Living in Before

Days Gone By

"Let me out," I shouted, kicking what I hoped were tail lights, "Let. Me. Out!"

Every move I made forced the zip ties to dig deeper into my skin. Every turn, every bump in the road knocked me around as the car sped up. Sweat covered my forehead, dampening the blindfold. No matter how much air came in through the bullet holes, I still couldn't breathe. It was a miracle I hadn't been hit. Police sirens and the yelling of criminals overlapped one another. When another car rear-ended the one I was in, I rolled onto the crowbar, shouting as my head collided with the rug blanketing the bottom of the trunk. But I had a moment to myself. A moment when the police sirens stopped and the men ceased their bickering. A moment when I accepted my fate.

Then, the car flipped over.

I screamed, bruises forming as I crashed into the cold metal where the rug was torn, the leather stick of the backseat, the crowbar. Pain dug its claws into me, unrelenting and loud. I was thrown from the car when the trunk popped open, and I still couldn't see.

The wind knocked out of me as I landed. My back collided with something and I stilled. I knew it was over for me. The men would find me and I would die. It's a good thing I didn't go down without a fight.

Still blind, I used what was left of my voice. "Help! Somebody, help!"

"Shit! They got a hostage... They're wounded!"

From then on, it was nameless voices.

"What are you doin'?!"

"Put it down! Put the gun down!"

My skin was aflame as shots fired. The air reeked of smoke and burnt rubber and whatever product I used to dye my hair. Through a small crevice in the blindfold, I saw long grass. They swayed to the tune of my boss commanding his men to shoot me. A single bullet raced through the air, but it never hit.

A heavy thing almost crushed me before it wheezed. "Are you okay," a man's soft voice rasped. He removed himself. "Son of a bitch shot my new vest. Can you believe that?" He said it more to himself than anyone in particular. "It's okay," he continued, "You're okay now."

Before I could say anything, a harsh and familiar voice sounded. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm alright," the man behind me replied.

"I saw you take a bullet for her, man. It scared the hell outta me. We took that son of a bitch down. Him an' the other one. That the hostage?"

'The other one?' My thoughts pushed through my polluted mind. Tired by the second, exhaustion stepped closer. "There were three."

The man who saved my life couldn't hear my weak muttering. "Do not tell Lori that happened. Ever. You understand-" He shouted after one more gunshot went off.

A new darkness embraced me. A peaceful one which told me I could sleep and be fine with never waking up.

"Rick," the other man called. Pressure on my back made me groan. The man shushed me and begged me to stay with him. "Leon! You get that ambulance down here. You tell them there's an officer and a civilian down, and you do it now! Rick, stay with me, ya hear? Stay with me." He ripped off the blindfold, but my vision was already gone. The man called my name and shook me. "Oh, shit. That really you? Talk to me now." His voice faded away. "Come on... Stay... Rick!"

-

I didn't know where I was, but it was dark, and cold, and uncomfortable.

A smooth, white ceiling greeted my hazy vision. My body twitched with a tremendous ache as I peeked at my surroundings, a blank heart monitor standing close. My wrists felt safe within gauze. A patterned curtain circled the bed I lay on as plastic rails kept me from falling to the floor. Disinfectant lingered, but remained a simple note compared to the symphony of filth. I must have been in recovery.