Back to your bike

You really can't leave your bike there. If it gets stolen, your parents will have a fit. Besides, it'll be faster than walking home, and you can get the cuffs and gag off, too.

You start walking back through the forest, your pace slowed by your lack of shoes and bound wrists. Your head turns back and forth, constantly watching for signs of other people. You think you hear something, and you scamper for the nearest cover, which turns out to be a large fallen log. Planting one bare foot on it, you half-leap, half-tumble over it, landing belly-down behind it.

Several tense moments later, you think you're alone, and you carefully roll over, then struggle to a sitting position. A brief look around confirms your alone, and you stagger back to your feet.

It takes you almost a half-hour, and a few more scares, to find your way back to the edge of the forest by the park entrance. The parking lot is still empty, thankfully, but your bike is missing. You swear. The boys must have taken the time to find where you stashed your key, and grabbed it.

Then it hits you with a start. Your key was in your purse with the spare handcuff key. If they walked off with your purse, you have no money, no ID, and no way to get the cuffs and gag off. Panicking, you scramble over to where you left your purse, all pretenses of caution forgotten...