First, an apology. I had every intention of posting this on Saturday, and then ended up going on a hike and totally forgetting. So I was going to do it Sunday.
HA.
Ergo, you’re getting it on Monday along with a tag. Heh. You’re welcome.
Secondly, quick review! This is a continuation of my short little snippet, Ransom. Grace Johnson wrote the second part, and this week’s contribution comes from the amaaazing Saraina Whitney. 😀 Let’s dive in, shall we?
The Prompt
This is a series written by you guys! Interested in continuing it? Ask me for the fourth part, which you can read and then write off of. 🙂
The Story
The van sailed over a bump in the road. Slade groaned, long legs cramping in his awkward position in the van’s dark trunk. Hunger pangs gnawed, but he couldn’t eat the packet of old jellybeans he’d extracted from the depths of his backpack’s hidden interior pocket, because then he’d just throw up on himself. But, goodness, was he hungry.
That’s all he would admit to himself.
Not that somehow any of this was his fault. Not that because of him, his mom and dad would be worried sick. Not that he’d probably be tortured at the hands of his captors. And he certainly wasn’t admitting to himself that he’d die, and that it would forever break his parents’ hearts.
Slade ground his teeth, smashed a fist into the too-light backpack he wore. Fine. He was admitting it to himself. “What could I have possibly done to deserve this?” Alright, maybe he had been sneaking out at night to hang out with his buddies, had lied to his mom about his crush on Jennifer, and had ‘accidentally’ missed church after the stupid fight with his dad. God, I haven’t been a… paradigm of holiness lately, and I’m sorry. But this?
The van swerved, then pulled to an abrupt halt. Door slams split the eerie silence. Sweat slithered down Slade’s back as he prepared for death. If only he had someone to endure it with. Someone like—never mind, stupid idea. He wouldn’t want her to die. The trunk door flipped open, and light blinded his eyes.
A gun greeted him, aimed point-blank at his head. “Get out,” Crook One growled, voice muffled through his pitch-black mask.
“Alright, alright!” Slade began to untangle himself from his seating position.
Crook One cursed and grabbed Slade, hauling him over the edge of the trunk. Slade’s eyes widened as he tumbled headfirst onto the dusty ground. Dizziness struck like lightning and pooled through him, blurring his vision. Blood greeted his tastebuds, along with… was that dirt? Gross. Slade heaved out a cough.
“How… rrrrrude,” he croaked. He tried to pull himself up, but—what a surprise—the men proved too impatient yet again. One yanked him to his feet and all but dragged him over limp grass and rocks that bit into him. Who knew rocks could be so vicious? A sharp smell hung in the air. Something artificial. Unnatural.
Crooks One and Three followed with quick steps. Head still swimming, Slade’s eyes sank shut as the ground sliding beneath him shifted to something cold and hard.
His sleeve was stripped back, and something sharp pierced his skin. His hissed, eyes jerking open and landing on a needle injecting a dark liquid into his system. Oh no. No. No. He was being drugged, wasn’t he?
Great.
Slade’s head lolled back. Supid black spots he couldn’t fight crept around his vision, swift. Then Crook One tossed off his mask, and Slade frowned, a jolt of shock oozing through him.
No. It can’t be.
Slade’s eyes fell shut against sudden tears before he gave in to the pull of darkness.
AHHH WASN’T THAT JUST AWESOME!?!??!? Saraina is SO talented, you guys. Seriously. 😀
What do you think? What trouble has Slade gotten himself into? Who is the mysterious Crook One? What is going to happen next? Will I ever start posting on time? 😛
Until next time,
Take courage, pursue God, and smile while you still have teeth!!
~Joelle
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