𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 | RAFE CAMERON

Fifty | R O U G H T I D E S

   As I slowly came to, my eyes scanned my surroundings. It didn't take me long to realize that the Pogues had locked us in a cramped cleaning room. I turned my attention to Rafe, who was still out cold beside me, our hands bound together by rough rope. I gave him a gentle kick, hoping to wake him from his unconscious state.

Rafe's eyes flickered open, and he rubbed his temple with his tied hands, his eye was black, and he winced in pain. "What...what happened?" he muttered.

I tried to adjust my bound hands, attempting to find a more comfortable position. "They've got us tied up like a pair of prize pigs," I said, struggling against the rope, to no use.

We both looked around the room, it was small, with shelves lined with buckets, mops, and an assortment of cleaning products. A single door, with a small window in it, stood between us and freedom. I tried to think of a plan, but my mind was foggy and my head throbbed.

Until Sarah opened the door, with two cups in her hands, she sets it down on the floor and then leaves not saying a word to us.

"It's full of shit." He said.

We sat there, bound and helpless, with nothing to do but talk and wait out the hours until we reached Morocco. The dim fluorescent lights above seemed to hum in tandem with the creaking of the old boat, and the smell of saltwater and diesel fuel wafted through the air. Rafe and I chatted idly, trying to pass the time, but our conversation was laced with a sense of unease. We both knew that our situation was precarious, and that we needed to escape as soon as possible.

As the night wore on, the boat began to move more violently, lurching and bucking like a wild animal. The creaks and groans of the vessel grew louder, and I could feel my stomach dropping with every wave crash. It was clear that we were in rough waters, and that our captors were either reckless or unaware of the danger. Rafe and I exchanged a nervous glance, our eyes locked in a silent understanding. We needed to get out, and fast.

Without a word, Rafe began to work on the rope binding his hands, using his teeth and mouth to try and loosen the knots. I followed suit, my jaw straining as I tried to wiggle free. The rope was coarse and rough, and my skin was raw and chafed, but I kept at it, determined to break free.

Just as we were making progress, the boat lurched violently to one side, sending us crashing against the wall. Rafe yelped in pain. We were running out of time. Rafe's eyes locked onto mine, and he yelled out, "Hey, we're down here! What are you guys doing?"

I shouted out into the darkness, "Let us out of here! We're going to sink!" But our cries were met with silence, and I wondered if anyone was even listening. Were we alone on this doomed voyage, at the mercy of the stormy sea.

Rafe yells once more. "Hey, assholes! Cut us loose, come on!" We waited in silence, our bound hands straining against the rope. It seemed as though we were truly alone.

But then, the door creaked open, and Kie appeared. She strode into the room, a look of urgency on her features, and swiftly cut us free from our restraints. "Don't make me regret this!" she warned, as the rope fell away, revealing our raw, chafed skin beneath.

We sprang to our feet, Rafe and I exchanging a glance. Together, we stumbled out of the cleaning room, emerging onto the deck of the boat. The storm raged around us, the wind howling and the waves crashing against the vessel. Rafe clutched my arm tightly as we made our way to the front of the deck, fighting against the force of the wind and the water that threatened to sweep us overboard.