Chapter 86

A vibrating sensation pulsed up my neck to my head, over and over again. My body was still, but the orange sun-lit ceiling above me was swirling. My mouth was moving with gasps and grunts, but all I could hear was a high pitch ring and nothing else. Didn't distract me from my pain though. My head, my skull, throbbed intensely. Jesus fuck, what happened? Somehow, my hand found its way to my head on the ground. It was tingly, pulsing, but all I felt was wetness through my hair. Blood.

No, no, no, I can't be slowed down. I can't be hurt or in trouble, I'm so close! The thought of not making it kicked me into panic mode! I tried moving, rolling on my side, sitting up... but the spinning walls and floor weighed my body back down. Even if I could get up and work through the pain, I was very weak. I shook my bloody head against the floor in denial, adding to my already swirling vision. No, no, my fucking god, no! Get up! Hurry!

Before my vision could stabilize, the mass of a man entered my sight. He was towering over me, and though I couldn't see details, he moved fast. He reached over towards the kitchen counter, bent down towards me, and roughly grabbed my arms. The man dragged them above my pounding, shoved my wrists together, and locked them with something. It felt like a thick heavy-duty zip-tie! I tried resisting, getting up again, I really did... but my vision and pain didn't allow for it! Fuck! Get up!

The ringing in my ears started to dim, allowing me to hear my gasps – and him shuffling over me. He stepped around me, grabbed my arms from the marble floor, and started to drag me! Drag me towards the living room I just left. My legs kicked, my body thrashed, but not enough. My vision began to clear, and with my head slacked back, I could see who was towing me. Walking backwards and pulling me into the living room was Reid Taylor. And the sight of him... was devastating.

"No, no, fuck no," I panted, thrashing harder, trying to rip my arms away from his grip, but I couldn't! It wasn't good enough! Ugh, my god, I was so fucking close! Why now? Why so close? If he had caught me earlier, I wouldn't have been so devastated, but I was so fucking close! I got this far! Far enough that I wrongly allowed myself to think I might live! There was a sliding door a few fucking yards away! But no, of course, he has to show up.

It broke my heart, it really did, but I couldn't deal with it. This was too painful of a way to die, so close to freedom, I can't let this happen! Yet, I couldn't do shit! Fucking come on! I kept fighting him, as hard as I could, but I was still too out of it. My efforts didn't even phase him, I was that vulnerable!

Though he came to a stop, the room didn't. Reid was quick to push me up into a sitting position, my back resting against what I felt to be the edge of the glass coffee table. My wrists being locked behind my back wasn't enough to stop me though! I shot forward to get away... and basically buckled back to the floor thanks to my dizziness.

Ugh, get up! Trying to blink the dizziness and pain away, he grabbed me and shoved me back up into a sitting position. This time, his hand a vice on my shoulder, while the other scrambled over my body. "You must have something besides your get-up assisting you in your heroic escape," he mumbled. Rushing from my back, to my thigh, then my hip— bitch found my gun. He pulled it from my skirt hem, shuffled away on his knees, and held it up to me.

It paused my will to fight. I couldn't do anything. Both of us breathing hard, my vision cleared after a few moments. I could see the gun aimed towards me without it swaying. I could see him in more detail too. The slight stubble along his cheeks and sharp chin, his eyebrows creased, his wild yet calculating eyes set on me.... I hated it. Hated the sight of this man. He was wearing an untucked white dress shirt and blue tie. What I wouldn't give to add a splash of blood red to his business attire, but I wasn't exactly in a position to do that.

The edge of his panting lips slowly tilted up. He lowered the gun, but he was still obviously holding the power. "I almost want to apologize."

"For what?" I asked, my nose scrunching in annoyance.

"For catching you when you were so close to escaping."

Well, you did, so just fucking shoot me! That's all I could think, was just how pathetic this still was. He got the gun, he could kill me, and yet the loser just loves milking his time with me. I almost wanted to laugh. How many times does the same mistake have to be made? Here is a lesson folks: when you have your target and want to shoot them... don't have a fucking tea party and chat it up.

"You don't realize just how impressed I am with you, Albany. If I wasn't up here and getting ready to leave, you probably would have escaped."

"Getting ready to leave? What, are you going on a fucking cruise?"

He raised a curious brow, as if he expected me to already know what he was talking about. "The FBI will be here soon. We found a device attached to an exposed wall of my institution. It's been interfering with our systems power and it's only a matter of time until they arrive. I can only assume you played a hand in leading them here."

I closed my eyes. That explained the chaos downstairs and the lights going out. And that's all I needed. That's all I wanted to hear. Knowing the FBI were here... that was better than anything, better than even me escaping. I couldn't help but smile when I opened my eyes. "So you're packing up all your nude paintings and running, huh?"

"I'm more particular about what I put in my luggage but essentially, yes." He smiled. "I'm going to hide out, leave for Russia, and start over. You will finally by greeted by what you've managed to avoid all this time: death. You lose."

I snorted. Nothing he said mattered. Getting shot by him didn't matter. "I won. If your stalling ass ever decides to actually kill me, I still win. All I needed was the FBI to come here and find everything you've kept hidden. And guess what fucker, I won." My tracking device in my arm that I cut out... finally paid off. They finally are coming. Jackson and Luke will be okay. Though Reid was running, all these poor girls and his whole set up... were still here. They would all be saved. And with him saying the FBI was near, I felt more confident than ever about that.

Humming in amusement at my words, he nodded and looked to the floor. "I see. You made another deal with them."

I nodded. "Sure did."

"Well played."

My senses were back to normal by now. And though I was full of pride knowing I accomplished what I wanted, this man would still be alive. So if possible, instead of me getting shot, I would prefer him being the one taking the bullet. I had no clue how... but instinctively, I strained my wrists against the lock. If I pull hard enough, would it break? Would I even have the strength to do that?

If so, I needed to live as long as I could. Hopefully him loving to talk would give me enough time to figure a way out. "If the FBI are coming, why are you up here? In a visible house? And by yourself? I shouldn't be shocked. All you guys are stupid. Then again, snagging all those lovely pictures of me are probably worth the risk." Without allowing it to show, I pulled my wrists. Using as much muscle as I could without giving away what I was doing. Nothing yet. If only I had that damn knife, but he would be able to see if I reached for it.

He chuckled, and his body relaxed more from where he was kneeling a few feet from me. "No, but seeing you one last time is worth it."

"How nice," I cringed, and that small movement, intensified the pain. My head was pounding, and with the angle of my arms, the bullet wound burned. Wincing, I looked down to where I wrapped it.

"I see someone was already shot."

Since I shuddered and winced from the pain, he didn't take notice that I pulled on my wrists again. "No shit. Thanks to you though, my head feels worse." Then, I had an idea. I needed to buy time and free my hands, but it would take some good old acting skills. "Before you kill me though, and run like a little bitch, I want to know something," I said, closing my eyes tightly with a 'wince.' I was playing up my pain. Playing up how much my pounding head hurt and how 'sore' my arms were. It allowed me to strain my wrists, try to break it, all the while he just thought I was enduring the pain.

"What's that?"

"How much about Hailey was bullshit?" Truly, the only reason I asked was because I needed to fill time. Knowing how much this subject meant to me convinced him enough.

He smirked, searching my eyes. I pulled my wrists harder apart. Harder, and harder, muscles in my arms spasming. I was so weak, so weak, but I had to break this thick plastic locking my wrists together.

"None of it."

Pulling harder as nonchalantly as I could, tensing more, I shook my head and scoffed. I arched a brow at him. "Be real with me man."

He leaned forward, stressing his words with his wide energic eyes. "Yes. None of it was bullshit. I brought that bitch back here; after I sold her, I brought her back here just for you. Just to have the satisfaction of you two meeting."

Face turning red, I 'winced' hard. You know, from the physical pain as well as receiving validation about Hailey. Obviously, it was not because I was straining my arms as much as fucking possible against the thick plastic.

Reid was loving dropping this information on me. Even though he never looked away from me, the gratification in his gaze told more than his words. "There was no manipulation involved in the situation with Hailey. There wasn't bullshit with most other situations I put you through here either – and you know that. Which makes my efforts more effective."

Harder, harder... I dipped my head to the side, biting my lip hard. It was so difficult not showing the pain in my wrists and how much muscle I put into it. "Ugh my stupid fucking head," I groaned, giving reason for my tease state.

"If I wasn't going to kill you, I may have helped you ice it."

I pulled harder and didn't stop... until the plastic snapped.

The force made my arms want to jolt away, but I forced them not to. I couldn't believe it worked! My hands were free behind my back without Reid noticing. But it wasn't without a price.

My wrists stung from the pressure it took to break the lock. Enough pressure to slice into my skin. Pretending my wrists were still bound behind me, I could feel blood trickling down my fingers and onto the floor. I didn't want to worry about it, but... I've had my hands and wrists sliced before. From how intense the stinging sensation was and amount of blood I could feel... it went deeper than I was comfortable with.

Reid continued rambling for a moment, blabbing about how great he was to do what he managed to do and blah blah blah. He was a few feet away from where I was sitting with my legs stretched out before me. Too far away to do anything crazy while he has a gun. Too far away to even attempt to pull my knife out on him.

But I had to figure out something! I'm fully free to move! My arms are free. But how am I going to get the upper hand without getting brain-fucked by a bullet? No matter what I did, the chances weren't good. Still, I would have to try. And apparently, I would have to try... right now.

My heart jumped at his next words. My time here on this Earth was reduced now to just seconds if I didn't do something! "It really is a shame that I must do this. I was looking forward to our future in Russia, but it's too late for you. I need to get my things and leave before it's too late for me as well," he said, getting to his feet and moving next to me. He stared down at me, with a look of sadness almost. Oh my god! What am I going to do to stop him?! "It was a true pleasure, Albany."

Time to do something! As he started to raise the gun, I bent my knees under me and launched up at him, throwing all my weight to him. He didn't fall, but he stumbled back enough to give me a second. A second. He had to catch himself against the wall and in that time, I bolted for the kitchen.

Bang, ban— Fuck! Oh fuck no. The first shot was just loud, but the second shot was painful. Inflicted just seconds before I ran out of sight into the kitchen. I kept going, running into the large dining area, and didn't stop. But I didn't go for the sliding door. I wouldn't make it. Running past that door was just as painful as the gunshot, but I knew better!

The dining and kitchen area opened up to another sitting room. I rounded the first corner that put me out of sight – because I knew he was coming! Then I rounded another silently.

I was in a hall, and froze in place, catching my breath. I couldn't just leave, no matter how much I might want to. If I went through that sliding door, if I leave, Reid will know it. And he will inform his men of it too. You can all guess how that one would end. With a gunshot that was worse than the one I just received from him. Yup, no thanks. I had to kill him now. I had to.

I withdrew my knife and eased down the hall more. Thankfully the layout resembled a normal home. I only had to move a few more feet along the marble floors to step in a bathroom.

I stood, hugging the open door, waiting and facing the hallway. I forced my breathing to quiet. The orange light from the windows and the sliding door seeped down the hallway and slightly into the bathroom I hovered in. My heart was pumping erratically, which is why it took a moment to feel where my blood was pumping from.

I didn't need to see the wound to know exactly where it was. Because of the lodged throbbing pain, I know I was shot in the shoulder from behind. Same side that my arm was shot. Thank god! It's weird to say it, but it was truly my lucky day. Both those gunshots I took could have been worse. That didn't mean I was in good shape though.

I was shot in the arm, the shoulder, and my head was slammed into the floor. Staring down at myself, the uniform wasn't bloody, but my hands were from the seeping dark lines on my wrists. My adrenaline was high, allowing the pain to not smack me as hard in the face, but it sure had an effect. My limbs and torso ached, as if my energy was draining from me. I was lightheaded. From running, my vision was slightly blurred along the edges. I managed staying focused and forced it out, but for how long could I keep that up?

It was a battle – ignoring the effects of my wounds and how scared I was. Where was he? When would he walk down this hall? What would happen when he did? I stood there, tense, ready with the blade. It felt like forever until I heard footsteps along the hard floor.

They were slow... and got closer. Closer. He was right around the corner in the hallway. How close? Because I needed to strike first. The next step was louder – and one more step, he would see me standing in the bathroom. He was right there, right in the hall. Taking a deep breath, I rushed out and lunged the knife at him.

It all happened so fast. He wasn't ready and I stabbed him. Not his chest or stomach like I wanted, but his side. He grunted and stumbled back, pulled my arm away from the knife, and he dragged me with him. To avoid the gun, I shoved my weight into him and thrust my free bloody palm up into his face. He cocked his head back and groaned, turning and hitting the wall with his back. He moved forward with me, twisted my arm, making me exclaim as well.

Our struggle led us out from the hall into the sitting area. In the process, my knife must have skidded off somewhere after I stabbed him because I had no weapon. As he tried twisting my arm, he grabbed my shot shoulder with his other hand. And though I screamed in pain, it told me... he also didn't have a weapon now. He was using both hands. He must have dropped the gun in the hallway after I stabbed him.

His fingers in my wound created little shockwaves. Made the back of my eyes pulse. Made my head and all wounds sting, but I blocked it out. I wasn't letting him get me in an arm lock. So I tucked myself inwards as we stumbled into the open room. I turned, bent, and shoved my knee hard into his groin. He didn't allow me to break away from him and the force made him stumble back. We smacked into a wall. And the sudden impact... made our limbs loosen. Made me break away. Then, I bolted.

I didn't notice the other opening in the sitting room, but I did now, and I bolted through it. I realized it was a loop. I was back in the kitchen, but not for long. My feet skidded to a stop from a grip around my torso from behind. Fucker was too fast! Or I was just too weak and slow. The pressure made me grunt through my teeth.

He pulled, struggled with me, tried containing me though I wouldn't let it. Until we ended up stumbling back to where this started: in the living room he first pinned me. My blood streaks and droplets were still slick along the marble from earlier, lit by the scenic windows. This time though, he didn't have a gun. He didn't have the upper hand. I was weak and hurt, but determined and able. That made all the difference.

When he yanked me into the room from behind, I went with his momentum, propelling my feet to back up with him. Before he could stop it, my weight made him slam into one of the end tables next to the leather couch. I heard the table hit the floor along with a shatter from a ceramic lamp it held. He grunted, trying not to tumble over with it. Then, it was my turn to not only grunt, but scream.

He grabbed my hair, pulled me off him, spun me to face him, and landed a very hard punch to my face.

Though I was putting up a good fight, that punch – and the effects of everything else – sent me spiraling. My senses, my wounds, my muscles, my nerves were stunned. I screamed out and was knocked back, legs barely stable enough to keep me from sinking to the floor. My fuzzy vision captured Reid as he came at me. I tried striking him again, but he blocked it. He grabbed my arm, and simply swiped my legs out from under me. My body hit the marble and I gasped.

The late light filled the room. Lit the floor and the surrounding furniture to my left. My muscles felt numb. I looked down and my bleeding wrists didn't help. My whole body pulsed, pain flowing through my veins – and blood from open wounds. I couldn't get up. I could not.

Reid stepped over where I was helplessly sprawled. Lowering his body, he kneeled over me, trapping my hips. Breathing hard, his energized eyes didn't leave me, searching my dazed gaze.

Then, he wrapped his hand around my neck.

"More personal than a gun." His fingers... squeezed.

My already ragged breathing hiked immediately. Out of force, my heart doubled in pace against my chest. I tried fighting him, tried pushing up. His weight, his grip, was too strong. His other hand pinned my arm to the ground, and I couldn't think, I couldn't think, I couldn't do anything!

Pressure was building in my throat, my lungs, my head. Heat, fire, no relief, no release, no air! No, no, no, no, no! No matter how many times I've internally begged before, my pleas were never as desperate as they were now. Please, please, my fucking god or whatever the hell is out there, just no. Just no! My limbs scrambled under him, my one free hand aimlessly swinging against the floor. Legs jolting, hips pushing with no effect. Withering, needing, trying...but I didn't move. Like a bug stuck in a web, my struggle was useless! This is it... this is it! I pushed, scrambled in place, my face heating every second. Suffocating every second! My lips were gaped open, mouth and lungs striving for air. Nothing. Not a stream of air! Nothing! No, please my fucking god, no! 

My eyes were about to burst. Vision already fuzzy, the image of Reid strangling me turned red and black. Then, my left arm scrambling along the marble felt something. The tip of my index finger felt a ridge. A curved and long sharp ridge. I towed it with my finger and held what I could feel was a ceramic shard. From the lamp!

I gripped it hard, swung my arm in an arch, and plunged the shard into the side of his neck.

My red and grey tinted sight captured a beautiful image. Of the shard sticking deep into his neck, drawing enough blood to create a stream. Enough blood to initially spurt on me. Reid's eyes were bulging out, probably just as much as mine. His lips parted and an unnatural sound left them. His eyes didn't leave mine – but his grip did.

A loud intake and gasp hit the air from my lips, and I breathed, breathed, and breathed and coughed and gasped so heavily with greed! I can breathe! Pressure gone, the red haze around my vision disappeared. Yet, all I saw was more red.

The wound seeped down and dyed his dress shirt red. Being directly under him and in the splash zone, the blood almost pulsed out and covered me too. His bulged eyes tilted red and his parted lips... released blood. Staring down at me, it dripped from his lips onto my shirt and neck.

Then, I felt his body over me go slack. His weight dropped and he slumped off of me, hitting the ground with a finality that I couldn't mentally accept and believe. Couldn't emotionally handle. After the loser still didn't get up from where he collapsed, I let out a little chuckle and sat up. I stared down at where he laid on his side, eyes open and glazed over. I was alive and he wasn't. Who would have thought I'd be able to actually do it? For a minute there, not me.

My head spun after I got to my feet. I needed to use the side of the couch to hold me up. I blinked several times, trying to build up my strength. In those few minutes, I made it a point to stare at Reid Taylor's dead body. Burn it into my head. Yet, the moment I felt capable enough, I didn't waste time.

I needed to get out of here. I wasn't out of the woods yet. And these woods... were covered with people, probably searching.

I didn't fully inspect any of my wounds. Call me stupid, but allowing the pain in and seeing how bad I actually felt... wouldn't help me. So, the most I did was tear some clothing off and tie it around the wounds. Especially my wrists, which was honestly my biggest concern with all the blood loss. Then, I walked through the kitchen, and this time, faced the sliding door.

The colored sky over the hilly land was a deeper orange. It was getting darker, but maybe that would give me an advantage. Though I disabled their cameras – which included the ones for the perimeter – who knows, they could be back up and running. The darker it is, the harder it will be for them to see me. That didn't mean too much to me at this point. There was no denying how difficult this will be; maybe even impossible. And not just because of the cameras.

These people... were freaking out. They were looking everywhere for any more signs of the FBI. They were so paranoid about security – and now there is this huge threat. Yeah, you can bet they were searching this forest, looking for the FBI or any other device they apparently left on the property to disable them. Though I retrieved the gun, and found my knife, I wouldn't fool myself. I will still probably die here tonight. If that happens, I could at least take satisfaction in knowing it will be outside, surrounded in nature and not this fucked-up place.

I opened the sliding door... and stepped outside. A soft breeze brushed my face. If I wasn't in survival mode (and emotionally gone at the moment) I might have cried from the feeling. I stayed glue to the outside of the house brick, inching along the brick and hitting grass with my black flats. The mountain air around me smelled like freedom and the sound of crisp fall leaves ruffling was music. My focus, my fear, kept me in line though.

Just a little more, just a little more until the woods.... I didn't want to sprint, or move into the open yard. So I inched further along the brick siding. When I reached the edge and moved to the side of the one-level house, I was on a slant. The land dipped and the other half of the home was supported by thick beams. The trees were close enough now. I stepped away from the house and entered the thick trees. Moving down the slant of forest that Reid's scenic windows presented. Only now, after a little bit, I couldn't see his house or anything.

I turned further into the woods, wanting to move as far away as I could. I didn't hear anything besides the crunch of sticks and leaves as I slowly moved. I wanted to book it, I really did, but fear kept me at an even pace.

Maneuvering in and deeper into dense forest and dark forest, I had a little bit of light to see still. It allowed for my eyes to go everywhere as I moved – and my dizzy mind to follow. Waiting to get shot or found or chased down at any second. Ready to die, fight, and run... for what I would guess would be at least 15 minutes. Ready for anything as I dodged ropes or roots and monstrous tree trunks covered in moss. Until I heard voices.

They were far enough away that I couldn't make them out, couldn't distinguish anything. Just the direction was all I knew. I froze the second I heard them and ducked down into the brush. Moving slowly around the closest tree, I slumped against it and waited. When I heard the voices get farther away, I got to my feet. But only after using the tree trunk to help and even then, the obstacle of getting up was difficult.

After I stood up and continued, the physical effects of what I just went through started to sink in. I was dizzy as I continued walking, the bipolar terrain taking a toll on my already weak body. I found myself wanting terribly to just collapse. My head was burning along with my ripped lungs with every breath I sharply breathed. My ripped flesh, and bullet wounds had a pulse of their own. I didn't even take a second to think where I was going. Just away from there. Unfortunately, I knew too well how deep these woods are. If I'm not caught, the chances of me surviving the wilderness in my state was just as slim.

But I needed one last push and fight in me, which I didn't know if I had. My footsteps had a rhythm against the cold ground and dead leaves. It was almost dark and I couldn't see as well. I could hear just fine though. After climbing a few rocks to get to a new level of the forest, I heard a large branch snap and interrupt the music of my steps. It was too close and immediately, I ran without barely seeing where I was going.

The moment I took off, I heard voices, very hushed, aimed at me. A few voices too! I'm fucked; I can't stop if I want to live. However, there wasn't much left in me. My fast movement made my head swarm instantly. I brushed against the trees, tripped on roots and the uneven rocks, but didn't stop. Breath ripping out of my lungs, full of pain, I couldn't stop... but my body disagreed.

I ran a little more, then my legs gave up without permission. Body hitting the forest floor, I scrambled to the closest tree, resting my back against it. If it gets bloody, it will have to be from right here! I heard their voices, but couldn't focus on their words. Closer, closer. Breathing harder and louder than I wanted to, my hand rushed to my side to retrieve the gun from my skirt.

Before I could reach it though, with the small light left in the dark forest, a man rounded the tree a foot in front of me. The shadow of the man fell on his knees before me and the second I felt his hands, I fought. I pushed and struggled as if I had any strength, but finally, I heard the words he kept saying.

"You're safe, you're safe, you're safe. Albany, you're safe, you're okay," he said, hands on my shoulders to keep me in place, making me cry out in pain. I didn't want to die, I didn't want to die yet, I made it so far.... I tried pushing him off still, but I wasn't strong enough. I was stuck leaning back against the mossy trunk, ready for a bullet after he spewed those lies about safety to me. Realizing how weak I was, he removed his hand and grabbed a walkie, speaking into it. "725, we got her."

"Just shoot me and get it over with!" I grunted through my teeth.

"Don't move, Albany, you're safe. I'm with the FBI, Agent Albrich." Unable to struggle, I took in the guy thanks to the little bit of natural blue light left. He blended in with the shadows, but his face was clear. Someone I've never seen before, but when his eyes met mine, I couldn't look away. He was mid-40s, clean shaven, and had an honest face. "You're safe."

His words, I finally believed them. I heard more commotion and two other men came into sight, but voices were hushed. One clicked on a small flashlight and knelt before me as well. He checked my eyes, wrists, and other wounds after they saw I've been shot. The third man unfolded what looked like a cot with supports. All of them spoke calmly to each other, calmly to me, but I couldn't make out the words. I was lost in my head. Stunned. I stared at them and that was all I could do because slowly, slowly, I realized they were the FBI. I didn't need to fight them.

Not a minute after that realization, all tension left my body. My eyes closed. I allowed myself to be swallowed into the blackness I fought off this whole time and I welcomed it.

_______________________
_______________________________________

She did it! Finally out of that hell after all that time. Things aren't quite over yet though folks. I am very excited for the next and to show you where Albany's story will soon be closing. Thank you for reading!