Cupcake

Shatter-Resistant

A few minutes later, we pulled up to the back of an apartment complex, and I popped the trunk to my car.

Bracer and I both got out and walked around to the back.

We stood there and stared at the big black duffle bag in the trunk for a few silent moments.

Bracer gripped a handle and pulled one end towards himself, and I did the same. With combined effort, -and considerable grunting on my part- we hefted the thick canvas bag out of the trunk and took it up the stairs at the back of the complex and up to my door.

I set down my end of the bag and had to fish my keys out of my pockets. After I unlocked it, we heaved the bag inside and set it in the back room.

"I gotta go shut the trunk," I told my accomplice breathlessly.

"Alright. I got this."

I grabbed my keys out of the doorknob and descended the steps. After I slammed the trunk closed and locked the car, I climbed back up the concrete stairs and threw the bolt on the apartment door behind me.

I grabbed a soda out of the fridge and popped the top as I walked into the back room.

Bracer was just positioning the body into a chair, zip ties in a small pile on the floor, ready to be used as restraints.

The thing with unconscious bodies is that they're deadweight. They flop all over the place. Tying a body to a chair is usually a two-person job.

I took a sip of my soda and smacked my lips. "Need some help?"

"Couldn't hurt," Bracer replied curtly, starting to pull the lifeless arms behind the back of the chair as the head bobbed limply.

I set my drink down and held the body in the chair as Bracer began fastening the zip ties.

Once it was secured from sliding out of the chair, I started on binding the ankles.

After we had sufficiently and effectively fastened the unconscious man to the chair, we left the room and closed the door.

"When do you think he'll be awake?" Bracer asked as he reached into the fridge to pull out a soda.

"Eh, about two, three hours."

"Knocked him pretty hard, did you?" He suppressed a chuckle.

"You know you would have too," I replied, taking another sip.

After a few seconds of silence, Bracer asked, "So how bad was the interrogation?"

I set down my drink and pulled my shirt up over my head in response.

Bracer's eyes widened at the gruesome bruising on my abdomen. There was a tear at my ribs where one or two of them had busted along with the skin. A cut in the shape of a broken circle about the diameter of a golf ball obscured a patch over my lower back and side, surrounded by discolored skin; the result of the end of the iron pipe being jabbed into my side. Or maybe it was lead. Lead or iron. Either way, it left a sizable scar.

"You got lucky, dude," Bracer commented. "He could've busted every bone in your body."

I pulled my shirt back down. "He tried, believe me. I just happen to be shatter resistant."

"...So, you're made of plastic." He took a sip of his soda.

"Oh, is that what that means?" I asked.

Losing interest, Bracer grabbed the remote off the coffee table and clicked on the TV.

"You could've sped up the process, you know," I told him.

He pushed his hair back from his face as he sat on the arm of the chair, kicking off his high-top sneakers. "I also could have slowed it down. After you cut communications, I had to go by estimating. I almost decided to wait another few minutes."

I pulled some sandwich makings out of the fridge and constructed a meal. "So where is she now?" I asked without turning to face my roommate.

"I believe she made it to a secure location. Communications are impossible without risk of compromising her, so contact will be delayed."

"How will we receive word?" I glanced at him.

Bracer shook his head. "She'll let us know somehow."

"She's a sly one," I commented.

The news on the TV provided the only sound for a few seconds.

"But things obviously got bad enough that she would ask us for help; that's what worries me," Bracer admitted in a murmur.

I felt my stomach sink a bit at the thought. "I was hoping I was the only one who had noticed..."

"Same here."