Finding Nowhere by Jeff Wade

Author:Jeff Wade [Wade, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Indie Author Project
Published: 2018-12-28T07:01:35+00:00

Screaming. Muted somehow. She panicked, thinking she was underwater.

No, not underwater. Her mouth was sealed shut. She gasped desperately for breath through her nose.

Jessi realized where she was. The cramped space, the blood-red glow.

Lying on her side, she tried to move, but her arms and legs wouldn’t seem to work. She rolled onto her back. Examined her arms. Her eyes widened.

Her forearms were bound in clear packing tape tinted red in the taillights’ glow. The binding ran from her wrists down to almost her elbows. Veins bulged on her hands; her fingers were hooked. A glance down at her legs proved they’d suffered the same fate.

Just to be sure, she touched her lips.

Packing tape.

She closed her eyes, sighed through her nose and let her head fall back.

The dream had been not only a dream, but a memory. A real event, every detail. Except for its rude awakening.

To Jessi, Mom was just Mom. But she’d been more than that, hadn’t she? People admired Grace Owen. With a few, it seemed their admiration was tinged with the slightest hint of . . . was it fear? Not often, but sometimes, people talked. Spoke in hushed tones. (A touch of the seer in her.) Jessi had never paid them much mind. But now a terrible truth punched her in the gut, stole her breath away. She’d never appreciated who her mother was, had she? Not really. She’d never asked about how she did the curious things she sometimes did. What she wouldn’t give for just five more minutes with her. Just five minutes! Her chin trembled and her eyes clouded.

Stop it!

Whatever Mom was, she had zero patience for whining. Maybe that’s why she and Dad had gotten on so well with Master Pastor. He had no time for the baby stuff, either.

She gritted her teeth and drew a deep breath.

Sensei had a whole library of stories about how to deal with all kinds of stuff. Multiple attackers, larger opponents, compensating for injuries . . . heck, he’d once done half a class on how to fight a dog!

But he’d never mentioned packing tape. A chuckle escaped her, imagining him wrapping some poor kid up like a mummy for a black belt test.

What Master Pastor did mention—in fact lectured on it all the time—was using your noodle. Learning to fight is great, but it’s the fighting spirit that counts. A survival scenario may not even involve kicking and punching. But you can always use the ability to stay calm in a pinch, just like when you’re sparring. The most important thing you can do is to think. What if you’re in a car accident? Or lost? Or find yourself flailing in a river?

Or wrapped in packing tape.

She shook her head, staring at the trunk lid. Okay, so what did she know about packing tape?

She and her mother often volunteered at the church. One day, their work had included unpacking UPS boxes. Her mother had deftly opened them using only a ball point pen. She’d

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