CHAPTER 60: COLD WAR II
The nausea returned, this time with a vengeance. She clutched her stomach, a wave of dizziness threatening to overwhelm her.
she realized she was barefoot, having abandoned her shoes in the car during her frantic escape.
She took a tentative step forward, wincing at the sharp prick of a stray twig.
Pushing through the undergrowth, she stumbled blindly forward, desperate to find a way out of this wilderness instead, the dense foliage appeared to stretch on endlessly.
The darkness seemed to press in on her, every rustle a potential threat.
Then, a flicker of light pierced the gloom. In the distance, she noticed a fire blazed, casting a weird glow on the clearing ahead.
Diana's heart pounded with a mix of apprehension and a flicker of hope. Pushing through a curtain of leaves, she emerged into a clearing bathed in the warm glow of a crackling fire.
Diana approached cautiously, her senses on high alert. She looked around the clearing and didn't seem to find anything suspicious.
The clearing was empty, save for the crackling flames dancing in the night air and the unsettling silence. The fire was contained, burning steadily in a makeshift pit.
Who would light a fire and then just leave it? The question echoed in her mind, but exhaustion won over curiosity. With a sigh, she sank onto a nearby log, its rough surface a stark contrast to the plush comfort she was used to.
Drawing her knees to her chest, she rocked back and forth, seeking comfort in the meager warmth of the fire. Tears welled up in her eyes again, hot and silent. Her mind, once filled with anger and hurt, was now a blank canvas, numbed by the entire ordeal.
As the fire cast flickering shadows on her face, a new fear crept in – the fear of being truly alone, lost in this strange place with no way back.
Diana sat huddled deeper on the log, the firelight doing little to pierce the icy fear gripping her. A rustle in the bushes sent her head snapping up. A man in his forties, bald head gleaming under the moonlight and weathered, emerged into the clearing.
He held a cutlass in one hand, a canister of water in the other. He chuckled, a sound devoid of humor.
"Well, well, well," he rasped, his voice rough and menacing. "What do we have here?"
Before Diana could react, two more figures emerged from the shadows flanking the first, their faces obscured by the darkness. Torchlight flickered, revealing machetes and water canteens strapped to their waists.
"A pretty little thing," the second man rasped, a predatory glint in his eyes that sent a shiver down Diana's spine. All three men chuckled, a chilling symphony of menace.
Diana stood up and forced herself to meet their gaze. She locked eyes with the three men – imposing figures, their muscles taut beneath worn clothing.
Fear prickled her skin, but she forced it down, all feeling of faint gone replaced by weariness at the new sign of danger. Panic wouldn't save her.
Her voice was surprisingly steady when she spoke, despite the terror churning in her gut. "Don't do anything stupid," she warned, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her bravado.
"And why not, little lady?" the third man sneered, taking a menacing step forward.
"Do you have any idea who my husband is?" Diana blurted, her voice rising a notch. "He's powerful. He'll hunt you down like dogs and make you regret this by squeezing the very air your breathing right out of you."
A chorus of laughter erupted. A raw, guttural sound that sent shivers down her spine. The first man swaggered closer, his eyes gleaming with a cruel amusement.
"Honey," he drawled, his voice dripping with condescension, "your threats mean nothing to us. You will just be as easily to eat like the other girls before you and you'll be gone by morning."
"And when we are done with you, we will just as easily kill you and throw you to our dogs," the 3rd man finished.
Diana's stomach lurched. The casual cruelty in his words sent a wave of nausea crashing over her, she forced herself to swallow it down, forcing herself to think.
"The others?" she whispered, a horrifying realization dawning on her.
The laughter stopped abruptly. The first man's smile turned feral. "Yeah, the others. Now shut your pretty mouth, unless you want it filled with something else."
The panic in Diana's eyes could not be hidden any longer. As the men drew closer to her, she tried in desperate attempt to remain calm.
"What about my husband's money?" she pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice. "He is a very rich man and can give you anything you want, how about that and all you have to do is just let me go."
The laughter subsided, replaced by a tense silence as if they were contemplating her words.
Diana held her breath, hope flickering like a dying ember.
The first man leaned in, his face inches from hers. His breath reeked of something foul. "We don't care about your damn money, baby. Money can't buy your way out of this. Rather, we prefer a different kind of payment." His gaze turned predatory. "We ain't interested in riches. Just a little… recreation."
Diana cringed at the 'baby' word coming out from the man's mouth, it was a far contrast from when James called her 'baby'.
A horrifying realization then dawned on her at that moment. This wasn't about robbery. It was something far more sinister.
"Oh James," Diana whispered, a silent plea to the man she'd just run away from. In this moment, she never felt a more profound regret as to why she left him, damn her and her stupid emotions.
"Besides," the second man added, a cruel smile twisting his lips, "we hate women of colour, which happens to be you my dear... "