“Well, I was going to slit your throat and force Ken here to stop the car. Then I was going to kill him and head back home so I can go to bed.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” I said simply.
He smiled, “I’m going to enjoy killing you.”
“It’s a little harder than you might think. Your buddy George tried, and it didn’t turn out so well for him.”
“Yeah well, I’m not George. I caught you didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did. The question is, can you keep me?”
“I won’t have to keep you for very long, but it doesn’t matter because you’re not going to make any more trouble for me. Do you want to know why? Because if you do anything but what I tell you to, I won’t kill you right away, first I’ll do things to that little girl that will make her cry out for death, and I’ll make sure you watch every agonizing second. Do you understand?”
I clenched my jaw in rage, knowing that it wasn’t a threat but a promise and he wouldn’t hesitate to follow through. We drove in silence for a few miles before Ken pulled off the highway onto a gravel road. We drove for another five minutes before the road turned into dirt and we bounced along and stopped in front of a house that was still under construction. A large portion of the roof was missing tiles, but it had four walls, and the windows were in. We got out of the truck, and I found myself at knifepoint once again. “Walk,” said Tony as he turned on a flashlight and I did exactly what he said. We walked up to the front door and, after finding it locked, Tony led me around to the side and pulled out my pistol. He aimed it at the window and fired off two shots, shattering the glass. “Climb inside and unlock the door,” he ordered. I started towards the window he added, “And remember you do anything and she’ll regret it.” I didn’t answer, I just began climbing through the broken window. Tony hadn’t cleared the sill of glass, and so I was forced to pick my way through the shards as I made it through the window and onto the counter. I cut my hands pretty bad, and I left a small trail of blood droplets as I made my way to the door. Unlocking it, the three made their way inside. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” I remained silent.
While we walked through the entrance, Michelle stood as close as she could to me and held onto my belt with one hand. We headed down a hallway where there were three doors, and Ken tried to pick up Michelle to put her in the bedroom. “No! No! James! James please. Help!” she began to cry again, grasping for my belt.
“It’ll be ok Michelle. You’ll be ok,” I started towards her but was held back by a knife to my throat.
“No!” she choked out before Ken literally tossed her into the room and slammed the door shut.
“You fucking asshole,” I said through clenched teeth. Her calls for help continued from behind the door, and I had to fight back tears of rage. I was angry at myself, I was angry at Tony and Ken, and I was terrified at the thought of what they might do to the scared girl behind that door.
They pushed me into the third room down the hall, and Tony sneered, “Don’t worry, you’ll get to say goodbye.” They shut the door, and I ran up to the door and put my ear against it. “Guard the door,” I heard Tony say, “I’m going to go find some food.”
“Where are you going to go, back to that house?”
“No.”
“Why not? It was easy to catch these two, we could get them to give us food.”
“No, we caught them off guard and had the girl to use as a bargaining chip. We don’t have that now.”
“But what about them? Can’t we use them?”
“I don’t want to push them. If they wanted to kill us they could, they have enough people.”
“Well, where are you going to go?”
“I don’t know yet. Just stay here.”
“Ok. Try and find some beer.”
“Anything else?” I heard Tony ask sarcastically “How about some fresh apple pie? Maybe a steak with mashed potatoes?”
“No thanks. Just the beer,” replied Ken, equally sarcastic.
“I’ll be back.”
“Alright, just hurry up.”
“Just keep your eyes on our friends. When I get back…” I didn’t hear what would happen when he got back because as they walked away, their voices grew quieter.
I walked the space of my room, which was almost pitch black by now, and figured out how much space I had to work with. I had to figure out a way I could get Michelle to safety. If I could get her to the highway, she could make her way back to the house. The route here was very easy to remember, and they hadn’t blindfolded us Mistake number one assholes, I thought. Actually, I changed my mind, that’s mistake number two. Mistake number one was coming after me, I thought grimly. I sat in the middle of the floor and watched the door. I could see the beam of a flashlight pan across the door from time to time, and I counted how long between each sweep, Ken checked on my door every ten minutes or so. I could hear soft crying from the room down the hall, and it made my blood boil. I would kill both of them and makes sure I got Michelle to safety, that’s all that mattered.
It only took Tony an hour or so to find some food and return to the house. Ken left his post to eat with Tony, and they spent a good hour doing whatever they were doing. I didn’t know what time it was, but I knew it was late, and Michelle had fallen asleep or at least stopped crying. When they opened my door Ken, and Tony found me sitting calmly in the middle of the floor, a small puddle of blood gathered in front of me. My hands hadn’t stopped bleeding, and the piece of sample carpet I had found to sit on was now soggy with my blood. They walked in without comment and turned on a few battery powered lamps, placing them around the room. Once the room was adequately lit, they stood over me without a word. I looked up and sneered sarcastically, “Evening boys. Is it time for a little fun?”
Tony sneered back and gestured to Ken, who walked behind me and hauled me to my feet. He cut my ties and held my arms behind my back, and I knew what he was going to do. Like all bullies, Ken was braver when he had a backup, and he was even braver when he had a little girl to use as a shield. Tony cocked back his arm and just before he made contact I tightened my stomach muscles to help deaden the pain. He wasn’t particularly strong, but I still let out a small grunt of pain. Tony’s sneer grew even wider, and he punched again. After the fifth punch he leaned in to whisper in my ear he must have found a bottle of whiskey and some beer because I could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Having fun yet?”
“Tons,” I coughed.
“Good, because this party is going to go on for a while.”
“Fantastic,” I said sarcastically.
They traded places, and Ken took his turn using me as a punching bag. He was quite a bit stronger than Tony, and if he hadn’t switched between my stomach and face, I would probably have received internal bleeding. I could feel the left side of my face begin to swell, and I tasted blood in my mouth. They switched again, and Tony raised my knife to my face, the lantern light reflecting off its smooth surface. He placed the tip of my knife to the side of my face, near my temple, and drew a thin line down the side of my face to my jawline. I could feel blood well up and begin flowing freely to join the puddle on the floor. I let out a small yell and hung my head once the cut had been made. “Still having fun?” I nodded, “Good like I said, this is going to last for a while.”
I felt Ken lean in, still holding my arms behind my back, and say, “And once we’re done with you, we’re going to have even more fun with the one down the hall.”
A red fog filled my brain as I snapped. “No!” I screamed with animalistic rage. I brought my foot down as hard as I could on the joint of Ken’s foot. He screamed and let go giving me the opportunity to push Tony away and turn to face Ken, who was advancing on me. I shot out a hand and jabbed stiffened fingers into his windpipe. He doubled over, and I brought both of my balled fists down onto his back. He dropped to a knee, and I raised my arms to do it again. There was no technique to what I was doing, there was n
o focus or style, just rage. I had forgotten about Tony who had only been distanced from me, not disabled. In the milliseconds between conscious thought and unconsciousness, I was able to curse my stupidity as I realized my mistake and Tony used my own gun to knock me out.
Chapter 12
When I awoke I was face down with my hands bound again, my face throbbed, and my stomach felt like it got smashed with a sledgehammer. My head was on fire, and someone had hammered nails into the backs of my eyes. Ignoring my body’s protests, I was able to struggle to my knees, and I felt the dried blood crack as I let out a gasp of pain. With a few stumbling steps I made it to my feet, and my breath hitched as I realized I had at least a few crack ribs. I couldn’t take a full breath without gasping in pain, but I steadied myself and assessed the rest of the damage. I was pretty beaten up, but the good thing was that I wasn’t exhibiting any signs of a concussion so I could still function, I could still fight. I slipped to fingers of my right hand into my pocket and gave a sigh of relief, “It’s not broken.” I very carefully drew out a shard of broken glass from my pocket. When Tony had forced me through the window to open the door, he had given me a few seconds to act on a future escape. I had snatched up one of the pieces of glass and slipped it into my pocket. I had sliced up my hands when I hastily grabbed the piece and had been very careful not to break it since then. I was afraid that I might have broken it when I was knocked out but against all odds it had remained intact. I began to slowly saw the plastic holding my wrists together, wincing as the glass cut into my hands more than it did the plastic, but I kept going. Back and forth, back and forth, drawing fresh blood with each pass. I sawed for a long time until I heard heavy footstep coming down the hall and I quickly palmed the shard and sat on the large blood spot on the ground.
The pair walked in holding a lantern and grinning, “Ready for round two?” asked Tony. “You better be, because Ken here is ready for a little payback,” I glanced at Ken and grinned when I saw a large bruise on his neck and heard his semi-ragged breathing.
“How’s the back?” I asked sarcastically.
“You little…” Ken wheezed as he tried to force his way past Tony.
“Just wait a second there Ken,” said Tony, “You have plenty of time to play. You should be thanking me you know, he wanted to kill you while you were out. I convinced him that waiting until you woke up would be more fun.” He walked over to where I stood and grabbed me by the throat. Hauling me to my feet he shoved me against the wall and placed my blade near the first cut he made earlier, he cut a parallel line down to my jawbone. Unlike last time I refused to make a single noise while he made the cut. My silence only made him angrier, and he looked like he was going to yell or cut me again, but I could see in his eyes that a thought just crossed his mind. Holding the knife under my chin, he turned to Ken and said, “He doesn’t want to scream. Go get the girl, I bet we can get a scream out of her.” Ken grinned and left. Tony turned back and whispered, “I’m going to get a scream out of one of you before you die. And after I get my scream and after you die, I’m going to have some fun with your little girl.” As if on cue I heard a scream come from down the hall. Tony turned to look towards the door and without thinking I used my left elbow to raise his knife arm up while I tilted my head back, effectively clearing the knife from my face. At the same time, I drove hands up and into Tony’s jaw, snapping his head back and causing him to yell, and drove a knee into his groin, dropping him like a rag doll.
The knife flew into the darkness, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to find it before Ken returned, so I slammed my hands in a downward arch and snapped the partially cut zip tie, winced as it bit into my raw wrists one last time and readied my glass shiv. I ran to the door and pressed my back against the wall, clenching my weapon and waiting for Ken to appear any second. I was sure that he would have heard Tony’s yell and come running. Ken appeared in the doorway with a lantern and his knife in hand. Luckily he had left Michelle in her room, and I wouldn’t have to worry about her getting hurt. He paused in the doorway, and I struck, aiming for his throat. Unfortunately, the glass was slick with my blood, and I wasn’t able to make a deep enough cut, all I seemed to do was make him angry. Dropping his lantern, he roared as he placed his hand over the ragged, bleeding cut and came at me with his knife. The glass shard was more useful against my own unprotected hand than it was against Ken, so I threw it to the side and prepared to fight for my life, again. It was clear he wasn’t used to fighting with a knife because he jabbed at me like he was trying to pop a balloon. I used my arms to knock his strikes away and countered with quick hits to his abdomen, chest, and face. I don’t know if either of us had an advantage in the fight, I was tired, bleeding and injured, but I knew how to fight. Ken was relatively rested and unhurt but didn’t seem to know a lot about close combat. Ken was fighting for his life, but I was fighting for two. He came at me with a wide sideswipe, and I caught his wrist, twisting it and bringing my elbow down onto his elbow joint, breaking his arm and forcing him to drop the knife. Once inside his guard, I hooked my leg behind his and forced him to the ground. I followed him down and landed on his chest. With one broken arm, he was unable to block any of my punches as they rained down on him. I let my rage out on Ken, turning his face into something that resembled ground beef. I felt no guilt over the pain I caused him, this was the man who was going to take pleasure in hurting a little girl, and he deserved every single blow. I stood, panting, and reached for the fallen knife. Still breathing heavy I took a knee and slit Ken’s throat, letting his blood pool on the floor. I stood, let the knife slip from my hands and took a deep breath to call for Michelle. Before I could even get the beginning of her name out of my mouth, I felt something hard press up against the back of my head and heard a familiar noise, the sound of a slide being pulled back. I guess I forgot that I had only disabled Tony, not killed him. He must have decided to use a gun, my gun. I whipped around pushing the gun away from my head and punching him in the nose. Tony squeezed off a shot as the gun travel away from me, and I heard a scream come from Michelle. I ignored ringing in my ear and twisted Tony’s wrist. The gun dropped, and I kicked it away, letting it slide into the darkness. I would have liked to have it back in my hands, but it was best to have it far away from Tony. I fainted like I was going to knee him in the groin again and the fear from the previous blow was enough for him to throw up his complete guard against the blow. Instead of following through with the attack I brought both hands against the side of his head and boxed his ear. He covered his ears and screamed in pain as his eardrums were ruptured. Rotating around, I brought my leg up and kicked him the sternum, putting all my weight into the kick. He flew back, and I stood there clutching my side, that kick had really hurt, and I hoped that I hadn’t broken one of my cracked ribs. That could lead to some internal bleeding or a punctured lung, and that was something I couldn’t really overcome.
I saw Tony’s shadowed figure rise from the ground and I was momentarily impressed. He was shorter than me, thinner than me but he was a scrappy fucker. I heard a ragged laugh come from the darkness as I saw the shadow bend down slowly to pick something up. I heard the ringing sound of a blade scratching against a solid surface. “Ah, fuck me,” I said panting, he had found the discarded knife. He came at me slowly, and I was as ready for him as I would ever be. He ran at me with the knife in a suicide run. The knife was clenched in his hand pointed down, allowing for a strong downward stab but it would slow him down. He brought the knife down, and I blocked with my right forearm, with my left I landed a solid punch to the nerve bundle near his armpit. He dropped the knife, and I pushed him away from where it fell. His right arm would be tingling, and he wouldn’t be able to hold anything or even make a fist, so that left him with his left. He threw a wild punch, and I saw my opportunity to end the fight. Knocking away the punch with my right I got him in a headlock with my left, bent over at the waist, his head held under my armpit. Before he could take a swing at my side, I used my slight adv
antage in height and strength to separate the top vertebras of his spine, breaking his neck with an echoing crunch. I let his body drop and fell painfully to a knee. Taking a second to catch my breath I looked down at my shaking, bleeding hands. They trembled with pain, adrenaline, and anger. Gritting my teeth, I clenched them tightly to try and get them to settle. I was completely drained, but I wasn’t done yet. I stumbled over to where the lantern lay on its side and cast the light around the room until I found both my Bowie and my pistol and, after placing them in their respective holsters, exited the room.
Out in the hallway, they had secured Michelle’s room with a piece of rope tied to two the door handles so the door couldn’t swing inward. I cut the rope, opened the door and was greeted by a small whimper. I didn’t know whether it was because she didn’t know who I was or if it was because I was covered in blood, but I said in what I hoped was a reassuring voice, “Michelle? Come here honey, it’s just me, James.” Once she heard the sound of my voice, she rushed to me and grasped me around the waist, crying. With a grunt of pain I knelt down and brushed tears from her cheek, replacing them with bloody streaks, “Hey, I told you everything’s ok. Come on, let’s go home.” We took a few steps, and she moaned in pain, I glanced down and saw that her bare feet were bleeding again, leaving small red footprints on the unfinished floor. “Come here, let me carry you,” I said picking her up. I was sweaty, dirty and covered in my own blood but she didn’t complain. As I walked down the unfinished road, I did my best to avoid any grunts or sighs of pain. I didn’t want Michelle to know how bad I was hurt or how much carrying her was hurting my ribs. We walked down the road and screamed out in joy in my head when reached the highway. I guess getting to an open area like the highway or just being away from the house calmed Michelle because she fell asleep on the walk back. As I took each step, I cursed myself for not checking the dead men for the keys to their truck. I was too tired to think clearly, and all I wanted was to get Michelle home.
Survivors Series (Book 2): Heroes Never Die Page 14