KIDNAPPED!!!!!!

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic
The Perils Begin

Submitted: September 14, 2012

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Submitted: September 14, 2012

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THE PERILS OF GERTRUDE

BOOK1: GERTRUDE GOES TO WAR

CHAPTER ONE: GERTRUDES EVEN BADDER THAN USUAL DAY

PART 1: KIDNAPPED!

 

Gertrude was having a very, very bad day. It was easily the worst since she had found her mother’s dead body lying in a tub full of blood in the bathroom. Mom’s hand resting on the tiled floor still holding daddies razor. The image haunted her even now after nearly three years. Since then every day had been a bad day but this day was easily the baddest.

 

At first her father had been wonderful and Gertrude knew that she would not have gotten through the tragedy without him. The whole family had pulled round, she had stayed at Auntie Mildred’s and each day her father would come round after closing the families garden centre business and they would talk into the night. They had decided that they would sell the house, but the housing market had collapsed and they were still there. A few months after she moved back in her father told her that they were going to have to carry on living in the old house till such time as the market changed. It was shortly after that he had started to use a bottle of bourbon to get to sleep at night and shortly after that he was using a bottle to get awake again in morning.

 

Aunt Mildred had been great, looking after the garden centre during the day till Gertrude could take over after school. Then in the evenings she would come round and make sure that they were fed and the house was in reasonable order, help Gertrude with her homework and generally keep things going. Gertrude even fantasized about Mildred and her father getting together one day but she knew that Aunt Mildred was very happy with “Aunt” Sophie and that Daddy wasn't going to change that.

 

The worst thing about the '98 Chevy Monte Carlo trunk was the smell, that and the darkness. Her kidnapper had secured her wrists behind her back with the zip ties she had sold him, also he had gagged her with the duct tape she had sold him, even letting him off the odd nine cents over the dollar. He had been turning up at the Garden Centre every couple of days for the past few weeks buying little odds and ends which she now realised he had been planning to use on her. She was particularly worried about the shovel, an item that indicated this situation was not going to have even a slightly happy ending.

 

Today he had turned up with his arm bandaged and in a sling so naturally she had gone out to the car park with him to help load the grow-bags he'd bought into his car....dumb, dumb, DUMB! As he had thrown her into the trunk and secured her he had been completely silent but his hands had said everything she needed to know about his intentions towards her. Now her clothes were torn in places no fourteen year old girl wanted her clothes torn and she had been touched in places no sixteen year old girl wanted to be touched......by a man several times her age. But Gertrude was tough and resilient and resourceful and she was going to do everything in her power to get through this. She was going to fight, tooth and claw and most of all brain but first of all she had to get her hands in front of her and that was going to hurt.

 

The pain from the dislocated shoulder was beyond any words she had to describe to herself and she was grateful for the duct tape that covered her mouth, without it she would certainly have been screaming. As it was she couldn't spit the blood from her mouth and the taste of it was making her want to puke, that and the pain. She definitely didn't want to puke while still gagged. So slowly, painfully she brought her hands up to head then unwound the tape. The worst part was pulling it from her hair. That did make her puke and the environment in the car trunk became even more vile.

 

She had gripped the shaft of the shovel and braced it against the bulkhead then she had placed her feet against the rear wall of the trunk and pushed and pushed even pushing after the horrid liquid popping noise had come from her shoulder. That was when she had bitten her tongue, but she kept on pushing. Then her hands where past her backside, then past her feet and then her hands where in front of her.

Now for phase two.

 

Her hands where in front of her, still bound together, but now she could use them, she was no longer completely helpless. But, moving her good arm meant moving her dislocated arm so the process of removing her key chain from her pocket had been excruciating. On the key chain where the two items that were going to hopefully save her life, the first was a small push button key-light that had been a tree present from last Christmas at Aunt Mildred’s the second was a small utility pocket knife from the Garden Centre for which over the years she had found a thousand uses.

 

The interior trunk light was set directly under the locking mechanism so that opening the lid would activate the switch and the light would come on. It was covered with a translucent plastic moulding that was secured at each end by two cross head screws. She opened the screwdriver blade on her utility knife and set to work. The first screw had started to rust to the metal of the bodywork and the tool on the utility knife was sub optimal but eventually the screw came free. The second screw came away smoothly and the cover fell away.

 

Gertrude examined the trunk interior light housing closely and determined the bulb holder was a simple push fit. It was the work of a second to pull it free, that and a surge of pain from her shoulder that made her gasp. Two wires led from the bulb holder: one leading upwards towards the pressure switch and one leading downwards towards who knew where. A third wire could be seen through the bulb holder hole leading directly to the switch. Guessing this was the live wire Gertrude opened the can opener blade on her utility knife and started fishing. There was a considerable amount of slack in the wire and Gertrude was able to pull nearly a full foot of wire free before meeting resistance. A sharp tug pulled the wire free from the switch. Finally Gertrude brushed the bared end of the wire against the bare metal around one of the screw holes and was rewarded with a small cascade of sparks.

Now for phase three.

 

Both rear lamp clusters were covered inside the trunk by dark plastic mouldings. They simply clicked into the body work and the one nearest to her pulled away easily. The lamp cluster itself housed three bulb holders each with wire coming away from its rear. Gertrude pulled one free at random, then with the blade of her utility knife she cut one of the wires about two inches from the bulb, she bared the end then held the bared wires against the bared wire from the interior light lead and was rewarded with a glowing bulb.

Now for phase four.

 

 

She replaced the bulb in the brake light housing then she began:

Make the circuit,

Break the circuit,

Make the circuit,

Break the circuit,

Make the circuit,

Break the circuit.

Then

Make the circuit.......hold........break the circuit,

Make the circuit.......hold........break the circuit,

Make the circuit.......hold........break the circuit.

Then

Make the circuit,

Break the circuit,

Make the circuit,

Break the circuit,

Make the circuit,

Break the circuit.

Pause.

Then again and again, praying all the time that someone behind the car would see the brake-light flashing – and know the Morse code International Distress Signal!

 

Gertrude was finding it increasingly difficult to keep focus, the pain from her shoulder and the constant blood loss from her tongue was taking its toll and she was getting weaker. It had been some time since she had heard a car pass in either direction. She could tell from the ride that the car had left the main roads behind and they were driving through the woods to the west of town further reducing her chances of rescue. She began to plan for the possibility that rescue would not come but she was now very weak, she was still bound and worryingly her tongue had gone completely numb. It had become a dead weight in her mouth and had caused her to almost choke several times. If rescue did not come she had nothing.

 

Then finally the sound she had prayed for; a police siren. She stopped tapping out her SOS (she was not sure if what she signalling was still recognisable as Morse code anyway) and unaccountably began to cry. Sobbing uncontrollably she was thrown around inside the trunk as her kidnapper sought to evade capture. Each jolt, each jerk, each bump, sent more dizzying agony through her shoulder. Gertrude's terror reached a crescendo as she was pinned against the rear of the car by the rapid deceleration, then thrown against the trunk lid, then a second of weightlessness, then a sound like every clap of thunder she'd ever heard rolled into one, then blackness, then nothing.

 

To be continued.

 

 

© Clive Bytheway-Platt 2012


© Copyright 2017 theperilsofgertrude. All rights reserved.

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