The Search and Rescue Project

The Search and Rescue Project part 6

Caleb

                I woke up and groaned. I felt like my head had been sat on by an elephant then run over by a truck. My hands were numb, tied behind my back. My feet were tied as well. I was against a carton of some sort, and it dug under my shoulder blades. I tried to shift to make myself comfortable but a heavy boot slammed into my stomach and winded me.  I doubled over, gasping. I looked up to see a burly man with his arms crossed over his chest. His biceps were literally the size of grapefruits. He was so buff he either worked out in his sleep or used steroids.

                He was dressed in a black sleeveless shirt and khakis, with combat boots tipped with steel. I gingerly felt my chest. No broken ribs, which was a relief. He could have broken 3 if he had wanted to. I decided it would be better not to talk, so I looked around me. Broken tiles on the floor, concrete walls and ceiling, no windows, a steel door. I realized Kolbe wasn't there with me. She was probably in another room in what I assumed was a warehouse of some sort. Stereotypical kidnap location.

                I thought about the night before. Had Criss and Harry set us up? Were they in with Zaskar? I tugged the cufflinks out of my jacket and put the collar straightners in my pocket, and took off the tie. I felt like a complete poser wearing all of that stuff. I watched the man out of the corner of my eye. I didn't really feel like getting another kick in the gut.

I stared up at the ceiling and sighed. I looked over at my wrist casually; too see if the watch was there. I touched the face of it and the screen filled with grainy black and white lines. Typical. I rolled my eyes and reached up to brush my hair out of my face. I winced when I grazed a lump on my head the size of a golf ball. Great , I got hit in the head with either a bat or a wooden plank.

                I cleared my throat to get the man’s attention. “Excuse me? Could I get some water or something?” I grinned innocently. He grunted and tossed me a half crushed bottle. “Thanks!” He ignored me. I figured it was better than being kicked.

                “Um, sorry sir, but I can’t open it or anything.” I did my best to look sheepish. He sighed and walked over to me. He reached down, opened the bottle, and held it to my mouth. I drank thirstily, and once I was done I smiled and thanked him. He put the bottle down and before he stood up, I attacked. I had pried off my shoes while talking to him and worked my feet out of the rope as I drank, so I sat up and spit the water back in his face, making him jerk his head back. I kicked out at him and hit him in the neck with one foot and the temple with the other. He managed to hit me in the forehead, right on the bump, before he passed out. I gasped and struggled to stay conscious as waves of pain overcame me. I fought the sick feeling in my stomach and stood unsteadily. I awkwardly checked his pockets for the keys. I poked his back pocket with my toe and heard the jingle of metal. I groaned inwardly.  It just had to be the back pocket, didn’t it? I gingerly reached into his pocket and got the keys. I fumbled with them behind my back and unlocked the handcuffs. I rubbed my stiff wrists and looked around. All I had to do now was find Kolbe.