Ensnared

by I N Foggarty

  Pushing any misgivings or reservations he had about the situation aside, Ramone descended the stairs and entered the living quarters. It was no exaggeration to say that he felt relieved not to find Roca on the floor with the red-haired bitch standing over his corpse.

  “Take her up and do exactly what he says,” Ramone said firmly, pointing a finger at the ginger-haired girl. “Don’t shout at him or swear or do anything to fucking blow this. In fact, just try and keep your mouth shut.”

  “Aye, aye cap’n fancy talk,” Roca replied mockingly.

  The big man seized hold of the girl and shoved her towards the door; she screamed. Across the room, he could see that the noise had intensified the other bitch’s efforts to escape. “Don’t worry It’ll be your turn next,” he spat, though his tone lacked malice. No matter which way he looked at it, he could still not shift the feelings of resentment he held for his own actions. There was no other choice he told himself.

  Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty. By thirty, Ramone could feel the sweat beading on then rolling down his forehead. He had just pondered getting to his feet when Roca poked his head back through the door.

  “Apparently ginger’s cherry hasn’t been popped,” the man laughed. “You should have seen her squirming when he touched her.”

  Ramone felt a flash of anger towards the man. She’s only sixteen he nearly yelled before stopping himself. Roca may have been a pig but this situation was of his own making. Unfortunately, they had long since passed the point of no return. “Did he say anything?”

  “He said he might be able to find a use for her after all and to bring the other one up.”

  Shaking and in dire need of a smoke, Ramone took hold of the red-haired girl's arm. Anna, some part of his brain recalled her telling him. No, he could not think of her in that way. Violently she thrust a heel backwards, narrowly missing his balls. Pushing her forward he found a threat die on his lips. What was about to happen to her he did not know for sure but could hazard a guess so he let it go.

  The short trip from the living quarters up the stairs felt like the longest journey of Ramone’s life. By the time his foot had hit the bottom stair, the headache Jasper had prophesied began to rear itself. He could only hope that the life he hoped to buy would be worth it. For he was selling his own soul in order to obtain it. May the old preacher's god help him.

  Long story short

  Grassy fields and lush trees passed by the open window as the sun continued to rise overhead. His head almost hanging outside the truck like a dog, Dylan lapped up the fresh air. His host had been unable to provide him with any form of refreshment so for now, it would have to do. Still, given the speed at which they were travelling it would hopefully not take long for them to reach some form of aid. Apparently, the driver considered the speed limit to be more of a guideline than an actual law. In the background, the truck's radio had been pumping out hard rock songs since he had been picked up.

  “Not far now, Kid,” the man said in a boisterous manner while he twiddled one of the stereos knobs to improve the reception. “Though remember to go easy on the hooch. Next time you might not come across someone so accommodating. You get a lot of weirdos… hear a lot of stories about men in vans picking up teenagers. Not just girls mind!”

  Dylan gave him a weak smile. After deducing that the man’s phone was dead he had not bothered to explain the situation. Instead, choosing to let the man continue to believe his own story about him having been drunk and walked for miles up the highway before collapsing. At least when he got to his destination he would have settled down enough to explain the situation in a calm, logical manner. The current track began to fade out and the voice of the radio DJ boomed, causing his heart to sink.

  “Good Morning Illinois and what a lovely Thursday morning it is. I’m Mikey Michelson and with the weekend fast approaching let's catch up on this week’s top stories...”

  Thursday! He had been certain that the day Anna had helped him escape had been Tuesday. Had he lost an entire day during his two periods of unconsciousness? If so then it was even more imperative that he find help as soon as possible. Anna had not looked well and if their captors had done nothing she could be a hundred times worse by now. Unfortunately, the bad news did not end there.

  “…And we have today learned of a new twist in the Rodgers disappearance case. Remember folks that earlier this week we brought you news that the police were investigating the disappearance of Dylan Rodgers, son of Chicago businessman William Montague ‘Monty’ Rodgers, who was reported missing on Monday by his housekeeper.”

  Dylan froze on hearing his own name spoken by the DJ. It should not have come as a surprise that his kidnapping had made it into the media in some way shape or form. However, it still made his skin crawl.

  “Anyway in what appears to be a bizarre coincidence we have learned that Rodgers senior has been called in for questioning by the FBI. However, this is believed to be in relation to some business deals between Blue Wire Electricals, a one-time subsidiary of Mr Rodgers own company, WMR Electronics, and a firm in Mexico that was recently outed as a front for a black market cartel…”

  Had he been driving Dylan would have just slammed on the brakes. His father being questioned by the FBI over dealings with a Mexican Cartel? He did not know which part shocked him more. That his father had potentially been involved in black market dealings or that it just so happened to have been with a group in Mexico. As pieces of the puzzle slowly began to slot into place the truck stopped.

  “Here we are, Kid. Be safe and remember to lay off the hard stuff. Don’t wanna turn out like that Rodgers kid. Call your folks, ok?” When Dylan failed to respond the man gave him a light punch in the arm. “Hey, Kid.” He gave the man a blank look. “This is your stop.”

  “Thanks,” Dylan murmured, shaking his head. In a not dissimilar manner to one of the many robots in one of his beloved Sci-fi shows, he unfastened his seatbelt, opened the door and climbed out.

  “Don’t mention it, Kid. Hopefully, I don’t see you around.”

  The man winked at Dylan when he shut the door and took off before even had the chance to hear the locking mechanism click. His mind racing he took a breath and tried to shove all thoughts about his father and his business deals to one side. He had a job to do and if his suspicions were correct, he owed it to Anna to get her out of the mess they were in.

  Glancing around the L-shaped motel his eyes passed over a parked motorcycle that bore a striking resemblance to Mark’s and a figure walking from a standalone building with the word… He never got the chance to read it as his brain finally interpreted what his eyes had just seen…

  “MATT!” he yelled in amazement.

  In front of him, the other boy turned to look at him, bearing an expression as if he had just seen a ghost. “Dylan? What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same question,” Dylan replied.

  “It’s a long story,” they said in unison.

  Matt looked him up and down. “You look like hell.”

  Dylan let out a small laugh. “For what it’s worth I feel like hell squared.” Only when the momentary shock wore off did he notice his friend’s attire. Glancing he looked at the parked bike. “How on earth did you get Mark to part with his bike?”

  “I told him I needed it to go after Anna.” Matt’s features then turned hard. “Where is she, Dylan?”

  Anna, Dylan thought, his state of euphoria imploding in on itself. “Matt she’s in trouble,” he said frantically. “She helped me escape but they still have her. I think she’s really sick.”

  “What!”

  Dylan sucked in a slow breath. “Anna helped me escape. She got me outside but said she was about to pass out so stayed behind to buy me some time.” The other boy looked at him in horror. “I think she’s really sick, Matt. She had a high fever and looked awful just before she broke me out. The guys who have her are bad news and…and…” and what? A hollow laugh echoed inside him. Wa
s he really going to add ‘and I think it might be my father’s fault’? Fortunately, he did not need to finish.

  “We have to help her,” Matt said firmly, his face hardening once more. “Can you take me to where they have her? There should only be two of them, right? A Ramone Gonzalez and someone else.”

  Dylan looked at his friend dumbstruck. “How the hell do you know that?” He would have to remember to get the full story after this was all over.

  “Someone saw the pair of you being taken. They got the number plate of the van and we used it to track down the kidnappers to somewhere in this area.” Matt must have seen the look of utter confusion spread across his face for he added. “Like I said, long story. I’ll explain everything later. Right now we need to save Anna.”

  Dylan had never heard Matt sound so determined before. Had the events of the past week been enough to instil it in him or had he simply just not paid that trait any attention before? “Right. We need to call the police.”

  “No,” Matt’s tone caused him to recoil slightly. What did his friend mean by no? “The police don’t give a shit about Anna. No one does.” The look on his friend's face told Dylan he was deadly serious. “Besides even if they did listen it would take the CPD hours to get out here.”

  “What about your sister,” Dylan said quickly. “Surely Janine will listen to you.”

  “Don’t you think I already tried that? Besides, do you seriously think my parents have any idea where I am right now?”

  Dylan stared at his best friend. Never before had he considered Matt dangerous. But the look on his face made him reconsider. “Matt, this is crazy. These men are dangerous. I really think…”

  “I can handle it,” Matt cut in. He then locked his gaze onto Dylan’s and in a cold emotionless tone worthy of Anna said, “I know what you did, Dylan. I know everything. You owe me this.”

  Dylan’s mouth hung open but no words came out. After everything that had happened, he had completely forgotten about his part in the lead-up. He might not have had anything to do with the kidnapping itself, besides being his father’s son, but it had been his actions that had led to Anna being with him almost one week ago.

  “Matt I’m…”

  “No,” Matt cut in harshly. “You don’t get to say sorry. Not until we save Anna. Then you can apologise to her too. But it will never be enough, Dylan. I’m not sure I can ever forgive you for this.”

  Dylan had never known Matt to sound angry. He didn’t have it in him, or at least so he had thought. Could his best friend have changed that much in the space of a week? It certainly seemed that way. Sighing, Dylan found that he could not meet the other boy's gaze. Though it went against his better judgement, not to mention the fact that it was downright insane, there appeared to be only one option open to him in order to salvage something of their friendship.

  “Ok,” he eventually said in a defeated tone. “I’ll take you there. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Then let’s go,” Matt replied stiffly. Turning his friend started to head towards Mark’s parked motorcycle. “Anna and I might only break your legs.”

  For the first time, Dylan could not tell if his friend was joking or not. Helplessly he followed him over to the waiting motorcycle. On approach, he could see that Mark had bolted on his aunt’s old sidecar. If he remembered correctly, the bike had once belonged to her too. In front of him, Matt lifted the seat and handed Dylan the spare crash helmet. It only took one look to remind him of the one and only time he had taken Mark up on the offer of a ride. Never again, he had sworn to himself after he had eventually been allowed to dismount and vomit. Mark was an insane driver with reflexes on the road that made those Dylan had with a gamepad look sluggish.

  “Here,” Matt then said, the coldness gone from his tone. “You look like you could use these.”

  Dylan took the bottle of water and oat bar his friend held out and without breaking breath poured half the contents down his throat. He did not care that it was warm. Tearing open the oat bar he devoured it in two bites; he had never known health food to taste so good.

  “Did they starve you?”

  “I haven’t eaten or drank anything for at least a day and a half,” Dylan replied before draining the water bottle. “I also fell off a roof and then had to walk half the night.” He turned to show Matt the back of his head.

  “That’s rough,” Matt replied, starting the engine. “I was forced to endure a lap dance, put up with a drunkards wit, run for my life and got shot.”

  “What!” Dylan exclaimed though it sounded more like ‘wahhh’, for he had pulled the bike helmet over his head at the same time. Buckling it, he looked across at Matt. Even behind the visor, he could tell his friends face held a smile.

  “It’s a long story,” they both said in unison.

  Then Matt added. “You’ll be better in the sidecar. Besides, it's traditional that the damsel ride behind the hero.”

  Dylan shook his head but did so anyway. It would probably be the one and only time Anna would ever be referred to… He paused mid-thought, Chloe!

  “MATT!” he called out over the sound of the revving engine.

  “WHAT?” the other boy replied as he guided the bike out of the parking bay.

  “THEY HAVE ANOTHER GIRL.”

  “THEN WE’LL JUST HAVE TO SAVE HER TOO,” Matt replied on reaching the highway. “NOW, WHICH WAY AM I GOING?”

  “RIGHT!”

  Matt guided the bike out onto the empty highway and Dylan felt a wave of panic wash over him. He had only just managed to escape from his kidnappers, going back without the police felt like suicide. However, he could do nothing about it now. Matt was in control.

  The visitor

  The cold stone sent a chill up Anna’s nylon-covered leg as she was forced from the coarse carpeted living area and out into the hall. However, whether the chill came from the sudden change in temperature or from the growing feeling of foreboding she would never be certain. A waft of cool air made her shiver again, a motion that came from her feet to her head and back down again. Behind her, somewhere, she could hear a cruel laugh from the bigger goon and feel her panic growing. Uselessly she pulled again at the rough rope that bound her hands behind her back. A sharp burning sensation caused her to stop but the feeling did not go away, too late she realised that her struggling had made the rope tighten and cut into her wrists in her futile attempts to reach the knots. A similar sensation, though not quite so sharp, across her face told her that the scrap of rope holding her bandana between her teeth had also started to chafe. A firm hand shoved her towards what she knew would be the stairs, her foot struck the bottom step and she staggered slightly.

  This was not supposed to have happened she thought, an unfamiliar wave of pure panic sweeping over her. Her eyes roved across the darkness of the blindfold hoping for something to calm her and finding none. With the amount of time she suspected had passed since freeing Dylan, he should have been able to find some way of contacting the authorities by now. What could possibly be taking him so long? A hollow laugh echoed inside her. Did you really expect Dylan to come through for you? That asshole had probably high tailed it and never bothered to look back over his shoulder. Though had there been any alternative… That did not matter now. She was on her own and the odds were increasingly stacking up against her.

  Her body on autopilot she ascended the stairs relying on the goon called Rae to guide her. She could tell it were him even with the blindfold on, his heavy breathing and the smell of stale smoke being unmistakable. After what seemed like an age of climbing, each step causing her heart to pound more and more furiously, she moved her leg to step up again and found only air. She had reached the top. She stumbled slightly causing the gruff mouth breather that held her to grab at her bonds and haul on them to keep her upright. Taking the opportunity Anna kicked her other heel out behind her blindly and felt a surge of elation when she caught him in what she suspected must have been his groin. Rae let out a howl a
nd involuntarily released her. She stumbled forward a step or so.

  Regaining her balance Anna immediately tried to dart off in what she could only hope would be away from her captors, the blindfold disorientating her more than she was willing to admit. She hadn’t gone more than a shaky handful of steps when something seized her hair in a firm grip and pulled her head backwards. Struggling, she pulled forwards with all her strength trying to dislodge the weight. Adrenaline pumped through her body causing her to shiver again and her breaths to come in short gasps. She froze, her blood seemingly turning to ice as the unmistakable barrel of a gun nestled itself in the centre of her back, the grip on her hair loosened but she could feel her captors breath beside her ear; the smell of tobacco almost overpowering. A deep growl emanated from him and she knew a string of curses were imminent only…

  “I would strongly advise against your current course of action. Now if we could have some decorum, please. It would be a shame for events to turn sour at this point.”

  Anna shivered when he spoke. ‘Decorum? Events to turn sour?’ What sort of man was this? Her heart fluttered feebly with an answer, stupid question; she could imagine perfectly what sort of man had spoken. The thought of him and the slightly chilly undertones made her sick to her stomach. Dread slowly began to replace the panic she had felt coming up the stairs. She could not see his face, however, the stern look that her mind conjured up was bad enough. The voice, much closer now spoke again.

  “Now then, let’s have a look at you.”

  From somewhere to her right she could hear the cruel laughter of Roca. “Bitch don’t want to come out to play eh, Rae.”

  Desperation flooded Anna and with all her might, she thrust her head backwards, catching Rae square in the chest. With a curse, the man’s hand sprang open and abandoning all thoughts of reason, she ran. Heart hammering Anna darted forwards. Only she never managed more than four steps before colliding with something that felt like a brick wall yet at the same time both warm and soft to the touch. Struggling furiously she tried to disentangle herself only for a pair of firm, iron-like arms to wrap themselves around her waist and upper torso like she was being pulled into a hug. The idea made her retch and her stomach took the opportunity to dispose of the horrible soup from breakfast.