Natalie Farewell

Dashing Street

Chapter 7~~ Dashing Street

"What about Henry?" Natalie asked.

"He is free," the man replied, "we let him go last night and he is sworn to secrecy about what happened. If he tells anybody, he knows we will come for him again."

'It's my fault he was here for so long,' she thought to herself.

"Can you let me go now?" she pleaded.

"Are you going to do as I say?"

"Yes. As long as after that, you leave my family, Henry and I, alone." Nat said firmly. She could hear two sets of footsteps clicking on the concrete floor, heading in her direction.

"Oh. There's one last thing," said the strange man, "tell your mother you were with Henry in the city for a few days. You are going to have to put up with the crap she'll give you for that one. Just get the necklace and we are done here."

She lifted her head as she felt somebody untying the knots around her waist and wrists. The two people, who seemed like men, roughly grabbed her arms and tugged her towards the door, as though the other man had called security.

"Boys! Be gentle," ordered the man calling from the table and they loosened their grip slightly on her sore tired arms. Natalie turned to see a smirk spread across his masked face as he caught her glance.

The two men swung open the double doors taking her into a hallway with piping along the walls and two more double doors at the end of it. Once they had opened those, it took Natalie a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to the bright sun that shone down in the alley. A sharp garbage smell immediately effected her nose causing her to gag slightly. Looking to her left, a huge garbage bin was against the wall of the narrow alley. The two men were still holding her, still wearing their balaclavas and she could feel the leather gloves against her skin. A few seconds after the double doors were shut behind her, they were slammed open again, revealing yet another man wearing a balaclava.

"You will need this," said the man, now recognisably the same person that gave her these instructions. In his out stretched hand was the flip-phone. Natalie remembered the phone on the table. It must of stayed there when she stood up and was forced out. She tugged one hand from the man clutching onto it, grabbed the phone and jammed it into her pocket.

"If you call the police, we won't be here, in fact, none of it will. Don't even try. And by the way," he continued, "you remind me of your mother." The man laughed, turned and went back inside. Soon after that, so did his assistants. They let go of her arms and without a word, returned back inside as well.

As soon as the men left her deserted in an alley, she made her way to the main road, noticing a coffee cafe to her left and a barber shop to her right. Peering across the street she saw a green sign attached to a thin pole, looking as though it was about to fall off. 'Dashing St.' she read. There were people walking by, stopping their conversations to look at her.

Of course, she looked horrible. She felt horrible. Nat had not eaten in roughly two days, her lips felt numb and crackled with blood and she could still see the red in her hair from her face bleeding. Her stomach grumbled and she she suddenly felt nauseous.

Natalie started to think about the man that took her and the way he spoke to her. It was as though she just met a stranger that already knew her too well. He spoke in a polite manner, even though he was forcing and threatening. If he treated her so badly, why would he tell his assistants to be gentle with her? How did he know her family? Who was he? So many questions made up Nat's confusion and made her even more dizzy and nauseous.

As Natalie was looking across the street seeing unfamiliar surfing shops and grocery stores, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Flinching, she turned to see a pair of dark blue eyes staring right into hers.

"Are you alright?" the boy said, "What happened?" As he spoke, she couldn't help but notice his British accent, his short blonde hair and a swirly red tattoo running down his neck, and clearly continuing underneath his plain white singlet. Natalie hesitated with her reply.

"I'm fine," she replied, not knowing how to explain her appearance, "I just... tripped over... and I don't remember anything," she paused again,"I woke up and realised my pockets were empty, but I still do have my phone."

"Oh my gosh," he replied, his eyes weary, "Sorry, I don't really know you, but you obviously need some assistance, you look lost. Can I get you some ice and help clear you up?"

"Do you live around here or something?" Nat asked curiously and suddenly a little self conscious. Her cheeks went rosy as she blushed, looking down at the clothes she had been wearing for two days straight. He continued talking, as if he didn't notice her sudden sense of insecurity.

"Yes, but my family owns a surf store across the street and we probably have a first aid kit around there somewhere." said the boy. It was so strange to Natalie after being treated badly and had been thrown into a basement, to have somebody worry and offer her help; especially as this somebody was a stranger.

"I'm fine. I'm sure I can manage," she said after a moment to think. Natalie turned to her left, about to walk towards the bus stop, but the boy stepped in her way, blocking her view.

"I insist. You need help!" he said, looking straight at her. She stared back at him, with a bewildered expression on her face.

"Fine, if you insist. Thank you," she hesitated, "Sorry, I didn't quite catch your name."

"Chris," he answered, with no hesitation, reaching his hand out in front of him expecting a hand shake.

"Natalie," she said and shook his hand with hers. She couldn't help but smile.