My day started in the backseat of a car with a gun pressed
against my hip.
By that I mean when the calendar day started. I woke up some
time Monday, hungover on the beach. But as the crappy wrist watch chimed
midnight, I was being driven through the city by three men I “met” in a bar.
I know I should stop going to bars.
There were two in the front, one in the back. The one in the
back was the one holding the gun against me, telling me to keep my head down,
telling me if he pulled the trigger it would shatter my pelvis, “you’ll never
fuck again.” Actually, part of me thought Rob had hired them. After all, the
last time I had seen Rob, he was pretty concerned with my sex life, too.
After driving for thirty minutes, we pulled into a parking
lot. I could tell from the street lights passing above the rear window. For
hours they sat there, taking turns napping while someone held a gun on me. I
figured we must have been outside the pharmaceutical company that was offering
the reward on me.
Around five the sky was turning from
black to purple with hints of pink reflected in the low-hanging clouds, one
of the men got a text. “He says the door’s open,” the man said. The handle of
the gun smashed into my head. It didn’t knock me out, but while I was reeling
from how amazingly uncool that was, someone managed to get a bag over my head.
They pulled me out of the car and I felt a cord tighten
around my neck before they pulled my hood over my head and down in front of my
eyes. “Okay, let’s go.”
I didn’t resist. I’d done that earlier. They weren’t as nice
as to roofie me the way Trevor had. Instead, when they first grabbed me, they
beat me until I knew they weren’t going to kill me. Then I gave up. My feet
dragged across the parking lot, my sandals falling off as they did. By the time
we were inside I could feel blood running down my toes from where the skin had
worn away.
“Take him to the equipment room,” one of them said. “We’ll keep
it clear.”
And so we went back to waiting. I could hear them texting,
playing games on their phones. Occasionally the door would open and I would get
a sense through the bag that we were sitting in total darkness. After a long
while, after one of the men began to panic, two of them began to fight. I could
hear someone being thrown about, trying to escape. It would have been a good
chance for me try to escape myself but I was sure whomever was shouting for them to stop was
still holding a gun on me.
“Let’s just turn him in,” I heard one of them whimper from
the ground. “Let’s just take the money and go.”
I don’t really know how to explain what happened in my mind
after that.
“Please let me go,” I said to no response. “You don’t have
to do this.”
I could hear the two men still struggling maybe ten feet
away.
“We can all walk away from this,” I plead.
“Shut the fuck up!” the third man shouted. For that second,
I knew exactly where he was.
I jumped from my knees into him, body-slamming him into what
I guess must have been a wall.
Catching my balance, I ran towards where I had
seen the light coming from earlier.
The gun fired and I kept running. A second shot. I reached to
pull the bag from my head. A third shot hit my shoulder.
I screamed, even as I pulled the mask off with my left hand.
Then came the tackle, then punching to the face. I tried hitting back with my
left but the man grabbed my wrist and kept hitting me.
“We definitely have to leave now,” the scared man said.
“He’s almost here,” the gunman replied. “Get off him. Get off
him, god damn it!”
The man punching me stopped, forced the bag back over my
face. He placed his hand against my neck, leaning in on it. “You move again
without my say, I’ll kill you. Do you understand?” I didn’t think a response
was necessary. “Say ‘I understand, sir.’”
My throat began closing beneath his grip. “I understand,
sir.”
The gunman spoke up. “What we’re getting paid is more than
we’d get splitting that reward money three ways.”
“Someone heard those shots,” the scared man said.
“He’s going to be here any minute. You leave, you get
nothing.”
The angry man stood and grabbed me by the ankle, dragging me
away from the door. I could feel his grip slipping against my blood. After he
let go, he placed his knee against my chest and kept it there until the door
opened.
“Is this him?” I heard an older man say. They must have
signaled their response. “Go on,” he said. I heard nothing. “Go on!”
“What do I do?” I heard a cracking voice ask.
“You know what to do.”
“I can’t,” it was a boy, he still had his voice.
“You’re the one who told me this would work.”
“But-“
“He’s bleeding,” the older man said. And then there was
nothing the squeaking shuffling of rubber shoes on linoleum. It squeaked closer
and closer, stopping about my waist. The knee lifted from my chest. “Go on,” the older man said.
I felt a small hand place itself upon my shin and a tickling
sensation run from my ankle to my toes. It struck again and again until I could
feel the boy’s tongue flush against the abrasions on my foot.
“Is it working?” the older man asked.
The boy stopped. “I… Let me see,” the boy was
whimpering through his words. I could see a small light appear, like from a cell phone, through
the black cloth on my face.
Heavy sounds of leather smacking gym-floor became closer. “Stand
up and let me look at you.”
Why these guys never tied me up, I don’t know.
I kicked blindly, knocking down bony legs.
I guess something was just bound to go my way.
Fast to my feet, I used the cell phone light to guide me,
ramming my good shoulder into the older man’s gut.
No one bothered to tie the bag around my neck this time and
it flew right off.
My eyes tried to assess the three men as they stood between
me and the door but my mind was focused on that narrow crack of light, seeing
the handle, knowing how I would make it work.
Someone’s fingers sunk into my bullet wound but I ran free,
ripped open the door and ran out into a gymnasium. I ran straight just to keep
moving while I figured out which way the exit was. I could hear them behind me.
“Put that god damn gun away!” the older man shouted.
It was the perfect scenario. Everything was empty. People
must have heard the gunshots and immediately evacuated. Sprinting like a man on
fire wasn’t going to draw any attention to me.
But I could hear at least two pairs of footsteps right
behind me.
Bursting out into the open, I saw two people hiding in the
bushes. “Gunman! Gunman!” I shouted, pointing at the men behind me. After that,
the footsteps stopped. There was a scuff and they began in the other direction.
I didn’t bother looking.
My eyes were struggling with the light, processing where I
was. I could see the downtown skyline ahead, the park to my right. I was running
out of the naval hospital.
Most importantly, I could see my sandals ahead.
I snatched them up and ran across the boulevard, into the
park, towards one of the bum camps I had to clean up during work service.
My car is on the other side of town, so I spent the day
trying to sleep here. It hasn’t really worked. I switched my phone on so I
could write all this while it was still in memory. When I did, I saw I had made
the news again.
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