He watched her for the second morning, this time sitting still behind a fern tree. He had that feeling again-anticipation. His favorite part of the hunt. Even though he’d had her already, she didn’t know that. In a few minutes, she would.
She woke slowly, groggily, turning onto her side, moaning a little from her injuries. She sat up, realizing she was naked, and reached for the now-grubby sheet to cover herself, the handcuffs clinking. She scanned the clearing. He felt sure she would see him behind the scrim of fern, but she didn’t.
She seemed to be taking inventory of her body, feeling her breasts, and then looking down at them. They were blotched with suck marks, and she gave a little cry of horror. The hair stood up on his neck. She felt lower, her stomach, her thighs, her vagina.
She closed her eyes. He saw the blood drain from her face, and in the pearly dawn light she collapsed, curling into a fetal ball, weeping. The sight was so arousing he felt himself getting hard, and reached down, unzipping his pants and stroking, his eyes still on her. She cried and moaned, hugging herself.
Suddenly she jumped up, swaying a little but standing, her legs spread wide. “Fuck you!” she yelled. Her voice was like a cannon in the forest, silencing the birds, stilling his hand.
“Fuck you, you fucking coward! Come out and fight like a man, you cocksucker! Look me in the eye when you rape me, you bastard!”
He sat paralyzed, shriveling. She threw back her head and screamed, again and again, roars of rage and pain. She kicked over the ice chest, bashed her cuffed hands against the poles of the shelter until it collapsed. She ran to the edge of the tie out cable, yanking at it, then back to the other end where it was padlocked to the tree, scrabbling at it until her hands were bloody.
Terror held him still. She’ll kill me if she finds me or die trying, he thought. He waited until she finally sat on the fallen ice chest. He could see her trembling, and the asthma was back, muffling her voice as she cursed him.
It seemed like forever before she stood up, looking at the sun. She examined the contents of the ice chest, spilled on the ground. He had left a sandwich wrapped in plastic for her, and more water bottles. There was a bag of ice. She put the ice, food and water back in the chest, righted it. He could see her weighing where the drug might have come from, tearing a hole in the ice bag, taking a handful out and sucking it.
Good. He didn’t want her drugged all the time, she could die too soon.
She propped the shelter poles back up. Her body was trembling all over now, and the asthma was strangling her. She saw the inhaler where he had left it for her to find, and she pounced on it. Then she paused, considering, her wheezing, constricted breath audible even where he crouched among the ferns.
She must think it’s a trick, or drugged. He smiled in satisfaction. Gotta keep her guessing.
Finally she took two puffs of the inhaler and sat down, holding the vapor in her lungs as long as possible, sighing with relief as it took effect.
He moved away slowly, as one does when stalking something wild, careful not to make any noise. Eventually she would get hungry enough to eat, and the sandwich was fine. All of the water bottles were doctored, and he had a back up plan if she didn’t drink any. Wouldn’t it be funny if she deprived herself for nothing?
The thought was so satisfying he smiled, almost forgetting how terrified he had been of her-but not quite.