Page 10 of Burdens
I mentally went through the options I was faced with. Either I surrendered and subjected myself to whatever he had planned for me or fought my way through and risked getting shot.
Either way ended with me dying, but one seemed like a much more appealing death.
I stood and aimed my gun to take the last few men out when the muzzle of a weapon caressed the back of my head.
“We’re gonna tell you one last time, asshole. Drop. Your. Gun,” the person behind me hissed.
I prepared myself to disarm him, but the moment I turned around to grab his weapon, something crashed against the side of my head. My vision blurred and my limbs weakened from the forceful impact against my skull.
I was teetering on the edge of blinding pain. Disoriented, I blinked repeatedly and tried to recover from the blow. But before I could regain consciousness and inflict damage to my assailant, I was hit again and the darkness at the edge of my vision became all-consuming, dragging me into its depth.
The sound of water dripping from a distance stirred me out of unconsciousness.
My head felt heavy as I lifted it and peeled my eyes open. But instead of discerning where I was kept captive, darkness greeted me.
I blinked a few times, thinking it might be a residual from the throbbing pain at the back of my skull, but the pitch-black darkness remained. My mouth was dry and I felt groggy, most likely a side effect from whatever drug they gave me after I collapsed.
Fighting nausea, I tried to take several deep breaths, only to realize something was covering my head. I moved my head around despite the pain to lift it off, but it was useless. The fabric barely moved enough for me to see the dark floor beneath me.
I didn’t know how long I’d been in this position, but it was long enough that my shoulders were painfully sore from the tension exerted on them.
I winced and rolled them back to alleviate whatever was causing the tension, but that only sent more pain sweeping across my entire skull. I tried to reach to soothe it by bringing my hands forward, only to realize I’d been restrained.
My arms seemed to be suspended above my head and my wrists were bound so tight, the slightest movement sent the abrasiveness of whatever was restraining me burning across my skin. I tugged on what seemed like rope and rocked my body sideways to figure a way out, but I barely moved an inch.
The agony I felt with every movement combined with the stench weighing over wherever I was locked up sent my stomach churning and scorching bile rising up my esophagus. Mybreathing thickened beneath the black hood as I tried to breathe through the rising nausea.
I swallowed harshly against it and continued swaying, hoping they would eventually give out. I kept going, the sound of chains clinking from the ceiling, until I heard faint voices arguing in the distance.
I abruptly stopped.
If they thought I was still unconscious, they’d speak more freely and I might survive another day without a bullet to the head.
The chime of their voices grew louder as something creaked from afar before it seemed to be slammed shut. Dim lighting filtered inside my cell and their footsteps getting closer followed it.
Their chatter was barely perceptible, but I recognized one of the voices. It was the same one from the ambush. He most likely was my father’s right hand since he was the only one who spoke directly to me. The others seemed to only be following his orders.
As they got closer, another voice in the mix sounded familiar—more than the others. But since I still couldn’t quite pinpoint what they were saying or who was speaking, I simply brushed it off.
My mind must be playing tricks on me.
Instead, since I could barely see through the fabric, I zeroed in on all my other senses. One of them was bound to slip and say or do something I could use to escape.
“How long has he been out?” That same familiar voice asked again in Arabic.
A woman’s.
My mind must be in such a fog because I was sure I was imagining it. My dad didn’t hire women. He despised them.
“Three days now,” someone answered.
I’ve been out for three days? Fuck.
I shut my eyes and forced myself to steady my breathing, staying as still as I could manage. The rattling of metal was followed by aclunksound in the space before some sort of gate screeched on its hinges.
Their steps faltered to a stop a few feet in front of me. I couldn’t see well through the fabric, but I did see their shadows dancing through the small slit between my chin and neck.
There were three of them—two men and a woman.
