Page 14 of The Darkness Within

Rank

Ask help

Go home

They wanted us to beg for help, to beg for the Army to come rescue us and take us home. It was a trap. I doubted very much they were bargaining for our lives. The United States didn’t negotiate with terrorists.

A sick feeling washed over me, threatening to make the broth come back up. We were at a crossroads, our time becoming shorter by the second. If I didn’t read the words on the paper, they would kill me. But if I read the words, they’d kill me, anyway. Either way, I was a dead man.

“Read. Read!”

“Don’t say anything, G. They’ll kill us either way, but don’t give them the satisfaction.”

He was barely conscious, most likely checked out from the pain, and was only able to nod his head as it rolled on his slack shoulders.

Seething and panicked, the guard pulled out a knife from his belt and held it to my throat. The cold metal kissed my skin, burning as the sharp blade cut through the surface layers.

“Read!”

When I remained silent, he pressed harder, and I could feel the warm, wet rush of blood flow down my neck, soaking into the collar of my T-shirt. The blinking red light on the camera turned green. The bastard was recording this shit. No doubt he would play it for the people in charge of deciding my fate.

He spit in my face and then moved on to Gutierrez, holding the knife against the side of his head. Gutierrez was barely able to respond to the threat.

“Read,” he shouted at me.

Swallowing past the lump of fear in my throat, I remained stoic and silent, knowing I held Gutierrez’s life in my hands. But really, it wasn’t up to me at all. I knew deep down they were going to kill us both, whether I read the statement or not. I refused to give in, to give them what they wanted. I would not be weak in my last moments.

The sound of the knife slicing through his skin curdled the broth in my stomach, and I regurgitated it over my lap. The pain of losing his ear was enough to rouse him from his subdued state, and he screamed in agony as blood dripped down into his shirt. Hot tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall, not while these fucking bastards were filming me.

“Read! Read!”

Go fuck yourself and die.

I spit a wad of saliva onto the dirt floor by his boots. The guard standing next to the cameraman unholstered the gun at his hip, strode forward, and shot me in the thigh. At first, all I could feel was the heat of the bullet piercing my skin, like being sliced open with a hot knife. I felt the spray of warm blood bathe my face, could taste the copper tang on my tongue. Seconds later, the real pain set in. Adrenaline coursed through my blood, making it as thick as my fear, and my heart rate beat triple time. Gutierrez continued to scream, his eyes closed, head lolled back, but it was drowned out by the sound of my own blood whooshing in my ears.

He’d hit the bone. It must have shattered because there was no way in hell a simple gunshot wound could hurt that badly. Bleeding from my neck and my leg, I could feel myself becoming weak, lightheaded, only keeping my wits about me from the adrenaline and the fear.

“Read!

“Go fuck yourself.”

He slammed the butt of his gun against the side of my head, knocking it back in a flash of blinding pain.

“Go. Fuck. Yourself.”

Then he slammed the butt of his gun against Gutierrez’s head, knocking him blessedly unconscious.

“Go fuck yourself.”

The guard spit in my face and hauled me to my feet. The fire in my leg and the throbbing in my head was enough to rob me of my vision long before he dragged me all the way back to my dark cell.

Knock, knock.

Knock, knock, knock.

The pounding goes on and on relentlessly as my head throbs, and I can feel my heartbeat like a pulse behind my eyes.

The longer I try to shut it out, the louder the pounding becomes until I can’t ignore it any longer. Reaching out blindly in the dark, I search frantically until my hand connects with something solid, and I breathe a sigh of relief as my fingers twist in the worn cotton t-shirt. Crawling to my knees, I manage to stand on shaky legs, desperately searching for the offending sound.

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