by Willow Dean
With them all stowed away in my case carefully, I go to move away when a picture frame on the bedside table catches my eye.
Encased in a dark oak frame, are my parents. Wrapped up in each other’s arms, they stand proudly, staring back at me with love and happiness. Carefully, I fold down the props on the back and pack it away in between my clothes.
Deciding that I can come back later for the rest, I make my way downstairs. My last stop being the living room. That’s where the safe is kept and I guess now, everything in it is mine.
My parents refused to tell me what was in, yet they trusted me enough to give me all the codes in case something ever happened to them.
I guess they were right to be so prepared. The idea of them planning so far ahead causes my stomach to churn. Life is so unfair. I guess you don’t ever really know what the future will bring.
Opening the door to the living room, the case drops from my hand and lands with a loud thunk.
Yet, the sound barely registers as I stumble into the room and collapse to my knees.
25 Mila
Rest assured Little Phoenix, I will find you and when I do, we shall enjoy our alone time. Together.
The sight of blood smeared across the wall sends me dizzy as my heart thumps erratically in my chest.
I’m on my feet within seconds, scanning my surroundings and double-checking each corner of the room to make sure no one is hiding in any of the shadows. Nothing.
My vision goes red as rage takes place of the overwhelming dread that the scrawled words invoked.
He’s been here. He knows where we lived. How? How was he able to get in and when? Before or after we were attacked?
Seeking out the picture the safe is hidden behind, I don’t waste any more time. The blood doesn’t look fresh, but there’s no chance in hell I am waiting around to find out whether he’s near or not.
I’m not strong enough to face him. Not yet. I need to retrieve the safe and get out as fast as possible.
Entering the number correctly, the outer door of the safe opens to reveal the true smaller safe inside. Even if you knew which picture it’s behind, it’s magnetized on the inside so you can’t remove the safe unless the correct code is inputted.
My parents were adamant about protections on top of protections. Backup plans for backup plans…yada, yada, yada.
Now I see why.
Entering the number carefully, the safe demagnetizes itself, allowing me to remove it easily.
Finally, I get to actually find out what was so important that it needed so many security details.
As I turn to leave, a fist flies out of nowhere. Whoever’s behind it is slow enough to give me enough time to drop and roll to avoid being hit, covering the safe as I do.
Damn it!
I was too focused on thinking about what was in the safe to pay enough attention to my surroundings like I should have been.
Dad’s voice magically emerges from the ether to scold me. “You should know better, Mila. Always be aware of your surroundings. Don’t let your emotions get the better of you. Focus. Assess. Analyze. React.”
I curse.
What do you think I’m trying to do, Dad?! Get out of my head and let me concentrate!
Glancing around the room, three gigantic guys spread out in a line in front of me. Two in front of the sofa and one behind. Of course, the sofa just so happens to be placed directly in front of the only exit.
Being the only thing in between my exit and me, I curse my idiocy. With my back half to the windows and half to the fireplace, I’m stuck.
Unless I want to become a glass jumper or reverse Santa, I don’t really have any other options but to stand my ground and hope for the best.
I’m beginning to think that asking the guys to stay out in the car was a terrible idea. Of course something bad would happen the one time they decide to let me off my leash. Go figure.
All three of them are clad in black combat fatigues and unarmed except for a pair of metal cuffs, a baton at each hip and a pistol. If they’re packing anything else then they sure are concealing it well.
Clearly the universe hates me and has decided to give them at least a smattering of brains as each of them places themselves strategically, minimizing my chance of escape.
Why can’t it be like in the films and books where the bad guys are always complete dumbasses?!
I catalog each of their appearances out of habit. Hyper-vigilance is a bitch sometimes.
Each one has a military style haircut that frames a face littered with various scars, both old and new. The biggest of the three, the one with sandy colored hair and gunmetal lip ring, stands directly in front of the door. Completely blocking it with his huge frame.
Thing one and Thing two stand at the same height as Blondie, but are nowhere near as stacked as he is. Both of them have bronzed skin and dark brown hair, so similar in appearance that they could be twins.
Positioning themselves so they frame the sofa, they cut off any chances of me bypassing them to reach the door, where I’ll most definitely be stopped by Blondie anyway.
The only other exit point is the windows, but if I go that way, I risk significant injury.
Glass jumping is a last resort. Gotcha!
My only other option is to stall for time until the guys come looking for me. Stupidly, I didn’t keep track of how long I’ve been in here, so I have no idea how long until they are due to head in. Thank goodness Rick pushed for seven.
Either way, it shouldn’t be too long before they arrive. If they haven’t already been taken out by these guys that is.
No.
The men in front of me would have come in the back way to make sure they remained unnoticed. They wouldn’t have risked confrontation. A quick in and out job is all they are equipped for.
Maybe I could smash the window to attract attention, but then that puts whoever responds in danger too.
Nope, that’s not gonna work. That would only serve to expose my back and make me vulnerable to-
Stop with the doomsday thoughts bitch and think!
You team wouldn’t go down that easily. Plus, there are only three attackers and there are five of you, six including your pussy ass.
The guys will be fine, you just need to focus on yourself.
Forcing my body to relax, I take a steadying breath and assess my surroundings, running my eyes over everything in the room.
Stall for time or attract attention?
Choices, choices. Think, Mila, what do you know?
Three armed assailants. No weapons. No safe exit through the door, which leaves just the window.
Tilting my head slightly, I direct my gaze towards the window. I barely even get a snapshot of the outside world before it’s cut off by a dark shadow. A fourth figure materializing out of nowhere.
I groan. Cursing my complete incompetence and hesitation, I can’t help but roll my eyes at my own stupidity.
Like I didn’t already have enough to contend with?!
He’s even bigger than the guy blocking the door! His bald head shines like a beacon as a sadistic smile stretches across his face.
All thoughts of making it to the window and trying to smash through it, literally go out the window when they advance forward, closing in around me. Almost in sync, they practically eat up the distance between us as my eyes dart around like a cornered animal.
My thoughts drift to the safe. Yeah, I have it in my hand, but I’m not willing to throw that out onto the front yard where anyone can grab at it whilst I fight for my life. Which leaves me with no other choice but to try and fight my way out.
Oh the joy!
Resigning myself to my fate, I sigh when I realise it’s going to be even more difficult to fight whilst trying to protect the safe. It’s going to be tough, but I’m not willing to part with it for anything.
I don’t know whether they are here for me, for the safe, or both. I don’t even know who they are!
For all I know, it could
be someone completely different from whoever Meat Man associates with. Well, guess what…
Whoever they are. Whatever they are here for. They ain’t getting it.
Simple.
Grinning sadistically at the prospect of a good fight, my muscles tense as adrenaline floods my system. Maybe this is just what I need to get my head back on straight. Nothing like a good pounding to sort out those anger issues.
Rotating my neck, I make it look as though I’m stretching out as I scout the room for a weapon.
The only thing remotely usable is the curtain rail, which is useless unless I have two hands free. A poker sits propped against the mantel place, but with them closing ranks on me, I won’t be able to get anywhere near it.
No escape route. No chance of distraction. No weapons. Brilliant. You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Mila!
The three amigos lunge towards me together, giving me barely any time to process or come up with even a semblance of a plan. Dropping my shoulder, I switch the safe to my left arm as I slam my fist into Blondie’s face.
The sharp crack and crunch, accompanied by a loud thud as his body hits the floor, is extremely satisfying. The other two hesitate as they see how easily my fist took him down.
Baldie has no such qualms.
Taking full advantage of my momentary distraction, he tries to charge me from behind. I manage to duck to the side just before his punch sails over my head less than a hair’s breadth away from me.
Gripping his hand, I pull him into my back and lift my hips, throwing him over my shoulder and straight into the glass coffee table which breaks easily under his weight.
Oh boy, he’s heavy!
Rotating my arm to ease the strain his heavy ass placed on my shoulder, I back away from them. Thing one and Thing two seem to be waiting for their friends to pick themselves up off the floor. Neither of them move an inch, keeping me firmly in their sights.
I wait to see what they plan to do as I slowly circle my way around the sofa.
They made a huge mistake by all lunging towards me at the same time. Blondie had to come around in front of the sofa to try and cut me off, opening up a beautifully clean path for me straight towards the doorway. Right where I need to be.
Maybe they weren’t as clever as I thought, after all.
Inching my way towards the door, I make odd movements every now and again, hoping to disguise my advances. Only slightly out of breath, I feel a sort of exhilaration flowing through my veins.
Finally, I’m able to do something about the rage I’ve been living with, and it feels liberating. Empowering. Fun.
With a malicious smile, I glance towards the two that remain standing as the other two on the floor start to pick themselves up. Shaking their heads, they stumble slightly when they try to right themselves.
All the while, I keep moving. One step at a time.
I eventually manage to put the sofa fully between us with the door to my back. They sure are slow to catch on, but it’s obvious when they do.
Baldie's eyes widen when he realizes what my plan is, lighting up with something akin to fear. Huh. What a strange emotion when the circumstances are in their favor.
“She’s going to run!” He hollers as he dives towards the sofa.
Springing into action, I kick the back of the sofa, catapulting it forward with such force that it takes Baldie’s feet out from underneath him. Hopefully, that’ll stall the others a little too.
Forgetting my case, I race down the hall and manage to open the front door just as an arm wraps around my throat and drags me back.
In a moment of desperation, I launch the safe out of the open door in the hopes that the guys will see it, or at least hear it, and come to my rescue. If, they aren’t already indisposed that is.
It can’t be long now before they were planning to head in anyway. I just need to run interference a little longer.
I don’t even get the chance to see whether the safe makes it over the threshold or not, far too busy being choked to death as his arm tightens around my throat. Whoever it is may have me in their grasp, but their technique is piss poor.
Turning my head into the crook of his arm, I thrust my elbow back into his stomach and throw my head back. Hot liquid drips down the back of my neck, letting me know I got a solid connection.
I hope he’s not too concerned about his looks, because I’m pretty sure I just smashed his nose up good and proper. Not that any of them had any good looks to mess up in the first place. They are all butt ugly.
Credo to him though, he maintains his grip even after my assault. That is, until I stamp down on his instep and throw him over my shoulder. Landing on his back, he grunts and gasps as the air leaves his lungs in a rush.
I don’t have time to bathe in my success though as a sharp, jolting sensation hits me square between the shoulder blades. My body convulses as I try to shout out in pain, but it’s no use.
Did he just taser me?!
Whatever he attacked me with has frozen my vocal cords and practically severed the connection between my brain and bodily function. My muscles seize as I crash to the floor in a twitching heap.
On the bright side, at least I didn’t void myself!
I still can’t move an inch when my arm is wrenched behind me in a painful hold. A heavy weight drops onto my back as some of the sensation comes back into my limbs, yet my muscles still remain locked and unmoving.
“Hugo said you’d be a difficult one. Good thing we came prepared,” he sneers, taking a hand off me to remove something from the belt around his waist.
Who the fudge is Hugo?!
“Guess what these are?” He dangles a pair of metal cuffs in front of my face.
As if I would know anything about what they are?! They could be BDSM gear for all I know! I shudder.
On second thought, let’s not go down that route.
About two inches wide and one inch thick, the letters ‘A.M.R’ are engraved on the inside in cursive. Although the cuffs are pretty hard to ignore, it’s the tattoo lying just over his pulse point on his right wrist that catches my attention.
A snake entwines itself around the shank of an anchor, with the same initials as on the cuffs embellished in cursive across the stock.
Where the ring usually resides, at the top of the anchor, is an intricate compass that has directional measures that have been replaced with roman numerals. Reading ‘IV – I – I – IV’, north to west respectively.
The sound of his whiny, nasally voice pulls me back to his drawling monologue that I have absolutely zero interest in hearing.
“It’s a fun little invention of his,” he says distractedly, rolling them around in his hand, inspecting them. “Fifty-thousand volts delivered by the click of a button, the same voltage as a standard taser. Double what I just hit you with.”
Seriously, what is it with bad guys explaining literally everything about their evil plans and what they’re going to do to you?!
Maybe I was wrong about the whole ‘it only happens in films’ idea before. This guy is a complete buffoon.
Bad guys would be so much more successful if they just learnt to keep their traps shut and didn’t boast about their toys. It’s super annoying!
But hey, it gives the guys time to come in and save me. I’m not complaining. Kind of.
Carry on good sir, I beg of you. Even if my ears are bleeding.
He continues to chitter away for what feels like hours, his voice fading into the background as I concentrate on trying to get some feeling back into my body.
Having had just about enough as I can take of his grating voice, I grit my teeth and attempt to speak through the spasms that still tear through my body.
“Did you know. It’s. The current that kills you. No- Not the voltage?” Spots flash across my vision as the motherfucker elbows me in the temple, causing my voice to come out slurred. “Someone clearly doesn’t like science lessons,” I taunt.
“You can tell me whether you like sc
ience lessons or not after I put these on you. You insufferable bitch,” he hisses.
Oopsie. Way to go, Mila. Piss of the bad guy who is currently holding a fun looking torture device.
Wrenching my other hand behind my back, he snaps the cuffs on my wrists and jumps off me.
Ceasing the opportunity, I try to get to my feet and bolt out of the door, but he hits the button before I’m even halfway up.
I attempt to shout out as agony lights my skin on fire. Dropping to the floor convulsing, I can vaguely hear something far off, but I can’t focus past the pain to care. I just hope that it was the guys I heard and not one of the other goons.
The shocks eventually cease, yet the effects they have on my body don’t let up. I’m completely useless to do anything as I feel myself being lifted off the floor. My eyes won’t even open to let me see who has a hold of me. For all I know, one of the guys could have me.
Cold air hits my face and my faculties are just about returning when pain lances through my side as I smash into the floor. Feeling the cold grass tickling my face, I grunt.
Rolling over onto my front and pushing up onto my knees, with great difficulty might I add, I finally manage to force my eyes open to see Rick wrestling with someone behind me.
Mr. Talkative, aka Baldie, must have tried to escape with me through the back garden.
Sound starts to return with each punch that Rick throws. Not showing any signs of letting up, despite the guy underneath him being unconscious and covered in blood, he continues. Hit after hit. Crack after crack.
Standing unsteadily, I walk over and gently nudge Rick in the side with my foot as I manage to get a closer look at the guy underneath him.
Let’s put it this way, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he was dead. At the very least, he’s going to wake up with a massive headache tomorrow. If he wakes up at all.
“Rick, stop.” Completely disregarding me, he continues his assault. “Rick,” I say more forcefully.