Accidentally Kidnapped

6-Hideout

    Connor turned and started untying my wrists. Joe came around and untied my legs. Once free, I rubbed my wrists gingerly. The rough rope had cut into my tanned skin. I also felt a small bruise forming on my forehead from where it was smashed into the seat. I had heard Bill talk about no one being around for miles, and even though he could be lying, I decided to wait for a better time to escape, because I would likely be caught before I left the driveway if I made a run for it now. My legs were sore from the rope too, and I'm not the fastest runner. Walking towards the door, I was flanked by Connor and Joe. The old door opened with an enormous creak. Inside it smelled vaguely of soured milk. The door was closed and locked. A small kitchen and living room full of overstuffed furniture greeted them in a cold, eerie manner. Connor went over and scanned the fridge and Joe climbed the narrow stairs from the living room. I felt so awkward: I was a prisoner in a trailer and didn't know what to do.
    Connor threw a bag of chips onto the table. My stomach let out a loud growl. "Help yourself, Hosage," he said mockingly. 
    "My name is not "Hostage," I said angrily while opening the cupboards. "It's Penelope."
    "Well then, Pen, my name is Connor, the driver is Bill, and that's my other brother, Joe." He came barreling down the stairs.
    "I heard a chip bag open and came running!" He said in fake exhaustion. I drew us back to our conversation.
    "It's Penelope to you! Only my friends call me Pen, and you guys are definitely NOT my friends."
    "Hate to break it to you, Pen, but you're our hostage, so we can call you whatever we want," Joe climbed down the last step. "Joe! I need you to come with me to make the exchange with the statue. Connor, I need you to stay with our hostage here," he bobbed his head in my direction. "Do you need us to tie her up or will you be ok?"
    "I'll be ok. I'll just lock the door. Besides, I know where the duct tape is if I need it," he gave me a pointed look. I rolled my eyes and sat down at the scratched up table with a bag of pretzels. Everything else looked expired. I watched as Bill carefully placed the golden bird statue into a duffel bag filled with bubble wrap. By the wheels of the stolen car had pulled out of the driveway, Connor had already eaten half the family sized bag of chips. I had lost my appetite. I pushed the barely touched pretzels away and leaned back in my chair. The only one guarding me now was Connor. Sure he was a guy and a little older, but if I could find the right weapon or time, it should be pretty easy to escape. As I drifted unknowingly into sleep, my plan came into view.