Hey guys, welcome back to the 5th installment of Ransom, a serial story written by you. Last time, we joined Dylan as he closed in on the Crimson Fangs in search of his kidnapped son, Slade. Will he find any clues? Will he make it out alive? Or will we be left in suspense, instead returning to his wife, Norah, who might still be at home? Maybe we’ll be given more info as to who Slade’s captors really are. Or perhaps we’ll be introduced to a character we have yet to meet!
Find out in Emily Waldorf’s piece. 🙂
The Prompt
This is a series written by you guys! Interested in continuing it? Continue from where this post left off!
The Story
Consciousness washed over Slade in slow waves. The first thing he noticed was his splitting headache, then how cold he was. He tried to open his eyes, but light stabbed them shut again.
A voice said, “It’s hard to shake it off the first time, isn’t it? Drugs like that tend to stick around.”
Slade ignored the light as his eyes flew open. It was the same deep voice he’d listened to countless nights at Fonzies, over rum-and-coke. Relief washed over him.
Maybe those nights out with friends hadn’t been wasted, after all.
“Jax!”
As he spotted him, something worse than the light stabbed through his memory: a steely pair of eyes above a mask, injecting the drug into Slade’s arm; a rough, deep voice ordering him out of the car. Slade’s eyes widened.
Crook One.
“Friend!” Slade’s lunge was checked, and he was thrown back against the wall. For the first time he looked around. He was standing in a concrete room, lit by a single fluorescent bulb. He was fastened to the wall by gleaming bands of titanium on his neck, ankles, wrists.
“You regretting those nights with me in Fonzies?” Jax’s face was impassive.
“I only tell my friends what I regret or not.” Slade fixed him with a stare he hoped was level.
Jax’s face seemed to darken, and for an instant he looked like the old Jax in Fonzies Bar. Slade blinked, but the expression was gone, and Jax’s face was hard again.
“Then you must’ve done a good job at aping friendship, ’cause I know everything about you since you were a kid.”
Slade winced internally and cursed those nights in the bar, where rum-and-cokes had made his tongue so loose. He tried bluffing. “Big deal. I mean, ditto. You were just as drunk—talked just as much.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“How many drinks did you average a night?”
“What does—”
“Ten. How ‘bout me?”
“I—”
“Don’t know. Well, I do: zero. But suppose I was drunk. So what?” He pulled a slim piece of black plastic from his pocket. “Know what this is?”
Slade swore. Of course, he knew what it was! A memory stick.
Jax’s face cracked into a grin. “I have your whole life story right here. Everything you’ve ever told me, down to a few minutes ago.”
“A few—?”
“It was an elucidation drug.”
Slade’s mind raced. What had he said? How much of Dad’s work had he given away?
His hands started sweating, and his wrists twisted in his bonds. His pulse pounded, trying to escape his aching head as futilely as he tried to escape the titanium
Jax’s grin vanished, and this time it was unmistakable: his face softened, and he took a step or two toward the prisoner. “You okay Slade? They didn’t do anything really ugly to you, did they?”
“Yeah, I’m fine!” Slade snapped. “Doing swell. Never mind that I can’t even move enough to wipe the blood off my lip—a gift from someone I used to know.”
A look like pain shot through the steel-blue eyes. “I mean it! C’mon, Slade. I wanted to share those drinks with you. Every night. But I didn’t, and now you’re there and I’m here.” He sighed.
“You wanna know why I’m here?” He was yelling. Something told him to stop while Jax still had that look in his eyes, but Slade had never stopped himself from doing what he wanted to, and right now that was tanning the hide off the man he’d called his friend.
“I’m here because you sat across from me all those nights, making up some sob story about your dirty childhood on an L.A. street just to get me to sympathize with you. You know, open up; share. And it worked! Well, guess what?” He leaned as close to Jax as the titanium would let him.
“Slade.” Jax’s voice was a rumble of warning, but Slade didn’t listen. “At least I didn’t lie to my friend.”
No. I lied to my mom instead.
“I never lied to you.” Jax’s voice was as cold as his eyes. “I just didn’t tell you the truth.” He gestured to the room. “Didn’t tell you about this.” He strode to the door, then paused. “Maybe I would’ve, if I thought you’d care.”
Slade didn’t answer. His outburst was over, and now he was slumped against his bonds, breathing hard. There wasn’t so much as a clock ticking.
Then Jax said distinctly, “Codename: Silver. Anaconda.” He turned and fixed Slade with his icy eyes. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
As the door slammed, Slade caught the slightest sound from the dim hallway beyond his cell. A voice he recognized. A woman’s voice. His head snapped up, and his heart started racing.
Jennifer!
Talk about suspense!! Well done, Emily! Jax is actually the name of one of my characters in a WIP I have yet to introduce to y’all. >:) Great job!
What do you guys think? What is Jax’s history? Will Slade ever get out of this pit he dug for himself? What lie did he tell Norah? What does “Silver. Anaconda.” mean? AHHHHH!!!
Someone write the next part or I’m going to die. XD
Until next time,
Take courage, pursue God, and smile while you still have teeth!! 🙂
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