, without finding a light switch or doorknob.  In fact, she found nothing at all.  She had not come in contact with any furniture.  The blanket that had been over her was on the floor, but that was the only thing she could find.  Fear coursed through her body.  What was going on?

She could hear nothing, other than the roar of her own blood in her ears.  Otherwise, the silence was deafening.  She screamed help! Someone help me!

Hello, Andrea. Did you sleep well? a loud, deep voice with a southern twang, questioned.

Help me!  Get me out of here! she screamed, deeply afraid.

Um, no.  We can’t do that, his voice was now filled with mock sadness and concern.

Who are you?  Where am I?  What is going on? Andrea was in full panic mode, tears streaming down her face, breathing hard.

Oh, who I am don’t matter one bit.  Where are you?  Well, you are in a safe place where you can scream up a storm till the cows come home, but no matter how long or loud you scream, nobody will ever hear you.  And, as you’ve already found, there is no way out, unless I choose to let you out.

Sobbing and terrified, she asked again, what do you want?

I want you, Andrea, he responded calmly, as if this were completely normal.  I want you, and now I’ve got you. I chose you, he explained.

Chose me?  Chose me for what? Please, I just want to go home.  Please let me go home!  She cried as she banged on what must be a metal door.  Her heart rate had ratcheted up even higher.

You are here to stay, Andrea.  This is your home for now.  I’ll bring you something to eat in just a few minutes.

Frantically, Andrea went around the room, feeling over the walls again, looking – well, feeling for anything.  She reached above her but found only air, no ceiling. Then she got on her hands and knees and felt every inch of the floor.  But there was nothing in the room other than her and the blanket.  Two walls seemed like what a basement wall would be like – rough concrete.  A third wall seemed like concrete block.  And the fourth wall, where she had been banging, was partly concrete block and partly steel.  She could feel seams that were welded.  That had to be a door, right?  She could feel no knob or hinges or anything of the sort.  Sitting down in a corner with her back to the wall and knees pulled up to her chin, she wrapped the blanket around her and tried to think.  What was the last thing she remembered? 

Searching back through her fear and foggy brain, she remembered being at Target, picking up toilet paper, paper towels, fabric softener, and dishwashing liquid.  She remembered walking out, heading back to her car with two bags in her hands.  She was trying to pull her keys out of her purse, but they snagged on something, as usual.  She wrestled them out so she could unlock the door of her olive-green Jeep Cherokee, and then . . . nothing.  She kept trying to remember, but that was it.  Nothing else came back to her.  She tried to remember what had been happening around her – what cars, what people, anything at all.  But nothing came to mind.  She was apparently so wrapped up in finding her keys that she had been oblivious to what was going on around her.

A few minutes later, she heard a click and a small slot appeared in one wall.  Though still completely dark in her room, there was light outside of it, so she could see that there was a tray that now was pushed into the room, with a paper plate and paper cup on it.  There was a sandwich, cut in half; two carrot sticks and two celery sticks.  She didn’t move from her spot. 

She heard the voice again, this time just outside her room.  Eat up, Andrea.  You have ten minutes, and then I will remove the tray.

Andrea kept looking at the small slot in the wall.  She wouldn’t be able to get more than her forearm through it, she could tell.  It was made of steel, so she wouldn’t be able to break it.  She screamed again, and heard a chuckle, then I told you, Andrea. You can scream as loud and long as you want.  Nobody will hear you but me.  It will get awful annoying, so please stop.

Andrea was bawling now.  The cold was forgotten due to the adrenaline running through her. What do you want from me?  Why are you doing this?

Another chuckle.  I told you, I want you. I have big plans!  Plans to have some fun with you. But for now, you should eat.  You only have a few minutes before I remove the tray. Come on now girl, eat up!

Andrea couldn’t see him through the tray slot.  She assumed he was standing to one side, since she could see nothing other than another wall across from where the slot opened.  It appeared to be concrete block, just like the walls where she was.

After a few minutes, she saw tan gloved hands extending from a blue denim shirt come into view and remove the tray.  Wordlessly, he then closed the slot.  Again, she was left in pitch black and deafening silence.  She screamed and cried and asked questions.  No response.  She went to the wall where the slot was, feeling for where it had been.  She found the very slight outline of the perfectly fitted area.  There was no way she could have wedged even a piece of paper through it.  She paced, frantically trying to figure a way out of this. Finally, she fell into an exhausted, post-adrenaline rush, restless sleep.

She woke, she paced, she screamed for help.  Nothing.  No response, no sound, no light.  She had no idea how much time passed.  By now, she really needed to pee, and she was definitely hungry.  She was so cold. 

Later, she again heard a click and the slot opened.  The tray was pushed in, with what appeared to be the same sandwich, two carrot sticks and two celery sticks, along with a cup.  Andrea, you really do have to eat.  I’m not gonna poison you.  I want you, remember?  I don’t want anything to happen to you; I want you healthy.

Why do you want me?  What did you choose me for? You know people will be looking for me, right?  You won’t get away with this.

He sighed before saying, nobody will be looking for you for days.  You live alone, and only talk to your mother on the weekends.  Not even every weekend. You are on a staycation or something from work, so there is nobody looking for you, there was laughter in his voice, taunting her with the truth.

How did he know these things?  He was right, but how did he know?  This had to be somebody she knew, right?  Look, I need to use the restroom.  Can you please let me use the restroom? she asked, thinking if he let her out, she’d at least get a good look at him, and possibly be able to run.

Of course.  After you eat.

She was hungry, but afraid.  Had he drugged the food so he could make her unconscious or something?  I’m not hungry, I just need to pee.

Of course you are hungry.  After you eat, I will let you use the bathroom.

Warily, she stepped forward and picked up half of the sandwich.  She took a tiny bite.  Realizing she was famished, she quickly wolfed down the sandwich and vegetable sticks.  The cup was filled with lukewarm water, and she drank it all.  She would have drunk much more, had there been more.  She had no idea how long it had been since she ate, or when she would eat again.  Now can I please use the restroom?

The tray was removed, and the slot was closed.  Then, down at ground level, a square hole opened, and a five-gallon paint bucket was shoved through.  A small roll of toilet paper was pushed through, and it rolled several feet, unwinding as it went.  Here you go.  If you spill it, you will have to clean it up with your blanket.  Fair warning.  The hole closed up.

Andrea began to cry again.  She really did have to go to the bathroom though, so she positioned herself over the bucket carefully.  Once finished, she pushed it up against a corner, so that she wouldn’t accidentally spill it, and so it would be easy to find again.

Please tell me what you want.  You want me, for what?  To keep in this cold, dark room?  Why?  What did I do to you?  Who are you?

"Oh, you didn’t do anything to me, Andrea.  But I have to make sure you won’t try to get away from me.  You won’t get far if you try, but I prefer not to chase you.  So, when I can trust you, then we’ll talk about what’s next.  In the meantime, go ahead and make yourself comfortable," that calm voice said.

Comfortable?!  It’s freezing.  And dark.  And there is no bed or chair or anything.  You can hear me, but I can’t hear anything or see anything.  I just want to go home, she broke down again.

There was silence, but after a few minutes, the small door at the floor level clacked open, and two blankets were shoved through before the door shut again.  These blankets were softer and much warmer.  Andrea wrapped herself in those two, then used the third, scratchier blanket as a pillow, and laid down again.  She hugged herself and rocked.  Her thoughts raced, as did her heartbeat. 

Later, she wasn’t sure if she had slept, or if she had been in a sort of trance.  She got up and found the bucket, and again relieved herself, before returning to huddle under the blankets.  She listened for any sound but could hear nothing.  She had no idea if she was in a house or a warehouse, or even the basement of some building.   She tried to think; she tried to sleep.  She had little success with either. Finally, the slot opened, and another tray was pushed through.  Again, a turkey sandwich cut in two; two carrots sticks and two celery sticks; one small cup of water. 

She ate, picking listlessly at the food.  She was hungry but had such a lump of fear in her throat that it was difficult to eat.  When she had finished, she folded her arms on her knees and rested her head there.  She cried and tried to think of a way out of this situation but no ideas came to her.

JACQUELINE

The cameras were mostly uneventful – once he was gone for the day, and his activity was no longer picked up on any of them, there was little to be seen.  Except one camera.  That one camera often held his interest.  He focused on that now.  He also had audio set up, so that he could hear, and be heard.  More than once, he had found people on the edge of his property and had scared them off when they suddenly heard a voice from nowhere asking what they were doing there, and warning them not to come across the fence line.  He often wondered if they thought it was the voice of God. 

After watching that one camera for a while, he decided some food was in order.  Heading into the kitchen, he made a large bowl of instant oatmeal.  He added no sweeteners or flavoring but did splash in a bit of cream.  Along with a spoon, napkin, and plastic cup of water, he headed downstairs.

Unlocking the door, he opened the door to find her still sitting with her back to the corner, head resting on her knees.  He stood watching her for a few seconds before saying, stand up.  I have food for you.

Slowly, she raised her head to look at him, but didn’t move.  They stared at each other for several moments, before he walked over and grabbed her hair, yanking hard and bringing her to her feet.  When I enter this room, you stand.  When I speak to you, you reply.  Do you understand me?

Yes, she whispered, holding his wrists where he had her hair bunched painfully.

Good.  Do not forget.  You will not disrespect me.  He let go of her hair and moved back to the door.  Leaning down, he picked up the tray with the oatmeal and a cup of water.  He offered her the tray, and she warily took it from him, looking at the contents.  The contents were the same as they had been previously and certainly weren’t appetizing, but she knew she had to eat.  She took a small bite and grimaced at the lack of flavor or sweetness.  But she was hungry, so she kept eating.  She figured he wasn’t going to poison her – what would have been the point of bringing her here and immediately then killing her?

Once she had finished the oatmeal, she drank the water greedily.  She wished for more but didn’t dare ask.  She had cried and screamed and kicked that first day or two.  He had reacted with brutality each time.  Since then, she had decided she didn’t want to say anything at all that wasn’t require, in order to keep from being beaten, or worse.  He obviously wasn’t going to tell her why he had kidnapped her, or what his plans were for her.  He certainly wasn’t going to tell her about himself.  So, until she could figure out some way to get away from him, she would try to say nothing. 

Do you need to use the bathroom?  It may be some time before I return, he said as he took the tray from her.

Yes.  Yes, please.

Very good.  You are learning. You may shower while you’re there.  Remember to clean up. He unlocked the padlock, freeing her, and watched as she walked across the hall to the bathroom.  Once she shut the door, he quickly moved the tray down the hall and out of the