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Darkness turns to light as smooth fabric moves across my forehead. I blink half a dozen times, trying to force them to adjust. I hadn’t even realized I was blindfolded.
A sob catches my attention. It’s followed by more harsh syllables.
Jesus Christ, my leg hurts so bad I can hardly think straight.
Memories slowly trickle in, but in my confusion, I don’t know if I can trust them. They hardly seem like they could be real.
A face materializes. A woman stares down at me, her lips a thin, pink line. I feel like I should know her…
The alley…
She’s the reason I’m here…tied to bed…my leg screaming in pain.
If my arms were free, I’d fucking choke the bitch. She and her brats would be dead if it weren’t for me—
She had kids…two of them…
She’s pointing frantically as a rush of harsh syllables streams from her lips. I lift my throbbing head and see a small boy crying on a bed in the corner. Another boy is patting his arm.
‘Just be careful,’Blake had said.‘Some nut knocked me cold last time I was on pest control. She had a couple kids with her.’
Fuck…
The woman looks at me desperately, as though begging.
“You fucking stab me in thegoddamnleg and expect me to help?” I shout back.
Her eyes shift over to the crying boy.
As angry as I am, though, I have to remember the very real, incredibly bad situation I’m in. I need to tend to my wound or I could die of infection. Which means I have to play nice. Get her to let me go.
“Look, I’m not going to hurt you. If you let me go, I’ll leave.”
She points to the boy and says more words I don’t understand.
“You want me to help your boy? Fine. But ya gotta let me go first.”
More words. My annoyance grows, but anger isn’t going to get me out of this mess.
“I know you’re scared,” I say in a soothing voice. “It’ll be okay. No one has to get hurt.”
She licks her lips as she mulls over my tone, because she obviously can’t understand me. She says a few things over to her crying son, who, through his sobs, replies.
Whatever they’re saying is lost on me.
From the looks of it, the boy is injured, but not infected with the dead virus. While that’s a relief, his wound still needs to be treated.
The woman rises and grabs a large hunting knife.
“Ah, I’mnota threat, lady,” I say nervously.
She brings a foot up and steps on my outstretched hand.
“Whatever the fuck you’re doing, you better think it through. I have friends, and they won’t take kindly to me being dismembered.”
She brings the knife down to my bindings and begins to saw.
I breathe out a sigh of relief and prepare to launch into action.
