Danielle’s core darkened in her stomach as she forcefully demanded what he had just said exactly there. He tells her to calm down, but his voice was cold and deliberate, leaving no room for possible doubt. She struggled against her handcuffs, screaming her name and function, hoping her official identity could still save her.
The pilot turns to her, eyes blank, affirming he knew exactly who she was and what she was doing. He mentioned the reports she had filed against the department, accusing it of putting its nose where it shouldn’t. Danielle’s blood boils as she suddenly remembers a complaint for misconduct filed two months earlier.
She had testified that an officer had assaulted a shelter resident and her name appeared at the head of the official report. She thought the affair had been forgotten or that justice had shielded her, but revenge had found her tonight. The cop adds that she had embarrassed people wearing the same badge as her, and that the truth disappeared.
The helicopter suddenly dived, making it slide brutally against the metal floor as it screamed of pure and simple terror. The men laughed again, too easy and cruel a laugh, while his horror turned to certainty. She realized there was no police station, no legal destination, only a death message.
The wind howled and the sky seemed endless around this metal cage that vibrated under the storm. Danielle’s cough became a thunder in her ears and for the first time, she thought she was going to die. She closed her eyes, murmuring a childish prayer, asking God not to let them win like that tonight.
The pilot stabilized the craft above a vast expanse of murky water, announcing it was the end of the line for her. His partner hesitates an instant, suggesting they were too close to the dyke and we might find his body. The pilot acquiesced and pushed the craft farther west, plunging deep into the absolute darkness of the wild bayou.
The flight lasts another interminable twenty minutes, paced by the laughter of the men and the atrocious pain of his wrists. Danielle’s tears mixed with her sweat as her wrists began to bleed against the steel of the handcuffs. Something changed then in her, no longer of fear, but a form of pure defiance in the face of death.
If she was going to die tonight, she’d make sure they never forgot her name or the crime they committed up there. The helicopter began to descend and the other officer picked up his phone to record what he called a piece of evidence for the story. Danielle stares at the target, dropping her identity in a broken but firm voice, accusing her future murderers in front of the camera.
For a brief instant, the laughter ceased and the helicopter flattened in dead silence above the dark, infinite swamp. Nothing more could be heard but the moaning of the wind and the waving of the blades awaiting the tragic denouement of this scene. Then, slowly, the door began to open further, letting in the icy breath of storm and fate.
The device cut through the night like a wounded bird, its paddles dropping above the black immensity of the Louisiana swamp. Inside, Danielle Morris was strapped to a steel bench, her wrists bleeding profusely under the effect of the overly tight handcuffs. The smell of oil and sweat mingled with the damp air violently stifled through the wide open door.
She tried to steady her breathing, but every inspiration was jerky and superficial as much as the terror oppressed her physically and mentally. Opposite her, Ryan Coyle tapped his gloved fingers on the console, freaking out at the mechanical rhythm of the engine blades. His partner, Deputy Hanks, leaned against the doorframe, boots bouncing above the dark, effusive void.
They looked relaxed, like men quietly returning from a normal service, and not executioners escorting a convict to the abyss. Danielle couldn’t tear her eyes from the red marked switch of a release latch near pilot Coyle’s shoulder. The simple fact that this switch exists and is within reach terrified her more than anything else.
She screamed with all her might to ask where they were taking him, but Coyle’s response was lazy and amused. He tells her she’ll be fine soon enough, ignoring his pleas and reminders of her total and obvious innocence. Hanks burst out laughing, claiming that’s what all the guilty said to try to save their skin.
The helicopter turned abruptly to the left, tilting it enough for Danielle to slide violently against her ill-adjusted safety harness. They're scary
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