Don’t give in, the voice inside me screamed.
I bucked like a pony and reached forward, my hand closing over my phone. Yes! My joy was extremely short-lived when the man, who was still straddling my back, snatched it out of my hand and tossed it into the nearby creek.
“No,” I cried, watching it swept away beneath the surface.
“No one’s going to help you,” the voice above intoned.
Something inside me went deadly calm. Like the fear and panic flat lined, leaving behind nothing but the sound of my deep, even breathing.
This fucker had no idea who he was dealing with.
I grabbed a handful of gravel beside my face and threw it behind me, right at the man. He didn’t tumble off me, but he did swear and I felt him fidget about. I grabbed another handful and launched it at him as I pushed up on my hands and knees, forcing my way out from beneath him.
When I got to my feet, he grabbed me around the ankle and yanked me back. I reached into the hidden zippered pocket of my pants and pulled out a small container of mace. I carried it in case I ran into a bear or some aggressive animal.
I should have known that the real thing to be afraid of out here was another human being.
I flipped the little cap and depressed the button, the spray shooting forward.
But it missed him. He was still low to the ground.
Still clutching the mace, I took off running. I got maybe three steps when he tackled me again. Gravel cut into my cheek and stung my hands.
I started to scream.
I yelled as loud as I could.
He flipped me over and slapped a hand over my mouth. His face was dirty from the gravel and dust I flung at him. His eyes were no longer so empty… They were now filled with excitement.
He pressed against me. I felt his hardened erection crushed insistently against my middle, and I gagged.
He was sick. This was sick. This couldn’t be happening to me.
“Shut. Up,” he said and rocked against me.
I bit him.
He howled in pain and snatched away his hand. As I screamed, I reached out and grabbed at the erection that made me gag and yanked on it, twisting it, digging in my nails and hoping the pain would immobilize him enough for me to get free once more.
In the distance, a dog was barking, and I prayed that meant someone was headed this way, someone that would help me.
My attacker slapped his hand over my mouth again. The taste of blood, metallic and sharp, had me recoiling. His legs were shaking and I knew he was in pain.
But it hadn’t been enough.
I saw it in his face.
I felt it in my bones.
I wasn’t getting away.
I tried to buck him off one last time. I reached out for two more handfuls of gravel and dirt.
He drew back his arm and punched me. Right in the face.
And then there was nothing.
2
Nathan
I pushed away from the table, disassembled weapons covering the top, and opened up the white fridge sitting to the side of the room. The sound of hard rock filtered from the other room into where I was working. Usually I liked that music. Today it was annoying as hell.
I grabbed a Red Bull and popped the top, taking a long swig. I hoped it gave me the energy I was seriously lacking. I rolled my head around on my shoulders, working the kinks out of my neck, and then glanced back at the table.
Being tired probably wasn’t the best thing when you were cleaning and assembling weapons. ‘Course, I knew those guns so well I could likely do this job in my sleep. Weapons weren’t just my job; they were sort of a passion and a hobby.
Weapons were also dangerous in the wrong hands.
I knew that better than anyone.
I glanced at the clock. Only a couple more hours ‘til quitting time. A couple more hours ‘til I was off for the entire weekend.
I was glad it was Friday. I felt like I needed a break from work, but a break from work meant endless hours to fill. I wasn’t the type of man that could just sit around idle. I used to be. But not anymore. Now, I needed distraction. I needed less time to sit around and think.
Bronx walked in from the other room and snatched a Red Bull out of the fridge before turning to me. “You coming tonight?”
I grinned. “Of course. Bring your twenties. I’m feeling lucky.”
Bronx shook his head. “When’s the last time you actually won one of our poker games?”
Honestly, I couldn’t remember. I wasn’t about to admit that. I grinned. “Exactly. It’s high time for me to clean yous out.”
“That’s a lot of talk,” Bronx said, chugging the Red Bull.
“We’ll see,” I boasted and returned to the automatic weapon lying on the table.
“Good thing you’re better with guns than you are cards,” he cracked on the way out.
I chuckled. He was right. If I was as good with cards as I was with guns, I would have been able to get out of the Marine Corps a long time ago. I might even have been able to avoid some of the demons I would likely carry to my grave.