CHAPTER ELEVEN

Ess's breathing finally slowed down to a rate that wouldn't be defined as hyperventilating. The fact that she had opted for a stranger's car in order to get away from her kidnapper hadn't quite sunk in yet. She just let shivers of shock and waves of prickly warmth rake alternately through her body.

The man in the driver's seat had not yet attempted to speak to her. After aiming several vents of hot air in her direction, he just let her sit there and regain herself. Ess's toes and fingers began to ache as the numbness of the cold night thawed out of them. The feeling was a relief rather than a pain.

Coming out of the shock made her very tired, and she began to doze. No music played on the radio to either lull or disturb her, and the acceleration of the car as they evened out of the curves in the road seemed to sooth her agitation. She felt oddly comfortable and safe as she put distance between herself and her former captor, and soon she drifted off from exhaustion and ease.

An hour later she stirred from her dreamless state. It wasn't like her previous awakening when she had slowly returned to consciousness from what was likely a drug induced condition in the black vehicle. This time she didn't have to reclaim her senses to know where she was. The situation struck her much faster, and she woke with a start.

Ess's sudden wakefulness didn't go unnoticed by the driver. She knew he was watching her out of the corner of his eye. Still, he didn't speak.

She stuttered, trying to find something to say. Finally, she determined the best way to begin. "T-thank you. For stopping." From the light of the dashboard she looked at him as he gave her a quick masked glance. There was no indication that he accepted or refused her thanks.

She went on, her agitation accelerating as she spoke. "I – I wish I could explain what happened. I – I don't know how I ended up there . . . and you stopped . . . and then we were shot at, and – oh God, thank you for stopping. I don't know what I would have done . . ." As she was attempting to make her distorted and pointless explanation, she noticed that utter darkness surrounded the car. There were no distant streetlights, no headlights from other cars. The skyline from some far off city lights could not even be seen on the horizon.

They seemed to be heading away from civilization. Ess didn't know exactly where they were or what direction they were pointed in, but she was sure they were not heading back towards her home. She began to feel uneasy.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful," She really didn't, "But can you tell me where we're going?" Then she felt the need to elaborate, in case her hero felt offended at her qualm. "I mean, I don't think this is the way back to the city."

The man didn't reply. He looked as though he was struggling for words. She continued, "We really should report this to the police. I was kidnapped; we were shot at. We really should head for a police station." Ess felt nervous, and it was evident in her voice.

At long last, he spoke. "I don't think that would be a good idea." Well, that didn't do a thing to ease Ess's anxiety. Rather, it elevated it.

"Why not?" she squeaked out, failing miserably at hiding her resurfacing fear.

"Because your kidnapper has plenty of influence in the police force. They would just look the other way, and you would be an open target for Angoli's men. You're better off in hiding."

"What?" Ess whispered in disbelief.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to scare you. Honestly." The sincerity in his voice sounded strange in association with his words. "But the man responsible for your kidnapping is influential and dangerous. The best thing for you right now is to stay out of sight." He gave her a longer look than his previous glances, and she could see determination on his face. "And I'm going to help you."

"What?" Ess dropped her jaw in her shock. His short declaration sent many thoughts and questions swirling around in her head. Where to start? Perhaps the obvious question. "You just picked me up on the side of the road. What are you talking about?"

He grimaced, realizing that his words must be confusing to her. She had no idea what was going on. "I'll tell you everything, but you have to keep an open mind. Please don't jump to conclusions or develop an opinion of me just yet."

Ess felt dazed. She didn't understand his request, but she needed to know what he was talking about. She had to know what was going on. Whatever it was, it was affecting her life, and putting her in a lot of danger. She agreed to his stipulation with a simple "Okay", not sure if she could keep to it.

He started with a deep breath, taking it slow to ensure that he was thorough. "I think the best way to start would be to introduce myself – although we've actually met once, a long time ago." He took an opportunity to steal another glance at her. She looked puzzled.

"My name is Max. We first met when you were selling lemonade. I remember that you were trying to earn money so that the doctors could make your brother better." Yet another quick glance showed him that a cloud fell over her face. She remembered.

"You're the artist." It all fell together from what she remembered of him and what the man in the restaurant had told her when he informed her of the artist who created the Esther sculptures. The introduction sped through her mind, leading to the ultimate realization in a matter of seconds. He was an obsessed and deranged creep. That was the conclusion her friends had made after witnessing the effigies he had created. He was obsessed with her, and now he had her.

Another thought: he rescued her from the malicious kidnapper that was chasing her down in the woods. Ess was lost in confusion. Nothing made sense to her yet.

Max continued. "I just want you to know, I never meant any harm. It was just that – when you gave me that lemonade and you spoke to me as an equal human being – it was the first time I ever received kindness. Before that, I don't think I ever even knew it existed. And I never forgot it." He paused for a moment, slightly embarrassed to be sharing his feelings with someone other than Dr. Roden, but continued anyway. "It meant so much to me, and it became a sanctuary for me. I didn't have an easy childhood; but when I thought of you and you're compassion towards me, I just . . . I was able to carry on. It got me through some tough times." His explanation felt a little absurd and dramatic, but it was the truth. Part of him was grateful for the opportunity to be able to finally tell her how important she had been to his very existence.

Now, Ess was stunned. She only barely remembered the encounter, and really had no idea what kind of impact it truly had made to that ragged little boy. "And you became obsessed about it?" she ventured to ask.

"I'm afraid that was the diagnosis." Max replied, sounding rather ashamed. "But the way I see it is this: see, people believe in guardian angels, and ask for prayers of deliverance all the time. They believe and depend on them." Max noticed by another of his short glances that she was hearing him out. "They even rely on religious conviction to keep order and sanctity in a world where each one of their lives aren't . . . really even a worth a spec in the world's past or present or future." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Well, when I was a boy, you were the answer to a prayer that I didn't know to pray."

The raw honesty and intensity of this philosophical speech left Ess more astounded than ever. Dwelling on it, taking it all in, was too much. There were too many conflicting observations that it brought forth. It was better to keep the explanation going. "So, what does all this have to do with this 'dangerous man' kidnapping me?"