I Would Take A Bullet For You

2. 'Plan of Action'

Zak slowly opened his eyes. His vision was blurry and he could hardly muster the energy to blink. Maybe it was best to just lie back down and go to sleep.
"No," decided a voice in his head, "You need to stay awake!" With much effort, Zak propped himself up on his elbows and took in his surroundings.

He was in a small dark room, which had a musty smell about it. The room had one tiny window and a locked iron door. Zak tried to move, but realised, with a jolt of despair, his hands and feet were tied to a wooden chair. He was well and truly stuck. He craned his neck to look out of the window, and saw what looked like the top of a boat, but the window was too far away to look out of properly. Squeaking noises were coming from the far corner of the room and to his horror, Zak discovered he shared a room with rodents. Squeaking wasn't all he could hear now, outside the room, a heated conversation was taking place.

"Yes! He's tied up and can't get out. The door is locked and there are bars across the window. It's fine!" Grumbled a man with a deep and gruff voice. Another voice spoke up, this time it sounded female; soothing and calm. "He won't bother anyone at the moment, he's asleep."

Footsteps sounded and then a key turned in the lock. Alarmed, Zak shut his eyes hurridely and hoped he looked asleep. The door opened and someone walked over to where he was sitting; Zak could feel their breath on his face, and smell cologne. After a few minutes, Zak heard the door close, lock and the footsteps retreated. He waited until he was sure they were gone, and then opened his eyes. Silence. He was alone. If he could find a way of escaping, it had to be now.

Carefully, Zak scanned the room, looking for anything that could help him escape. Suddenly, his eyes fixed on a small vent in the wall that his hadn't noticed before. If that led anywhere, it could be his escape route. He sized up the vent and estimated how big it was. Eventually, he decided that if he turned his shoulders to get in, then twisted them back when he was in, then he would fit. Now he just had to untie himself from the chair. That would be easy enough, but it would attract a lot of attention, giving him approximately 1-2 minutes to climb into the vent and untie the ropes binding his hands and feet together.

He could hear footsteps - it was now or never. He lent forward so that he was half-standing up, he then slammed the chair down on the floor with all the strength he could summon. He chair hit the floor with a resounding 'Crash!', splintered, and then split into pieces. Right now, the chair was the least of his problems, he could hear the footsteps quicken in pace, and as he climbed into the vent, the key turned and the door flew open. The man looked around, his face beetroot red, and spotted Zak half-in, half-out of the vent. In a furious rage, the man seized Zak's ankle just as he was about to escape, and began to tug on it, trying to pull Zak out.