Not the sort of help she was looking for.

How do you get yourself into these sort of situations, Emily? With a quick, frantic look around you realize your options are pretty limited. The road is deserted with the exception of the two men advancing towards you and their respective vehicles. The road is completely surrounded by corn which is too high for you to see over. Help could be just ten paces to your right, or there may not be another soul within miles and miles of you.

With a final prayer for luck, you push the ridiculous thought that they may know each other aside as you dash towards the mailman.

"Please," you gasp as you practically leap into his arms, "help me! He's trying to hurt me!" You bury your face in his chest as you wrap your arms tightly around his middle like a drowning woman clinging to a life preserver. And given your 'curse', he may be just that!

"Who sweetie? Who's trying to hurt you?" the mailman, Buck according to his name tag, asks in a rough but gentle sounding voice.

Whirling around in his arms you point directly at the owner of the car. "Him," you announce as you begin to feel safe again for the first time since your tire blew.

For his part, the man has stopped roughly 10 feet from Buck and you. He gives you only a brief, angry glance before he locks eyes with Buck. Several long seconds pass as they seem to have an entire discussion without ever saying a word. A knot suddenly forms in your stomach as you see that fucking smirk start to tug at the man's lips again.

"Now now, angel," the man says as he refocuses on you, "leave the nice man alone and come with Daddy."

You almost **** as a hundred different responses fight to leave your mouth at the same time. Can he be serious? Does he really expect the mailman to believe that he's your FATHER?!

"This is your daughter?" Buck asks asks with a tone full of incredulity.

"No!" you squeak as the panic begins to return.

"'Fraid so," says the man with a sad shake of his head, "I'm afraid that she's a little..." his sentence trails off as he raises his hand and wiggles his fingers at his head; clearly implying that you're crazy.

"He's lying," you practically sob. "Please Buck", you continue, using his name to try to form a connection while you still can, "you've got to believe me!"

"I'm not and I can prove it," the man replies before Buck can respond. He steps back toward the car and reaches in. A moment later he holds your bra up for Buck to see. "She's always leaving her stuff all over," he says simply as he winks at you.

"It's mine," you say in exasperation, "but it's not like he says. He--"

"And," the man continues, interrupting you, "I've got her medication right here." You watch in horror as he presents a syringe full of some bright blue liquid. Where the hell did he pull that from? Who the fuck is this guy?

With an irritated sigh, Buck clamps his hands down on your shoulders. "I think I'm starting to get the picture," he says as he begins to step you forward.

What?! No! Can this guy really be that fucking stupid?! A bra and an unlabeled syringe of something blue is all that he needs to consider that story 'true'?! Doesn't the Post Office screen new applicants at all?!

"Hold her," the man commands as you begin to struggle in Buck's grip. You realize in an instant that it's already too late. The man is too close. If you broke away right now, he'd still be able to jab you with that needle.

"Okay okay okay..." you plead as you raise your hands in surrender. "I'm... I'm sorry... Please don't stick me with that... Dad." You resist the urge to vomit as you call this increasingly dangerous man 'Dad.' Even worse is the huge smile that spreads across his face as you seem to give up.

"Bring her over here, Buck," he says as he moves back to his car and opens the trunk.

"In the trunk?" Buck asks with a touch of concern.

"Yeah, I told you," he says as he makes the crazy sign again, "I don't want her to cause me an accident between here and home."

You begin to whimper in absolute panic as Buck shrugs and starts to help you into the trunk. "Oops, hold on a sec," the man says as he moves behind you. For a brief instant you dare to think that he's changed his mind; but with a quick motion he pulls your hands behind your back and with a cold, metallic snap you realize that you've just been placed in handcuffs.

"No," you gasp as the man proceeds to push you down into the foul smelling trunk of his car.

"Hey Buck," the man says as he hands him the syringe, "be a pal and put this on my passenger seat while I close the trunk here." As soon as Buck moves out out of sight, the man leans over your and you can feel him run his greasy, wet tongue up your cheek leaving a think, trail of saliva. "Mmm... you taste even better than you smell. Now you be good back here... or else." With that he slams the trunk closed and you are sealed in darkness.

You are going out of your mind in panic. How can one girl's luck be so bad?! How do you go from a blown tire to being locked in a madman's trunk?! As upset as you are already, what you hear next almost pushes you over the edge.

"Your daughter," Buck laughs, "I can't believe I kept a strait face when you said that! You are the man, Rod."

What?! They do know each other! Wow, good call Emily. Yup, you sure are doing well today. Clearly, everything is coming up Emily. :::::sigh:::::

A few more words are exchanged and then you hear the sound of the mail-truck driving away. With growing dread you hear the sound of 'Rod' circling the car outside.