The Duplicate

Chapter Two

My brain doesn't want to comprehend this. It's like I've been zapped into a dream, a nightmare, and to make up for the confusion, my brain is shutting down, going into mechanical mode. I'm too dazed to do anything. I'm frozen.

"Open the door." The voice comes from beside me. Deep. A little raspy. Definitely male.

I do as it says, unlocking and pulling open my car door.

The cool tip of the gun presses just a tad harder into my skin, and I close my eyes. I remember the pistols I used to shoot with my grandfather when I was still in high school. I remember how easy it was to pull the trigger. Just a little pressure, just a little squeeze, and the gun would fire in a flash.

"Get in."

With quick, shallow breaths, I lower myself into the driver's seat.

"The key." A hand outstretches towards me, and briefly, my eyes flicker up at the barrel of the gun still pointed at my face. I drop the key into the hand.

The car door slams shut.

I see the dark figure of my aggressor then, a tall, trim shadow. Both hands glued to my steering wheel, I watch him round my car to the passenger's side door. He opens it and slips inside.

The slam of his door is like the slam of a jail cell.

I am now shut in with this living nightmare.

"I don't..." My mouth is dry. I try to swallow. "I don't have any money on me. All I have is my debit card. B-but I can withdraw—" The dark figure is suddenly reaching over towards me, and my words stick in my throat. I stiffen, not knowing what to expect. A blow to the head? A grope?

No.

He shoves the key into the ignition and turns it over. The engine hums to life.

"Drive."

"Where?" The word comes out in a whisper, just a breath.

The dark figure turns his head to look at me, and I see the faint gleam in his eyes from the streetlight a few parking lanes away. "I said, drive." This time his voice is dark, callous. It sends my heart racing.

I put my car in reverse, back out of the parking spot, and drive towards the exit of the hospital. My thoughts are spinning, whirling around and around. I grip the steering wheel so hard my fingers are starting to ache. "Listen," I say, trying to keep my voice even, but I can't stop it from quaking. I steer my car into the roundabout in front of the hospital, swinging towards the highway. "I'll give you all the money I have. I'll take you wherever you need to go. Just don't... don't hurt me."

"How far do you live from here?"

I shoot a glance towards the passenger's seat. "What?"

The gun comes up. The smooth metal glints in the dim lights of my dashboard. "I don't like to repeat myself," the figure says, "and I have a very slim amount of patience right now. So, I'll ask you one more time. How. Far. Do. You. Live. From. Here?"

"About t-ten to fifteen minutes away."

"Is anyone else there?"

Now my hands are trembling.

"Family? Friends?"

"Please..." My voice breaks.

There is silence from the passenger's seat.

The gun lowers. "Take me to your place."

My stomach drops. "Please, don't—"

"Give me your purse." The dark figure reaches over, and I flinch as he snatches my purse from my lap. My eyes flash from the road to him, back and forth, watching him rummage through my purse, throwing all the receipts and gum wrappers to the floor before he finally finds what he is looking for. My cell phone. 

The touchscreen lights up with a swipe of his thumb, but before I can get a good look at his face, he flips over the phone and rips open the back. The screen goes dark.

How did he—

"Eyes on the road," he says.

I jerk my head back around and stare dead ahead.

We ride in silence. Every road is vacant at this hour. Not a car is in sight. And as I drive, not another word comes from the nightmare in my passenger seat. He barely moves the entire ride, only sits with his elbow poised on the door, fist at his mouth, staring out the window. Even as I am finally turning into my driveway, he remains mute.

But my mind is screaming.

Never in a thousand years would I have thought I would look upon my own home as a prison. But that's what it is now as my headlights flash across the front windows and settle on the garage door. It's a prison. Once I go in with this guy, I don't know what will happen. I don't know if I'll ever be coming out.

I put my car in park and cut off the engine and the headlights. And I just sit, staring through the windshield at my front door.

The nightmare finally speaks.

"Don't lay a finger on that door. I'll come around and open it." He grabs the key from the ignition and turns to get out of the car.

"What are you going to do to me?" I look at him. It is even harder to see this dark figure now that tears are burning in my eyes. I can only see the outline of him. He is paused now, fingers clasped around the door handle, his face only a black shroud. But I know he is looking at me. I can feel those gleaming eyes staring back at me.

"Nothing," he says, "if you don't do anything stupid."