WEB OF LIES | peter parker

iii. truths & lies

After twenty minutes of driving the car screeched to a stop. The man that had threatened me opened my door. He had ditched his black sunglasses and now wore a cheap clown mask. I kicked him with all my might but he didn't even falter. He grabbed one of my arms, ignoring as the other him in his chest, face, and anywhere else I could reach. He held both my arms behind my back and zip-tied them together. Then he slipped a bag over my head and my sight was replaced by darkness. The man pushed me forward for a hundred steps. 

I counted everything I could on my way here. The first time I was knocked out so I couldn't determine how we got there, but this time they made the mistake of leaving me conscience. We had taken. I knew exactly how many left turns we had taken, six, exactly how many red lights we stopped at, two, exactly how many right turns, four. We sped up six minutes into the ride and started going slower five minutes before we got here. Meaning we were probably on a highway for approximately nine minutes. I'd give this to the police and maybe this time they'd catch the people that did this. 

The man stopped me in and pushed me down. I braced myself to fall but instead landed on a chair. 

I heard him take five steps, each one reverberating off the walls. Counting helped me, the same way it had when I got overwhelmed at social events, except now it helped me keep my mind off the possibility that I may not be able to give the numbers to the police, I may not go home. 

I'd tell the police we took six left turns, four right turns, stopped at two red lights, drove for twenty minutes, and walked a hundred steps. I would tell them these things, no maybe's or if's about it. 

I heard five more steps and risked a scoot back of my chair. It scraped against the floor. I held onto the sound with hope. It was a sound I had learned well from hours of standardized testing. The sound of a cheap folding chair against a gym wood floor. If I was right, thank God for standardized tests. 

"The fuck was that?" I heard a deep voice say from somewhere behind me. I couldn't tell how far since his voice was echoing in what must have been empty space. But I could tell this wasn't the man that brought me here. "Lil' bitch must think she's smart and is tryin something." This voice was different, more country and higher. "You're not getting out until we decide you're getting out, hun." The country voice spoke again. Lie. 

But what part? 

The fact that I'm getting out at all? Do they plan to kill me? Or are they not the ones that decide when to let me go? 

"Liar," I tried. Maybe I am an idiot. Maybe trusting my lie detector that didn't make any sense was what ends up getting me killed. "You don't decide when I get let out. The person above you does. You're all just a bunch of lackeys." Adrenaline makes you do stupid things, say stupid things. My heart felt like if it beat any faster I was going to have a heart attack.

I heard ten steps coming towards me. "Hey!" The guy that took me shouted. "You know the rules." Another step towards me. "Hurt her and we don't get paid." True. 

I let myself relax, the smallest bit. "You know, Mr. Country-twang. You're right. I do think I'm pretty smart. I mean, I figured out that you guys are just puppets and I figured out that we're at St. Frye High School." I really am an idiot. What if these men decide to say screw the money and kill me instead right here? Or more logically, what if they leave right after they have to set you free and these punks never get caught? Rory Hayes what a bright young mind you are.

"Shit!" The man close to me with the deep voice screamed. Suddenly the bag was ripped off my head and my eyes burned from the sudden light. I looked around. I was right. We're at St. Frye High School the exact spot I took my SAT. The giant animated bumblebee made it clear.