A Bit Too CRAZY (Josh Hutchereson FanFic)

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Danny stares at me, thinking, thinking hard. “Just let me go, and leave me alone,” I say tiredly.

                “Why should I?” Danny says.

                “Because the longer you keep me here the more I hate you.”

                Danny makes a weird gesture with his hand. Someone comes over, and unties my legs, then my body, but leaving my hands tied. The person who untied me walks away into a different room. Danny walks behind me, and unties my hands, but keeping a tight grip on them with his hands. “I’ll let you go soon,” he says.

                “What do I have to do to get out of here now?” I ask.

                Danny scoffs. “Nothing. Doesn’t matter what you do, you’re not going anywhere until you do me a favor.”

                Damn you. I think.

                Danny leads me into another room. It’s smaller than the last, and has no furniture. “Stay here for a minute, I’ll be back.” Danny leaves, and locks the door. Why is he doing this? What does he want? Why can’t he see I don’t want to be here? If he wants me, he has to make me happy, and if he wants me happy, he releases me.

                I sit against the wall facing the door, and hold my knees loosely, like I do when I look out the window in my bedroom. After a minute or two, Danny returns and is holding rope. “Get up,” he commands. I stand up silently, and walk toward him. “Arms at your sides. Totally straight.” I do what he says, and he ties me up. Tightly. “Stand against the wall.” I walk as  much as I can to the wall. Through the door, Danny says, “Come in!”

                A buff-looking, large man walks in. He wears a bullet proof vest, and all black clothes. His expression on his face is fierce, but in his eyes I can see he doesn’t want to be holding the gun he has. “Yes, sir?” he says to Danny in some kind of weird accent I don’t recognize.

                “Stand over there.” Danny points to the wall facing me, and the man follows his commands. “I told you in the other room what to do.”

                The man lifts the gun up and points it at me. I can tell he doesn’t want to shoot, I can feel it. He probably doesn’t even know my name. Coward. I think. Danny’s a coward. He can’t shoot me himself? Coward.

                “Fire when ready,” Danny says. The man gives me a look. The look you’d get in a movie theater when someone’s dying in the movie. Like you’re sad, but not crying. A long face. “What? Just shoot her!” Danny says.

                “You said ‘fire when ready’, sir,” He says. “I am not ready.” The man’s voice is deep, slow, and it reminds me of Africa all of a sudden. His dark skin too. Then I think out of nowhere: This man can shoot the rope, and then I can knock Danny out, and we’d run out. It’s a long shot, likely resulting in me being shot, but it could be worth it. I mouth to him when Danny isn’t looking the plan. He seems to understand, and aims slightly to the side. I close my eyes tight, preparing to get shot and feel blood trickle down my body, just in case. Besides, it adds to the fear I might actually get shot and have no plan. There’s a loud bang, a gunshot, and then another, and another. The ropes fall from my sides and to the floor. Danny looks angry.

                I run to Danny before he can say anything. I slap his head to the side, knee him in the stomach, and punch him in the temple. He falls to the floor unconscious. The man grabs the keys from Danny’s belt loop, and lets us out the room. We run down several different hallways until we reach above ground. Suddenly, trees surround us in the chilly dark night.

                “No worries,” the man says in his African accent. “I can keep us alive out here. I’ll get us back to the city.”

                “Okay. Should we camp out here?” I ask.

                The man looks around a little bit. “This spot is fine.”

                “Okay. What’s your name?”

                “My name is Dylan.”

                “Scarlett.”

                “Beautiful.”

                “Thank you.”

                The man builds a fire easily, and then picks berries off of a nearby bush. “These are edible,” he tells me as he hands them to me.

                “Thank you.” I eat the berries, which are sweet and juicy, and then sit on the ground by the fire. “Where are you from?” I ask.

                “Why?” The man asks.

                “I’m just curious. It’s a nice conversation starter anyway,” I reply.

                “I was born in America. My parents immigrated from Africa. That’s my voice is like this if you were wondering.”

                “Oh. That’s nice. I was born in this city. I’ve never left. I’ve always wanted to go and visit somewhere else though.”

                “Why don’t you?” Dylan sits by the fire across from me.

                “I can’t afford the airfare these days. I would’ve gone to France a few years ago, but my mom got sick and we couldn’t go.”

                There’s a silence, and I can hear the owls making their little whoos. I start thinking about Danny, and how he wanted me dead. Why would he want me dead? Didn’t he want me? ”Why did Danny want you to shoot me?” I ask Dylan.

                “He said that if he couldn’t have you, no one can.” Dylan raises his hands to the fire. “Would you want to see something to lift your spirits?” he asks.

                “Sure,” I say, and smile because he wants to help me. Dylan makes weird exploding-like hand motions at the fire, and eventually a little bit of the flame flies away from the fire, and floats above Dylan’s palm. It’s like… like magic. “How do you do that?” I ask in wonder.

                “I learnt is from my father. He used to be a magician,” says Dylan.

                “That’s incredible!” Dylan turns his hand holding the fire into a fist quickly, extinguishing the flame. “That lifted my spirits a bit. Thank you,” I say.

                “It was nothing. I was being nice.”

                “With people these days, it means a lot.” Dylan gives a sort of nod, and we decide to get some sleep.