Chapter 20

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Tim wakes to a stabbing pain in his head. He tries to open his eyes but quickly realizes he is wearing a blindfold along with a gag in his mouth. 

What in the hell was going on? The last thing he remembered was walking toward his truck to go pick up Austin.

He tried to assess the situation he was in the best he could. Not only was he blindfolded and gagged but his hands were also tied extended high above his head. His feet were barely touching the floor with each ankle tied to something heavy. He was no longer wearing a shirt or boots but luckily his jeans were still on. A musty smell reaches his nostrils. Maybe an old shed of some kind.

He takes in a quick panicky breath as he hears the sound of two car doors slamming. His heart rate quickens as he hears the front door opening.

"Well, looky here. The fag finally decides to wake up." A gravelly voice says.

"Now we can have some fun, right?" A different voice asks.

A rough hand grabs Tim's jaw and he suddenly feels spit on his face. Why was this even happening?

"You worthless piece of trash." The first voice growls near Tim's face.

The man's raunchy breath almost making him gag.

"We're going to make you regret the day you ever f*cked another man." The first man says as he hits Tim as hard as he could in the crotch.

Tim's muffled scream of pain only made the two men laugh.

"This is gonna be fun." The second man laughs as he punches Tim in the ribs.

They continue to punch the helpless Cajun and laugh even harder with every hit.

"Let's see how you like this, fag boy." The first man says with a chuckle.

Tim screams out as the man hits him across the back with a whip.

"Cool, you brought blood on that one." The second man laughs. "Can I try?"

Tim pulls desperately at his hands and feet. Only causing the ropes to dig deeper into his flesh. The second slash across his back brings Tim to heavy sobs as the pain sears through his body.

"Awww, did we hurt the little fagot?" The first man pretends to pout. "This is only a sign of things to come, Homo."

"We made him cwy. Poor Butt F*cker." The second man laughs.

"Hey, I'm kinda getting hungry. Let's go get something to eat. We'll play with our new toy later." The first man says as they head toward the door.

Tim tries to catch his breath as he feels the blood trickle down his back. The pain was unbearable. Was this how he was going to die? At least 'I love you' was one of the last things he was able to say to his husband.

He just prayed that Adam, Austin and his friends would not give up looking for him. He knew he was still in the swamps because of the smell. And no one knew the swamps better than Mark, Bob and Joe Ben.

Tim had no idea how long he had been unconscious. A few hours? A few days? His hunger and his thirst for water told him it had been awhile.

A few hours later the two men return. The torture resumed. The punches, the kicks, the whips across his back. Even urinating on him.

Tim found himself praying for death.

~~

Two days had passed since Tim had gone missing. Adam and Austin were total basket cases. Their friends and loved ones did everything they knew to do to keep the guys thinking positive.

Austin was beginning to lose hope where Adam, on the other hand, knew that Tim was alive. He could feel him. Was it all just in his mind or was his and Tim's love enough for the connection to be felt.

Bob had managed to find out that two men had bought some rope and two concrete blocks from the store and had paid with a bad check. They had a name, Steve Austin.

The friends divided into two groups as they searched every inch of the swamps. Each group had a walkie-talkie so that they could stay in touch.

The doctors even closed the clinic. They figured that when Tim was found that he would need immediate medical attention. So Rob went with one group led by Bob, which included Chris and Austin. Chance went with the group led by Mark, which included Adam and Joe Ben.

Jenika, Olena, and Kelsey stayed at the house. They locked the doors for safety and listened to the talk between groups on the walkie-talkie they had.

Hattie was at the restaurant, also with a walkie-talkie. She was watching for any strangers that might come in to eat. One that might try to pay with a check.

The groups were searching any old sheds and abandoned homes that they could find. 

"Mark? You there?" Bob called over the radio.

"We're here, Bob." Adam answers while Mark concentrated on the old dirt road. "Did you find Tim?"

"No, Sorry, Adam. We just finished searching Copperhead Swamp. Nothing." Bob answers. "We're quickly running out of places to look. Where are y'all heading?"

"Uh, Cypress Creek, I think." Adam says. "Keep looking, Bob. Tim is here somewhere. We can't give up."

"We're not gonna give up. Just call us if you find anything." Bob says.

"We will." Adam answers sadly as he lays down the radio.

Mark suddenly comes to a stop.

"What do you see something?" Adam asks.

"Just checking something." Mark says as he gets out of the truck. Adam hops out of the truck along with Chance and Joe Ben.

Mark squats down looking at the road.

"Pa, what do you think about this?" Mark asks as he points at some tracks.

"Good eye dare, Boy." Joe Ben says. "Dese look fresh." (there, these)

"What, Mark, what do you see?" Adam says with anxiety.

"Cedar Creek is a bad trapping area. No one comes back here. You can tell by the road. But these tracks here looks pretty recent." Mark says.

"Really?" A small smile grows on the blond's face.

"Don't get your hopes too high. We ain't found nothing yet." Mark says as they head to their vehicle.

A half a mile up the road, Mark slams on the brakes once again.

"Adam, get on the radio and tell Bob for them to get their asses to Cypress Creek. We may have just found something." Mark says as he stares at something.

Adam follows his line of vision and notices that the high grass on the side of the road had been flattened as if a vehicle had been traveling in and out. A trail led across a field of high grass.

"BOB! GET TO CYPRESS CREEK!! WE MAY HAVE SOMETHING!" Adam shouts as he stares at the grass.

"We're on our way. Be there in ten." Bob answers.

*********

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