Aaron. [Aaron Paul]

Six.

Aaron is shoved into the room late that night, waking me up.

"Help your 'mate' watch her until sunrise. And feed her." Darren says before slamming the door shut again.

Dylan jumps awake as well, and silence is the only thing that's happening until the lights in the room flicker on. Aaron stands as stiff as a board by the door, and Dylan is still sitting on the stool he was on last night, rubbing his eyes. 

My eyes finally adjust, and I look around. There's not much my eyes find except for Aaron. He's hunched over, and I can see a hint of a shiver running through his body. He doesn't look up until Dylan sees him and, with a gasp, gets up and runs over.

"You alright, mate!?" he lays a hand on Aaron's shoulder.

I see Aaron tense, but he relaxes swiftly, and peers up.

"Bloody hell!" Dylan exclaims when Aaron's face is shown.

Quickly, Dylan reaches over to the wall near the door and flicks up a light switch. The room is lit in a glowing yellow color, and I examine Aaron now that I can see him. 

"I just-I just talked back once." Aaron stutters.

His face is bruised and bloody. His left eye is swollen shut, and his other one is shut since some blood from a cut on his eyebrow is dripping down. His bottom lip is busted, and he has bruises on both his cheeks from what looks like multiple punches. 

I widen my eyes, and look over the rest of him. Apart from his poor face, his right knuckles are the only other things that seem to be damaged.

I forget I have the tape over my mouth, and I try to speak. "Mmhm-ehhum." is all that comes out.

Neither of them look at me. Dylan just pulls Aaron's arm over his shoulder and escorts him the the bottom of the couch, shoving my feet to the ground.

"Ohw." I try to say, sitting up.

"Why does she have tape on her mouth?" Aaron says. His voice is still weak but he seems to be getting it back.

"She talks. A lot." Dylan says. "More than you would want to hear."

I just roll my eyes and sink back into the couch, thinking more about a better plan to try and escape.

As Dylan tends to Aaron's wounds, I realize something. I am calm. Calmer than I ever thought I'd be if I was kidnapped. The things in the room are calming, though. The soft glow of the light, the soft baby blue color that the room is painted, and even the hum of the air conditioner. I would imagine that I am quite lucky. If someone was in my situation, they'd never guess I was kidnapped. I mean, there's a huge table of food right next to me! 

"Shut your eyes if you're going to sleep," Dylan comments, tearing me out of my thoughts. He still stands in front of Aaron, holding a bag of ice to one of his cheeks. "I hate it when people fall asleep with their eyes open. It's creepy."

I look at him, and then shut my eyes and lean my head back into the couch.

I wasn't trying to sleep. I was just thinking. But I got sidetracked from my ninja planning, so let me go back and think more about how to get out.

Alright. I am in a room. There is a couch, a locked door, two boys (one is in a very weak state) a table of food, a stool, a lamp, and a mini-fridge with unknown contents. I need something to scare the guards. I do not know if there are any forks or knifes on the table, but if I could untie my ropes and get to the stool, than I could break one of the legs and use it as a knife. That's one possibility.
If I do that, I would have to get them back out in the hallway and make sure one of them took me to the jet, if it was even still there. Or, I could somehow get up to the captain's pit and drive the ship. . . No. Too impossible. I'll stick to the jet.
But Dylan or Aaron could lead me to a false area again. So I could either find a map or escape without even leaving this room...

With a new idea, I perk my head up and look around. There is one window. But I can't see what's under it. So I rock myself back and forth to stand up, and start hopping around the couch. The back wall is a couple hops away, and luckily, I'm just tall enough to see through it.

I look through, quickly taking a mental picture as Dylan starts to yell at me.

"Hey! Hey, sit back down! Don't make me tie you to the couch!" he says, walking around towards me.

But I already have what I need. On the other side is about a six foot drop to the deck below, overlooking the sea. The only thing I would need to do is jump out, cross the deck that would only take, like, five steps to get to the railing, and then walk to the left towards the life boats. Jump in one, and drop it to the sea.

But wait, I would have to drop the other ones, first, so no one could come after me. Alright, I can do that tonight when everyone is sleeping. 

I have an outline of a plan already in my head by the time I'm falling asleep again on the couch. But I have to keep myself awake for tonight. My plan has to work.

Dylan ended up falling asleep next to Aaron on the couch, and surprisingly enough, his head is propped up by Aaron's shoulder.

I have to tell myself not to laugh as I slowly but surely rock forward onto my feet. 

Dylan left the light on, so I can see everything.

I hop quickly and quietly around the room, searching for something sharp to cut my ropes. At first glance, I don't see any forks or knives on the table, but I walk around and see one beside a plate of turkey. And this is no butter-knife. It's a full on knife-knife. 

I contain my happiness, turn around so that I can reach the knife with my hands still behind my back, and feel around until I grip the handle sturdily. Trying hard, it takes me a couple minutes to get the knife at a perfect angle so it can slice the ropes. But once my arms go slack, I get chills.

My arms are free, the door is locked, I have a knife, and the boys are both still sleeping.

Swiftly, I bend down and cut my ankle ropes so I can walk around, and then make my way towards the window.

I unlatch the locks, and then peek my head out to check for anyone or any cameras. I don't see any, thankfully, and glance back at the two sleeping guys. They're still passed out, so I haul myself up onto the windowsill and swing my feet out.

My knife is still gripped in my hand as I drop down and push myself against the wall to make sure no one is patrolling the deck.

Nobody comes around, so I tiptoe towards the life boats. I count seven, and then start sawing away at the ropes. One after another, they plunge down into the water. I'm getting more and more nervous and sweaty, and I'm about 99.9% adrenaline when I'm on the second to last boat. I'm also on my second to last boat when I hear the voice.

"What the hell are you doing?!" It's a loud whisper coming from the window.

I cringe sawing harder, but it says it again, harsher.

I turn my head, still cutting, to see Dylan with puffy morning eyes, his head hanging out of the window.

I ignore him, my hands getting shaky, and then breathe a sigh of a relief when the rope cuts and the boat falls to the water. Finally.

Then, I jog over to the next on, and start cutting the ropes.

"Hey! No! Wait!" I hear him again, and he starts to crawl out of the window.

I clench my jaw, nervous, but he gets to me faster than I thought he would've. His forearm wraps around my waist, keeping me from jumping into the boat. I struggle for a moment, before bringing my elbow back into his stomach. He groans loudly, letting me go, and I take the short time to jump into the boat and cut the last rope.

"Tell Aaron I said he's a stupid jerk." I say, pushing the knife into the rope before I feel the boat start to fall.

"NO!" is the last thing I hear, though, before the boat slams into the water, and rocks back and forth wildly.

I put my arms out to steady it, shaken up my the drop, but blink away the dizziness and look around.

And that's when I see him. Dylan. He's sitting across from me. In the boat.