I tried to look at the signs to show where we were, but it was useless. Even if I knew where I was it wouldn’t do me any good. I couldn’t change anything. There was no way I could get back home. What could I do? Call the police on the phone that is still in my purse back at the band hall? Yeah, I could so totally see that happening. It was useless, my life had changed. I was with Samuel in the middle of nowhere, and wouldn’t be going back home. For some reason though, this didn’t bother me.
Samuel was right, I did have dreams. I wanted to be a music teacher and director at Julliard. I wanted to play my saxophone all the way through high school, and get a scholarship. That was my dream. To leave my home in Alabama, go to New York, and spread my love of music. I wanted to be someone. I wanted to get away from the family of mine, full of mistakes, and just go. Now I’m away, but without a clue where I’m headed, without my sax, and with a family member.
I dozed off again, and when I woke up I could taste the blood that had dried to my lip. The truck was stopped under a bridge, and it was pitch black. The driver’s door opened and shut. Minutes later, Samuel was back with drinks, a water, and a rag. He poured the water onto the rag, and began to wipe the blood off my cheeks, forehead, and lip. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and when the blood was gone, he held a drink to my lips. I tilted my head expecting a cool refreshing drink to help my dry throat. Instead I felt my throat begin to burn with the sting of alcohol. I was so thirsty though, I adjusted to the taste, and kept drinking. When he finally pulled the bottle away, it was empty and my head was spinning. He reached over, and untied my hands from behind me. With one hand Sam kept a tight grip on my wrists and with the other he retrieved the rope. He tied them back in the rope, but in front of me this time. He pushed my body back against the seat carefully, and then retrieved the gun that had taken Jace’s life from under my seat. I heard the clicks of him loading it, then he placed in my hands.
“If you hear a noise like someone coming, put your finger here,” Sam moved my pointer finger on the trigger. “Try to wake me up, but if I don’t get up in time, and they get in the truck, you don’t even have to point the gun at them, just away from me and you and shoot something. It’ll scare them, and wake me up. I’ll take over from there understand?” I knew he wouldn’t see me if I nodded in the darkness, so I said, “I understand.”
“Good. Now get some more sleep.” I watched as he finished his drink, moved his seat like he did with mine, and reach under his seat, grabbing another gun, and placed it on his stomach. Before he got comfortable I told whispered to him, “Goodnight Samuel. Sweet Dreams.” He paused but only for a second. Sam laid his head back on the seat, and turned toward his window. Through the silence and blackness of dark time, I heard him barely whisper, “Sweet Dreams Adalynn.”