The stranger’s car was equally smelly. Fitting.

  A million questions were circling the boy’s head, but he was too afraid to ask any. The stranger had been close to him the whole time, from the store up to the car.

  He had his phone in his pocket — it had been there the whole time, and he was trying to figure out how to make an emergency call without the man noticing. He tried his best to keep a poker face while his right hand was inside his pocket, touching the phone, almost there—

  “Calm down, boy. Breathe,” the stranger said, interrupting his thoughts. He noticed the boy was clenching his fist, all sweaty. Looked like he might collapse.

  Will reacted to the phrase like he had been punched. He started screaming in terror and tried to open the door of the moving car. The man then tried to keep Will seated while driving, but Will did put up a fight. An ugly and loud fight, however.

  This was when things started to go downhill.

  Swerving the car to the side of the road, the man stopped to try and calm the boy.

  That didn’t work. Of course, it wouldn’t.

  When the car stopped, Will saw the opportunity, opened the door, and ran into the woods across the road.

  The stranger leaned back and sighed.

  Will ran like his feet were on fire, arms flailing. But soon they became jelly, and he had to stop behind a tree. He sucked in quick gulps of air, lungs burning. He hadn’t run in years — the last time was when the neighbour’s dog chased him.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Alternating between listening for the stranger and trying to slow his breathing, he thought he was safe. He reached for his phone, hands shaking and sweaty. Unlocked it. Opened the Phone app. Started typing—

  “Are you done?” the stranger whispered, close to his face.

  Too close.

  His mouth was near Will’s right ear — close enough that Will felt his breath.

  It was no better than the rest of his smell.

  Will made a funny noise. Funny to me at least. Certainly not to him.

  “How did you get he—”

  He didn’t have a clue who he was running from. If he did, he would’ve known running was futile.

  Before he could finish the question, the man grabbed his device and threw it far away, without breaking eye contact.

  “Hey! That’s mine!” he yelled, but the man got even closer to his face, staring at him.

  Only this time, there was rage in his eyes.

  “Shut up,” he growled, grabbing Will’s right arm and dragging him back through the woods, towards the car.

  When they reached the vehicle, the man threw Will back into the passenger seat and slammed the door. The window was open, and the stranger leaned against it, getting close again to the boy’s face.

  With all the patience in the world, he reached into the inside pocket of his coat and took something out. Fake patience, for the record. He wanted to punch this kid real bad.

  It was a gun.

  Will stopped breathing — eyes wide, face pale. Poor boy looked like roadkill that saw it coming.

  “Let’s start this again. Hmm?”

  Will nodded, terrified.

  The man walked around the car, sat in the driver’s seat, closed the door, and started driving again.