Chapter 9

Wednesday

I open my eyes in the cell, my first thought is, I'm home.

Sad.

I'm here maybe a week, and I'm already used to this. The torture, the pleasure, the uncertainty. First chance I get, I'm looking up Stockholm syndrome. How long is this going to affect me? Am I ever going to be normal again?

I rise. Eat an MRE. Rock a bowel movement. Pace. 

I watch the morning's dew evaporate into the day. The temperature rises, wind picking up. The trees sway and I feel the breeze thru the bars.

It's quiet until the sound of two golf carts come from behind the wall with no window. Smart, coming from the view I can't see. I set ready, cross legged on the cot. Not wanting to show eagerness to see what's next.

Not sure if it will be more pleasure or more pain. 

Shadows come to the door, before I see them standing at the door. Both decked out in camouflage shorts, fishnets, black boots. They wear tight undershirts covered by sleeveless camo jackets. Black finger less gloves. Camouflage balaclavas protect their lower faces, but stop short of their ice cold eyes. 

Both hold funny looking rifles. It's then I see ammo bands with tranquilizer darts. Lots of furry tipped ammo, all over them.

Pain today I see.

"I'm not playing, whatever this is." I say to deaf ears.

The click and the door opens anyway.

"You don't have a say." The blonde eyes me down.

"You will get a five minute head start." The brunette swings the door open.

Neither enters. I scratch my head, try to think.

"What are we...playing, again?" I ask stunned.

"Capture the pet." The blonde states.

"Why...am I running?"

"Whichever tags you, gets to have you tonight..." The blonde starts.

I start to smile.

"...to torture..." The brunette finishes.

And I look stupid.

"...Remember sweetie, you still haven't given us what we want.

The names.

"Typical man." The blonde states.

"Why would I run? What if I just stay here for the five minutes? What then?" I ask both, but stare down the blonde.

"Clocks ticking." She counters, not breaking eye contact.

"We would both take aim, and it would be seriously, the shortest game ever." The brunette counters, wanting my attention. 

Use it.

Still looking at the blonde, I pry. "Pretty sad you got all dressed up, probably got all hyped to teach her the training course-"

"What's this teach shit?" The brunette demands my eyes.

"One minute." The blonde tries to talk over.

"...I bet she got all excited to try to prove herself to you-"

"I've got nothing to prove!"

"You're wasting your breath." The blonde looks to the brunette, then her eyes return to mine. "He's trying to get in your head. A distraction. He's planning his move."

Bitch.

I smile before speaking, confidently. Curveball.

"Yeah, but it's true though...You want to prove yourself so bad, even right now you know you're second fiddle..." My eyes finally venturing to hers. "She's your leader-"

"Hollow words, clocks still ticking." The blonde rushes from out of my view.

"...Your boss, you're...master." My eyes focused into hers.

She says nothing, her eyes starting to boil over with rage. Keep pushing. Almost there. Just need the right wording.

"That makes you...her bitch."

"Shut up!" The blonde yells in at me. "Get up!"

The brunette isn't waiting. She moves in. The blonde follows fast. It's then I see the stun gun in the brunette's left hand. They enter together in the tight quarters, and I rush them. My eyes focused on the stun gun.

All three of us collide together; I have the brunette's hand. I squeeze, and shove.

For once that devil crack doesn't hit me, and I bust threw them like a running back breaking out of the backfield.

I run. I'm not sure if the stun gun got her or not, but I have an inch of freedom, I have to make it a mile. I laugh out of madness in my adrenaline rush. I push and run. Unsure of which direction, I continue blindly running away. 

I'm out of breath already. I don't know how long I can run out here, running without shoes. It looks like noon. The sun is at its brightest and warmest. I don't know where I am, or what time zone I'm in, but I'm sure of that.

I see trees ahead of me. Cover. I have to give it everything to make it there, pain in my sides, like daggers. Cutting me when I breathe. Cutting me when I hold my breath.

I haven't ran in years. Cigarettes are killing me. And I can't gasp enough air to keep going, until I hear branches snapping behind.

I turn and see the brunette chasing behind. Her eyes locked on me.

Fuck!

In her arms, the tranq gun. She's catching me, and I'm pushing with everything to keep going. My mind is doubting, my body is redlining. 

I duck under low branches, dodging in and out of trees. Using anything for cover, I feel her aim right before I hear the tree I'm rushing past, get stuck with a dart. The thud shakes the tree, causing leaves to fall as I run past.

I'm bobbing and weaving, the pain in my side is second to the fear of getting shot. Our running causes an echo of leaves crunching all around in the untouched forest. Trees causing distortions and reverberations of our chase.

I can't tell how close she is. I don't want to look behind. The lack of shots fired, causes my confidence to grow. I think I'm gaining distance on her, hearing her footsteps falling behind further.

For a second, I turn to see her stopped, lining up a shot. Both hands on the rifle. One eye closed, pinpointing me. It's then I drop to the ground. 

I don't hear the fire, but I hear her cuss to herself. She fired, and missed. Get up! Run!

I'm back up, and pushing away. For a second, I see her stopped, loading the rifle. She sees me, and rushes the clip, by then, I'm looking for more trees to dodge in between. Maybe get her to fire. Expel her ammo. 

She rushes loading. She's slow on ammo.

I run down a hill, using trees to slow my quickening steps downwards. A clearing ahead, then a thick forest. I have fifty feet to clear before I can use cover.

It takes everything for me to run normal. My feet have lost the battle, and flop without strength. My sides hurt so badly, I'm crying from the pain, and I can't catch my breath. I run without form, my appendages flop awkwardly. Legs have no strength. 

She's behind, catching back up. I don't hear shots, just grass and leaves crushed under her steps. She's stepping hard and faster. She's at the hill. Then she's at the base. I look back, and she looks pissed and surprised at my distance. 

I'm sure my face matches hers.

I'm in the sunlight of the clearing. An opening reveals the beautiful scenery, mountains and a clear sky. Thick tall grass slows me down. My steps become large lunges, trying to will myself to cover.

This is it. She's right there. Any second. Any second you'll feel it. It will be a sharp stabbing. She's got to be right there.

Then I hear her behind me scream out in shock. I turn back, and no one. Just tall grass. She's screaming, but my mind can't register. I see nothing, but hear her screams. Her screaming for help is loud, so intense. She's scared.

I slowly stop, and look around for the blonde. It's a trap; it's got to be a trap. No one in any direction, just her screams from the tall grass in a forest of nature. Her screams echo hollow, with no one to hear.

Then my mind reacts: sinkhole!

I rush over, and see a hole into the ground is trying to eat her. I'm frozen momentarily, a large hole into black. No bottom. There she is, holding onto the ground with both outstretched arms. Fingers sunk into dirt. Her face is wild with panic.

In the second I register my situation, I see her slip. Her grip is fading, and she sinks deeper. Only her neck and head are above ground.

I rush over, grabbing her without thought. Our eyes connect for a moment, and I'm pulling her up from her shoulders. 

Everywhere I grab, I can't get a hold. She's wet with mud. I feel no grip, just the weight of her, and she's slipping.

I grab and tear, I pull at her clothing with everything I have. 

Don't lose her. Don't lose her!

I have no leverage, so I get as low as I can, the dirt and grass are cold and wet. I feel it smear across me.

She's panicking and screaming but it's muted. All I can focus on is seeing her fall from my grip, and I'm panicking. 

I pull till my shoulders scream. My whole body is weak, and I'm scared, I'm panicking now. I can't do this. I won't be able to save her.

My hands running from holds on her to anything I can grip.

"Pull up!" I hear myself scream in the madness.

My hand magically runs under her armpit and I finally can grip at her and pull with some leverage. Slowly, very slowly, my body gains the strength. I feel her body hold under me.

My left finds its way under her right arm, and I have her. I lean back, and lift with everything.

My back is stabbing me, my shoulders pop. My body has nothing left, but somehow I keep pulling. 

I hear my guttural roar, and I slowly pull her from the mud. She's more, larger than I expect and my body is telling me "no".

Finally I have her up to her stomach, then her waist. I lean back, using my back to bend under her weight. The pull lifts her to her knees, and we both collapse onto the ground.

I can't breathe; my body is killing me all over. Each and every muscle exhausted. My inept physicality exposes my weakness as a man. My determination finally shows its physical face when I needed it most. 

We lay there, exhausted, covered in mud, grass; for who knows how long. There's a moment we look to each other, gasping, not knowing what to say. Only her eyes visible under the muddy balaclava.

What did I do? What is she going to do? How are they going to react? What did I just do? I could have Ran. Gotten away. 

Maybe.

I look over, and she's looking at me. Shock is what I see. 

I'm shocked as well. I didn't know what to do, so I rushed to save her? What did I just do!?

We look to each other for a minute. Not speaking. Her face changing. I can't tell what she's thinking. She registers; acceptance, gratefulness, and then I see shame.

"I'm sorry." I hear, before she pulls a pistol from her holster, and aim it to me.

I'm so shocked, disappointed, I say nothing, and look back to the sky, sucking air. 

We just lay there, catching our breaths for a moment, before I hear her slowly getting up. Without needing to respond, I roll over and try to get up. My body has nothing, and I feel like molasses. Hardened jello, with achy joints holding me together by matchstick. 

Stumbling when I stand, I see her there, attempting to catch me. But I catch myself, and usher her back with a wave.

"We need to get back." Her eyes speak deeper than her face, so much emotion being held inside. "Move."

I can't find any words to fight, so I say nothing out of some strange form of disappointment. We walk carefully around the mud hole, looking into the black abyss of what could have been. How close today became to the next step of seriousness. 

I know deep down, this is just a game. Not a serious kidnapping and torture. This is PG kinky movie version of what should be happening. Fucking Disney. Why am I safe? Why am I being served this dish? What stopped me from being taken from cold forces that would do the most damage to me before wiping me away from existence? 

Why was I saved? Why would I be any different than any other exposer of truth? What am I doing to be given this?

We walk in silence. And I want to ask. I want to demand, I want the truth. I want to know everything about my surroundings, my situation, the reason I'm here and not being held by murderous men. Deep state agents with no empathy.

These two are different. This is different. This whole thing, it's not, normal. Not right. Some reason, I feel strangely excited by it all. Even the pain, the physical pain, isn't as bad as my fears tell me. 

We walk and walk. Past trees, and valleys. I ran further, a lot further than I thought. In the distance I see mountains, clear skies. I see green grass growing wild. No touch of man in sight in every direction. Where in the fuck am I!?

Occasionally, she barks a direction. "Left", "Go around".

Always behind me, I never turn back to look at her. Out of defiance, she doesn't deserve my look. Not even a glance.

We walk and walk. My sides cramping, I don't even know where we're going. If it's even in the right direction. This looks all so new, in my rush; I didn't take in my surroundings. I have no clue, allowing myself led back to my purgatory. 

Coming over a hill, I start to see familiar rock jetting from the ground. I'm back at the cell. 

There's the blonde. Setting in the door. She's hurt. The stun gun got her, and she slowly uses the frame to get to her feet.

The look of her eyes is utter anger. I feel it coming. Pain.

She sees us, and I see her react with anger. She's coming at me like a mad zombie. Her eyes are black, and it's the last thing I see before she pulls back. Her fist nails me directly in the face, immediately my eyes are flooding with tears, and I'm hitting the ground with a thud. 

My nose feels broke. I can't stop the tears running out of my eyes, as she's screaming down at me.

I can't hear the words, but I get the gist. She's angry. Very angry with me and the diatribe of curse words lets me know. So many words, so fast. I can't even keep up, or listen.

Bitch can get angry.

"What the fuck, do you think was going to happen!? You have fifty miles in every direction before you see the closest neighbors!"

I lay there blinking away signs of weakness. Taking it.

"What the fuck happened to you two!? Why is she covered in mud!?"

She grabs my shirt collar, pulling me up. I'm back on my feet, and she's in my face.

"What the fuck happened out there!?...That you would both get that dirty!?"

I don't respond, and wait on her to speak up. But we both stay silent, like children being scolded by mom. 

I finally look back to her, with my eyes I speak, "Tell her I saved you". 

Her eyes look back to mine with, "I can't."

It's all I need to know. I'm alone. Even when I'm not. 

We both don't respond, the blonde getting madder.

"You can just stay out here then! I don't want you getting the house dirty. Think about your actions. Maybe, even learn that everything has a consequence."

I just look to the brunette. We speak without using words. Her face says so much more, than her mouth. 

The blonde grabs my throat hard and forces me to look at her. 

"Stop fucking looking to her like she'll fucking save you. You fucked up today bud! Maybe even a day or two worth of punishment. Hope you haven't ate all your food, because it just so happens that were busy tomorrow, and won't be making a trip out to feed you. How does that sound?"

My eyes show no emotion. Even though, I feel so much and want to tell her everything, I stay silent. 

This is not what she wants, and I'm spun around, facing the brunette. I hear the handcuffs snap on my wrist. I just look at the brunette, never saying a word. Our eyes bridge and I feel her sympathy as I'm being locked into helplessness.  

"Oh, and I forgot the key at home, so I hope your shoulders are doing better."

The words like a dagger, I see the brunette feel for me. The pity in her eyes makes me close mine.

I'm turned back, to the blonde, and I open my eyes to see her condescending eyes. 

"Was it worth it?" She asks half mocking, half pissed.

I slowly look to the brunette, and say "Yeah."

My response gets me pushed back into my cell hard. The door slams behind me. The hum comes to life behind me. I just stand there, my back to the door. No words are spoken, as I hear them walk away. Two motors move away into silence.

I'm alone. 

Handcuffed and helpless. 

My body is weak, and the strength I have left, gets me to the cot. I set down on the sleeping bag, in bondage, unable to even cover myself in the cold. They'll come back. They won't leave me like this all night, I'll freeze. 

I'll freeze. The words repeat in my mind, and now for once, this is real. I could die in this game. I could be a real victim of some sadistic government agents. Everything I've done up to this point, I felt invisible. Undetected by authorities. 

But now, here in this moment, I'm realizing my situation. I may have just signed my own death warrant. 

I try to get the cuffs past my legs, by pushing my restraints under my ass. But my weakness, I can't get them past my ankles. I struggle and flop around, muscles fatigued, I just collapse on the sleeping bag, and wait for my body to regain some strength.

Mud covers my bedding, my shirt and pants. My face and neck, still wet. I'm a mess of brown paint, beginning to dry grey. My face is a mess of tears, snot, and blood. It begins to cake and harden. 

I must look real attractive right now is my last thought, as I begin to let thoughts cloud my closed eyes.