Alison awoke to a sharp, pulsating ache between her temples. Her hands had been bound tightly above her head and throbbed dully against her weak struggles. Her eyes opened weakly; blurry at first, but adapted sluggishly to the brightness that surrounded her. They were rudely greeted, however, by the flashing light of a small cellphone screen and the soft reverberation of a voice somewhere beyond her current state-of-mind.
"Must be nice, right? Falling through the sky like that?... Bet it made you feel pretty invincible, huh?"
Alison followed the screen lazily as it dipped and swooped slowly in and out of her vision. The light vanished suddenly through the bars of the makeshift bamboo cage she had been bound against; followed momentarily afterward by a soft chuckle.
"I like this phone... This is a nice fucking phone. All these features and what-do-you-call-them, apps? Very nice... Very expensive, I like that."
Up until this point Alison's dizziness kept her from fully comprehending what had been happening and who was speaking to her outside of her prison. But as her vision slowly returned back to it's normal state, the severity of her predicament became clearer as well.
She cried loudly into the gag wrapped tightly around her face, catching glimpses of more bamboo cages identical to the one she was trapped within. Some were empty but some; however, held prisoners who were also tied tightly against their bars. Heavily armed men walked in and out of her peripheral vision, babbling incoherently while some laughed crudely to one another. Worst of all, people hung listlessly from their heels, their throats cut as blood coagulate in thick, sticky pools beneath them. Alison retched repeatedly into her cloth gag, trying desperately to control the bile that rose threateningly in the back of her throat. She steadied her nerves quickly while the man continued to talk from his crouched position, seemingly unperturbed by her sudden outburst.
He chuckled, "I love these photos though. That's you, right?"
She gaped openly at the phone as semi-nude photos of herself spread scandalously across the front of the screen. This must have been her cellphone... Her eyes widened with sudden realization as her face burned a vivid shade of red. Apparently this had been the reaction the man hoped for because shortly afterward he removed the phone once again through the bars, chuckled quietly to himself and gazed down hungrily as he flipped lazily from one image to the next.
"Wow. You're really photogenic. Bet that comes in handy in L.A, huh Hollywood girl... Big brother Grant know about these pictures? Huh?"
Alisons' captor must have been expecting an answer, peering questioningly down at her as he held her phone up for emphasis. Suddenly she was struck by the absence of her brothers and friends. 'Grant. Where's Grant? And Riley? And the others?' She only had a moment to dwell upon these thoughts before the man slammed his clenched fist into the bars of her prison, causing a sharp echo to travel throughout her small enclosure.
"I asked you," the man kneeling before her started as his once impish grin vanished into a look of intense scrutiny, "... a question. And I think its very-fucking-rude," he had said this all in one breath, "to not answer someone... Especially when that someone holds your fucking life in their hands."
"It's alright though, Alison." He spoke again, the malicious smile now returning to his scarred face. "Cause I'm gonna keep this phone, and I'm gonna keep these pictures... I'm gonna lock them away," here he made a clicking noise with his tongue while pointing his index finger to the temple of his shaved head, "up here, so I can remember the way you were before coming to my island."
Suddenly he rose to his feet and began pacing the exterior of her cage as he pocketed her phone and began flipping through what appeared to be small index card-sized papers. Alison watched intently, confusion and fear forcing a tear to pool lonesomely at the corner of her eye. The man stopped at one card in particular and returned to Alisons' side..
"Alison Brody... Were are you from? Los Angelas California? Well I hope your mom and pa really love you, cause you and your brothers all look really expensive..."
Alison could hear him shuffling through the IDs once more as the muffled grunts of another prisoner caught his attention.
"Shut up." He snapped in response while looking over his shoulder. Alison followed his gaze towards the awakening figure of a small man who was also bound and gagged within a cage. "We're in the middle of an important conversation here."
The man however continued to speak against his restraints, causing their captor to avert his attention angrily.
"I'm sorry what did you say?... I said shut the fuck up. Or I'll kill you the same way I did your family."
Alison couldn't stop the helpless sobs from escaping as she shouted and screamed against her restraints, either unaware or indifferent to the fact that no one could her them. She had no idea were she was, let alone where the other members of her group were being held, but she didn't care; she wanted out. And unfortunately for her the only way she had of expressing this frustration was to cry, kick and scream.
The man turned his attention back in her direction and knelt down to eye level, the wicked grin he wore, returning back across his face, ; the smile stretching widely from left to right.
"Hey. Hey-hey-hey, what's the matter, Alison? Why aren't you laughing like you were up there with your friends? Am I not funny? Have I failed to entertain you?... See, the thing is, up there you thought you had it all. Way up in the fucking sky you thought you had life by the cojones." He emphasized this by grabbing his crouch suggestively and scooping up a handful of dirt. "But Chica, down here," he continued, allowing the last bits of dirt to cascade slowly from his hand; the smile never once leaving his face, as he finished, "...You hit the ground."
She lowered her head and continued to cry loudly into her gag, almost completely resigned to whatever this mad man had in-store for her. The tears she tried in vain to keep from shedding, once again rolled dramatically down against her swollen and bruised cheeks.
But light shushing from behind the bamboo bars brought her attention quickly upwards just in time to catch sight of her captor as he made to gently wipe the tears from her cheeks. She recoiled from his hand before her face was gripped tightly within his grasp, inadvertently forcing her to stare resentfully into his eyes.
"It's okay, Alison. We're gonna have a lot of fun, I promise."
Finally letting go of her face, he dropped his gaze towards the ground in a surprisingly thoughtful manner.
"I'm in the business of people you know. Kidnapping, buying, selling, trading..." He listed these things off one by one as he counted upon his fingers. "Good money. But I've been thinking lately," Here he rose gingerly to his feet before pacing restlessly once more. "... What's in it for me besides money? Huh? What the fuck do I get out of all this?" He shouted before returning to Alison's side, her face once again clenched strongly within his fist. This time however, Alison found herself no longer looking into the face of a man whose only purpose was to intimidate her. Instead, the man looked as if he had found a newer, more deviant purpose. One he had only just recently settled himself upon as he continued to glare intently back from the other side of the cage.
"But I'm gonna take what belongs to me... I'm gonna take my toys, and I'm going to play with them." His eye contact was palpable and his focus gleamed with malicious excitement. Never once did he blink or break his concentration. It was a characteristic Alison would not soon forget...
Another man spoke somewhere from the outskirts of the prison, alerting Alison's captor (who's name she now knew to be Vaas) to 'stop scaring the hostages' and that he had to take care of rejects somewhere else within the camp.
Rising to his feet reluctantly, the man – Vaas – remarked quietly in a amusing sort of way, "This place would fall apart without me".
Alison watched his departure, leaving another man behind in his place to guard the many cages within the encampment. She thought adamantly to herself about how she was going to get out of her new prison safely as well as entertaining the hope of escaping with her brothers and friends. She didn't have long to think to herself before the figure of her older brother Grant caught her attention suddenly. He crouched quietly behind the guard who seemed not at all alert to his presence.
Alison's eyes sparked with restored faith while Grant made a quick hand gesture, silencing any forms of recognition she might express. She knew enough of her older brother to listen to any order he gave - and given her current situation - she was in no position to change any time soon. The guard remained unaware of Grant's presence and busied himself with the state of his weapon. Grant motioned towards the guard then pointed to Alison's cage, mouthing something along the lines of 'get his attention'.
Stumped at how she was meant to accomplish this (being gagged and bound to a cage really limits your conversational skills) Alison did the only thing that came to mind. She screamed...
The guard who was now alert to her struggle walked quickly to the door of her cage shouting in a heavily accented voice.
"What the hells' wrong with you? Shut the fuck up." But before the guard had time to finish, his head had been crushed repeatedly against the bars and his body sunk lifelessly to the ground to reveal Grant, pushing him to the side and unlocking the chains with deaf hands. Unbinding Alison's from the cage and removing the gag from her mouth, he began a thorough examination of his sister's wounds.
Looking her over he asked; his voice shaking with rage and adrenaline. "Are you okay? Did they do anything to you?".
Alison stared awestruck from him to the apparently dead guard lying upon the ground; all the while massaging the soreness from her wrists. She stammered, "Oh my God. Is he dead? Did you kill him?".
"That is what they teach you in the Army." He retorted dully before exiting the cage, motioning for Alison to follow behind him.
"How are we going to get out of here, Grant?" She questioned, her eyes pleading for a definitive answer.
"Working on it" Was his response.
As she stumbled forward slightly (the blood quickly rushing to her newly resurrected limbs) she crouched low to the ground, apprehensively following her brother. Her feeble attempts at averting her gaze away from the Hell surrounding her disappeared once they found themselves face-to-face with the hanging men from before.
Suddenly Alison burst into uncontrollable hysterics, sobbing loudly into her cuffed hands. "Oh my God, Grant! These people, their all dead... Grant their dead, and they smell so bad!"
Grant turned quickly, grabbing her shoulders tightly and shaking her vigorously in an attempt to pull her back to reality. "Allie. Alison listen to me. I know what you're going through, and I know you're scared. But right now it's just you and me. And I'm gonna need you to pull it together. For Rileys' sake... And the others'." He finished by shaking her roughly once more as if to finalize his plea for sanity.
As a child, Alison had always gone to her big brother Grant whenever she had a problem. Whenever she was picked on or bullied in school, whenever she was too afraid of the dark to sleep alone or whenever their parents would get into heated and physical arguments, he was always there. And whenever she was unsure and in need of strong guidance Grant was there to hold her hand and walk her through all of lifes' problems.
She nodded her head slowly, wiping the tears from her eyes and responded with a trembling, "Okay, I'm sorry."
Grant smiled reassuringly before they made their way slowly through the camps' interior. Every so often the two were forced to hide behind piles of suitcases and crates, hiding from armed men or furiously barking dog. Alison forced herself to turn a blind eye towards the endless piles of suitcases stacked in mountainous hordes whichever way they crept.
"Grant, there's gotta be hundreds of these suitcases..." She whispered quietly, running her hand over the pleathered skin of one bag in particular. Grant shushed her suddenly as he eyed a group of guards sitting around a table playing some form of card game.
"Don't worry about that right now. We need to get past these guards."
Slowly, they made their way past the group without being noticed. Suddenly a gun shot ripped through the air loudly causing Alison to shout out against her better judgment, placing her hands over her ears and screwing her eyes shut as if it would shield her from danger.
Grant quickly turned upon his heels, calming her once again for the umpteenth time. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, he motioned for Alison to do the same. "Breath Allie, breath. We got this, alright? Just keep your eyes on me and we'll get out of here."
Alison tried to keep her attention focused on Grant, as one gun shot after the other pierced through what little remained of her resolve. All she had to do was keep her eyes focused straight ahead and concentrate on moving forward without being seen and they'd make it out. She had to ignore the smells, the shouts and the gun shots... As well as the screams and cries and pleas for mercy from other less fortunate prisoners...
She found short-lived relief when they came upon a shack like building. It (like a majority of the rest of the camp) was packed with suitcase upon suitcase as well as drugs and other relatively illegal paraphernalia. Through Grants instructions, Alison quickly grabbed the items left atop a cramped table top. Folding the map placing it quickly within her pocket and watched as Grant motioned for her to follow behind him.
Remaining hidden from view, Alison reluctantly took notice of a guard leaning nonchalantly against a wall.
She whispered "How are we gonna get past him?"
Grant paused for a moment before pointing to a wall far from the guard's position, instructing Alison to throw a rock in it's direction.
Throwing the rock as far as she could, a sharp ping from its' contact thankfully caught the guards' attention, forcing him to abandon his post.
Climbing through the window left uninhabited by the guard, Alison barley had time to land clumsily upon the other side of the wall before another guard shouted loudly from her sudden appearance.
Before Alison could react, the guard clasped a hand to his neck quickly as blood began drenching the front of his shirt. As his body shifted slightly to the side, Alison could make out the slight handle of a knife sticking gruesomely from his throat.
Grant moved silently into view and gave no hesitation before retching the knife from the guards' throat as he pushed the man to the ground.
"You okay, sis?" He questioned, looking back imploringly over his shoulder.
"Yeah... I think I'll be okay."
Alison unfolded the map and between Grant and herself, they both plotted out their next course of action.
Turning to her brother, Alison asked "Where are we?"
Ignoring her, Grant responded more-so to himself, "Should have never made that jump alone, Alison... I promised dad I'd take care of you Riley."
Alison placed her hand upon his shoulder, smiling apologetically. "Does this say where Riley is?" She asked, motioning towards the map.
"No, but we're gonna find him. Then we're gonna free the others, and then we're going home."
A single gun shot pierced through what little remained of her confidence in regards to escaping the situation with her family alive, as her eyes fell upon Grants' face and the fresh bullet hole in his throat.
The image of her brother's gasping and bleeding figure floated hazily from beyond the outer most reaches of her mind; shock and hysteria taking over all rationality she possessed. She was unaware of her brothers doomed condition, unaware of the voice speaking from beyond her reality and more or less unaware of everything around her. All she could think to do was stop the bleeding, stop her brother's pained gasps for air and stop the tears she was unconsciously weeping.
A familiar voice spoke against her sobs and desperate struggle of keeping her brother alive. "What?Huh? What, you want to run? Huh? You want to run? You want to disrespect me? You want to fuck with me?"
'The bullet didn't hit him... He's going to be okay.' She repeated ignorantly to herself.
"I mean you come here, with your... With your pretty Hollywood face, right? And your expensive phone and your dimwit brother..."
"Please, don't die Grant. Don't die! Stay with me, please!" She screamed out loud.
"And you want to fuck with me? You want to fuck with me? I like that... No! I respect that."
Alison cried out loudly while tears continued to fall from her eyes, all-the-while her brother's blood collecting dramatically beneath his fallen form, flowing freely despite her frantic attempts at applying pressure to the wound. She watched helplessly as the life drained from his eyes, before she was finally left alone to gape at the blood upon her hands. The distant shouts from before however, brought her comatose mind back to Earth.
"I'm gonna give you 30 seconds... And if this jungle doesn't eat you up alive, I will. Go... Go!"
Scooting away slightly from her brothers' fallen body, she eyed the man named Vaas with immense fear. Petrified momentarily, she was unsure of what she should do next. Should she heed his advice and run?
"What the fuck. Are you deaf? I said get the fuck out of here, you stupid bitch!"
With instinct finally forcing her to her feet, she quickly left her brother's body behind, as well as his killer who's taunting screams continued behind her as she made a mad dash for the thick, green foliage of the wild jungles of Rook island.