In darkness there is always light

I never saw who it was that put me in this place. Sure I could smell them, but once they grabbed me everything went dark. I remember I was going to the gym in Fort Collins for my weekly pre-natal aerobics class. I remember stepping out of my truck in a chilly evening rain and reaching into the back for my gym shoes. That’s it, that’s all I remember.

I know it’s night, or at least I think it’s night, everything is dark. I’m lying in the back of what looks like an Explorer or an Expedition, my hands aren’t tied, but my feet are. I find this odd for some reason, I don’t know why. Things are a little foggy; I know I’ve been drugged with some sort of sedative, blah, cottonmouth. I remember that my cellphone is in my pocket, and it’s set on silent. It will flash when there’s a call or txt message, nothing more. I start adding names to a txt message list, my sister, Mom, my recruiter, my brothers, anyone and everyone. My fingers punch keys as fast as I can, I don’t know when I will be able to do this again. I see I’ve missed calls from Mom, my sister Katie, my brother Ryan and my recruiter. Oh well, this is more important. The message is as long as I dare:

“HELP! I been kidnapped. Think I heading north in what looks like an explorer or such. Help me pls!”

I hit send and pray someone will get the message, within minutes dozens of messages flood my phone. Most of them say not to get too frightened that help is on the way, and to pray. I shut my phone off, stashing it back in the pocket of my three season Columbia jacket. I turn onto my back and start to slowly stretch, long stagnant joints crack and I groan in pain. I hear a voice talking, it’s male and very close, and I assume the driver. I strain to listen, but the voice isn’t familiar. I realize that there is privacy glass between myself and the driver, and I have the extreme urge to pee. My son does a back flip in my gut, kicking my bladder in the process. Seven months pregnant and kidnapped, what kinda shit is this??

I start pounding on the glass in front of me, the vehicle starts to slow, and I scoot towards the tailgate, waiting to kick whoever answers. The hatch opens a bit; I kick it open and fall onto the pavement. A hand comes over my eyes, and then I feel a knife at my throat.

“Work with me here missy, and you just might get to see your baby born.” The voice isn’t familiar, but it has a familiar Western drawl to it. The knife presses a bit harder to my throat, I can feel warm wet under it.

“Come on, I’ll cut your feet free, but I’ll be your eyes. Can’t deprive a pregnant lady of peeing. It’s just inhumane. Follow me, do as I say and you’ll be fine.” The voice trembles a bit, whoever this is, this is the first time he’s kidnapped a person.

I know from all my training that it’s best to comply, to make your attacker realize you’re a person, and in my case a seven month pregnant single female. I let him lead me on a tether out into tall grass; about twenty steps later he stops, telling me to pee. I can smell clean air and fresh fallen snow; I have to be north of home, but where exactly? Wyoming is north, Montana past that. How long have I been asleep? I finish my job in front of my attacker, and follow him back to the vehicle. I know it’s a remote road; no one in their right mind would let a prisoner out to pee on a public road, too risky.

A bottle is put in my hands, which I am told to drink. I take a small sip, realizing it’s water with lemon and something else. Probably more of the sedative, but I can’t deprive myself of fluids. I know at this point my son could be born today, and his chances of survival are high. I’m at the end of month seven, pushing into month eight. Six weeks preemie isn’t too awful bad really, not like it was when I was born twenty-seven years ago.

I drink a good amount of the bottle and get thrown back into my dark space. At least I can see, but I wasn’t able to see who had attacked me. Within minutes I’m asleep, whatever sedative it was, damn is it a strong one.

I wake up shivering, now blindfolded. I feel a pillow under my head, sheets wrapped around me, I’m in a bed somewhere. I hear that same voice from before, although it sounds a little like an echo. That’s just the sedative wearing off, I’ll hear normally sometime soon.

“So you’ve had your fun with her, it’s my turn. I’ve always wanted to fuck a pregnant chick. Get the fuck outta here!” The voice is yelling, at another person. So I guess this guy isn’t acting alone? I can feel the first savage push, as his hands come around my neck. I know what a condom feels like, even though it’s been over two years since I’ve used one. He’s that smart at least, they won’t get his DNA. But what about who was before him? I start to feel like I’m losing consciousness, and I dig my nails into my rapist’s back. Got you asshole!

I wake up again, this time in a snowfield. My hands and feet are free; I squint from the sun burning at my eyes. I listen, but hear nothing around me but trees gently swaying in the wind. I slowly pull myself into a standing position, dizzy and sick with the after effects of the sedative. Whoever it was that abducted me was kind enough to leave me on a well used and marked trail. For some reason my gut tells me to head south, thank God I can tell direction from where the sun sits in the sky. I walk for what feels like hours, stumbling upon a Ranger cabin. I sit down on the cleared steps, pulling out my cell phone. I have only enough battery for one, maybe two phone calls. The first call is “911”, I calmly explain to the operator what happened to me, and tell her to track where I am via the cell signal. I look into the window of the cabin and see a large map of Glacier National Park on the wall, and then tell the operator where I am. She tries to keep me on the line, but my cell beeps and shuts it’s self down. Montana is a long way from Colorado, hell I’m almost in Canada. I’m in Kyle’s neck of the woods, maybe twenty minutes from his hometown. I start feeling dizzy, and lay down on the steps. It feels good to lie down after my hike.

I wake up to hands loading me on a stretcher, the whip of chopper blades close in the distance. I look up to see an older Paramedic looking down at me, the nameplate on his chest reads “Don Cantrell.” I know that name well; I’ve heard it many times within the last year.

“You’re Kyle’s dad aren’t you?” My voice strangled behind the oxygen mask, I doubted he could hear me.

“Yes, how do you know my son?” Don takes the mask off my face, leaning close to hear as they load me into the Agusta 109A II.

“This is your Grandson.” I lay my hand across my taunt belly as my head falls back, the world going dark.

I can hear familiar voices talking quietly around me. I open my eyes slowly to see my sister Katie, my Mom, Sharon, and my brother Ryan sitting in my room. I realize I’m in a labor and delivery room, especially with the pang of contractions within my gut.

“Oh my God, Angeni! You’re awake! Oh my God!” Mom has always been a little over-dramatic. She rushes to sit next to me, holding my hand. “It’ll be over soon honey I promise, all you have to do is push as soon as the Doc tells you to. And we’ll go home I promise.”

“How long have I been here? Will I be okay?” It hurts to talk; I assume I was intubated at one point or another. I feel the contractions getting stronger and grit my teeth.

“Oh honey, you’ve been here a day. We got here as soon as we could, as soon as we heard. I guess you gave them my number when you got here; I called Katie on our way here. You’ll be okay; the worst thing they did to you was rape you and drug you. The doctor says *Propofol, the sedative drug they used on you, will wear off soon and you’ll be okay. The police want to talk to you as soon as they can to start your case. Ryan, go get the nurse, I’m pretty sure your nephew wants to say hi!” I can see Mom’s been crying, I know this has had to been hard on her.

A nurse-midwife walks in, behind her follows Don, his wife Emile, behind her Kyle. His parents stand back in the room by my family, my brother and sister staring Kyle down as he takes my hand. Within what felt like an eternity but only an hour, I hear my son cry.

“It’s a boy!” The midwife exclaims, as the crowd gathered in my room expels the breath they had been holding. The nurse cleans my son up, laying him in a soft blanket before handing him to Kyle. Kyle stares at his son in amazement, as if he doesn’t believe it’s his own flesh and blood in his arms. A solitary tear runs down his face as he cracks a smile.

“John Warren Cantrell” I whisper before falling asleep.

I wake up later on, seeing only my sister Katie in the room, gently rocking my son. She hands him over to me with a smile, he’s so small in my arms, but yet so familiar. I look him over closely; he has his father’s blue eyes, nose and chin. But it looks as if he’s gotten my dark hair.

I turn to my sister as John Warren yawns, “Where’s Kyle? I figured he wouldn’t leave this little guy alone.”

I see that look my sister gets when she is pissed, as she takes a deep breath. “You know how you were raped during captivity? Well, one of the guys they matched DNA to was Kyle. How they knew to test him I don’t know, but the other guy was his pal Gibson. I’m really sorry Sis.”

I feel my heart sink, to know the father of my son to be a rapist, kidnapper, and a criminal. Why?


Author notes:
*Propofol – inject able sedative used by anesthesiologists during surgery to put a patient under for a short period of time. Commonly known as Diprivan, wears off within a few hours, but has some lasting side effects.