Jennifer packed the remaining things in the back of the car before heading across the street to Dave's house. It was time to say goodbye. "I should be more excited than this," she told herself. After all, it had been a month since she'd seen her family. A month since she'd seen the sea. Dave was rostered on the late shift and was still asleep when Jennifer knocked. Eventually he shuffled down the hallway, his hair a mess and with tears, albeit only the remnants of a yawn, in his sleepy eyes. He opened the door.
"Don't look so sad, Jen. A weekend away isn't that long," he said, trying to be more encouraging than he actually felt as he welcomed her inside. "I'll see you in a couple of days and besides, your family will be hanging out to see you." "I know, I know," Jennifer said. "I'd best get under way. It's a three-hour drive and I want to be there before dark." They moved together, holding each other tightly, the kiss they shared only adding to Jennifer's reluctance to leave. "I feel the same way," Dave said, reading her thoughts.
They kissed again and parted, with Dave - on Jennifer's insistence - heading back for more sleep, while she turned and walked slowly to her car, giving herself a private pep talk along the way. By the time she was in the driver's seat, she felt more at ease. If not jumping for joy, at least she had her priorities in order. Furthermore, the truth was that no matter how much Jennifer would miss Dave, she was eager to catch up and spend time with her family. There was so much to tell and she pondered where to begin. Pulling the seat belt across her body, she started the engine and checked the rear view mirror. What she saw sent a chill racing up her spine. At the same time, a hand reached across her face and firmly covered her mouth.
There was no chance to scream. "I just want to talk," he said. "I'm going to take my hand away. Please don't scream." Jennifer froze, recognising a face that had frightened her once before. She read the intent in his eyes, yet was also struck by a sense of vulnerability in him. It was in the way he said 'please'. "What the hell do you want?" she asked quietly, defiantly, glaring at the face in the mirror.
Maintaining eye contact, Jennifer tried to release the seat belt clip and reach for the door handle. The man pushed down the lock on the door. "Please," he repeated, and this time the word was filled with anger and desperation. He pulled a knife from his belt and showed it to Jennifer. The shiny blade glinted menacingly and she gave up all thoughts of resistance. "I don't want to hurt you. I just need you to do what I say," he said. Jennifer nodded.
"Drive." The man lowered the knife from view, but its image remained vivid in Jennifer's mind. Tears streamed down her face as she reversed out of the carport and drove away. Passing Dave's house, she prayed he might instinctively understand that something was terribly wrong. She willed him to open the door or look out of the window. Neither occurred and, as the man kicked her seat, Jennifer wondered if she would ever see Dave again.