Prompt(s) Filled: 5. Running Out of Air, 9. Caught in a Storm, 19. Knees Buckling, 27. Stumbling, 31. A Light at the End of the Tunnel
Gordon had never been more terrified, but he couldn't show it.
He had to stay still and keep his breathing even, when instead he could feel his lungs burn with the need to panic. His heart wanted to hammer out of his chest, but he had to keep it down.
When he had felt hands harshly grab him and he was thrown over someone's shoulder, he allowed himself to slowly suck in a breath. Hopefully no one would notice his steady breaths that he needed to catch before his lungs exploded, because he couldn't hold his breath for any longer.
He breathed steadily to keep his heart rate slow and hopefully undetectable enough to get through this. In through the nose, and then slowly exhale so the man carrying him couldn't feel his chest expanding and deflating.
He felt them walking, and each step jostled his aches and pains. His arms felt fuzzy and numb, and were filled with shards of pain as they suffered without the blood flow. It took all he had to keep himself from wincing with every movement.
After what felt like a long while of walking down the never-ending hallways, Gordon felt cool air hit his face for the first time in weeks.
He didn't think they were outside quite yet, but they were likely in a room that was connected to the outside. He had to resist the urge to just struggle out of the grip and run. They were so close, he couldn't mess it up, even if he was overwhelmed by the need to get out of there.
As a door slammed behind them, Gordon could hear various voices echo around them, along with the sound of engines running. The cold air along with the distant noises made him feel like he was in an expansive room, and it gave him the same impression of being in an underground parking lot.
They walked a little further, and then he felt himself be abruptly thrown down. He hit something hard, and he hoped that the loud slam it made muffled the grunt of pain he couldn't keep in when all his injuries were jostled.
His body was sprawled there, ragdolled across something cold like metal, and unable to move or curl around his wounds as he played the part of a dead body.
"What's all this about?" Gordon's stomach dropped as he heard the familiar voice. Those grunts might have believed he was dead, but he doubted the leader was so stupid.
"Got infected. He's dead, we checked." He didn't recognise the voice, but presumed it was the man who had carried him here.
Gordon felt his world rock and realised that what he was laying in must have been a vehicle, possibly the back of a van, and someone was climbing in next to him to make it jostle.
He felt the presence of someone looking over him and could hear their breath as they hovered close, and he stopped his own breathing. He desperately wanted to see what was happening, and he had to resist the urge to open his eyes.
All of a sudden, a shoe hit his chest and forced him back into the wall of the van. Gordon clenched his teeth to stop himself from crying out, but he couldn't stop the shaky breath that escaped his throat. He waited in agony to see if anyone had heard.
The man huffed.
"Pathetic."
The van rocked again as the man jumped out, and Gordon heard his feet land on the floor.
"You know where to dispose of him."
Those were the last words Gordon heard before the doors slammed shut.
There were muffled words spoken through the metal, and Gordon feared what they were saying in case they had figured out his ploy, but he couldn't hear anything clear.
Then, after the voices had stopped, he heard another door open and close as presumably someone got into the driver's seat. There was a rumbling beneath him, and then movement as the van started to drive.
Gordon's head banged against the wall as they took a sharp turn. He internally groaned and wanted to tell the man to take it easy around the corners, but he couldn't. He wasn't even able to brace himself in case he was being watched, so instead had to endure being thrown around like a ragdoll.
He was concerned with how far out they were driving. The further he got from where he had been kept, the harder it was going to be to find it later to rescue Fuse.
He tried his best to keep track of how long they were driving, the turns they were taking, and the roads they were on. The trip was bumpy and he was thrown against the floor every time the van was jostled, which sent shards of pain through his whole body, but it gave him the impression they weren't on a main road and were off the beaten track.
However, the constant pain made it hard for him to keep track of the time. Everytime he started to count, another shot of agony made him lose his place and he had to start again.
He had just counted to a minute when another jolt had him biting his tongue to keep in the cry. But wait, was he not just at two minutes a second ago? And he was sure he reached five minutes at some point.
Another bump sent him flying and landing on his leg, forgetting his thoughts again. If his eyes weren't already closed, then he was sure the white hot pain would've had his vision blacking out for a moment.
It took him several seconds of steady breaths, whilst the sharp daggers faded to just stabbing throbs, for him to realise they had come to a stop. He froze, wondering where they had ended up.
This was the moment of truth, if he had gotten away with it or not. They could have been driving him out here to bury him, or punish him and kill him anyway.
Either way, he was prepared to put up a fight. He did not want to come this far only to fall at the final hurdle.
The back doors of the van opened, and Gordon was harshly pulled out of the vehicle and into a bridal carry. His head lolled back and his limbs hung lifeless from the arms holding him.
The first thing that met his ears was the sound of rushing water. Gordon felt his heart jump in delight at the possibilities, but before he could prepare himself, he was suddenly flying through the air.
He couldn't even suck in a breath before he hit the cold water. The shock hit his body, and he was left tumbling through the currents as he waited for his mind to catch up.
His arms. They were stinging and he needed to get the full feeling back. The water had loosened the fabric, and he feebly clawed at one shoulder, his arm half asleep, before he managed to slip the fabric off.
As the blood rushed back, he moved onto the other. He still hadn't resurfaced and his lungs burned with the need for air, but with arms that didn't want to work yet, he couldn't stop himself from being thrown around beneath the surface.
Just as he pulled the other piece of fabric off, he slammed into something hard, which had him involuntarily drawing in a breath.
However, it wasn't air that hit his throat, but water.
His chest burned, but finally he could kick himself up to the surface.
He gasped as cold air hit his face. He blinked past the water in his eyes as he looked around, but all he could see was the rush of trees as the river pulled him quickly along.
He couldn't see anyone around, so he assumed he was far enough away from the man who had brought him here and he could drop the act, and start to fight for his life.
The water sucked him down again, and he felt hidden branches catch his clothing and scratch his skin. It took him a disorientating moment to work out which way the surface was, but he could only quickly draw another breath in before he was under once more.
He was going to need to find something to grab onto. He felt around, but everytime he thought he'd managed to grasp onto something, the currents ripped him away.
His injured leg feebly kicked beneath him, and he knew his strength was at its last threads. He was going to die for real if he couldn't get out of there.
When the current next forced him under, he couldn't stop himself from slamming headfirst into a rock.
Like a switch, everything went black.
A violent cough ripped him awake.
He blinked sluggishly as he choked on what felt like his own lungs. His face was against something hard and went, and he slowly lifted his head to see where he was.
It was dark. When did it become night? He lifted a hand to his pounding skull, and heard the splash of water as he lifted the limb.
He frowned, and looked around to see the moonlight hit the surface of the water surrounding him.
He was in a river that calmly rippled as he moved, and his memories came back to him.
Right. He needed help.
He was slumped against a rock. His upper body out of the water, but the rest of him going numb from the cold. He glanced around, until he found the bank of the river nearby.
He pushed himself off the rock, gasping as the freezing water hit the parts of him that had been out of the water. He waded over to the dry land, the river coming up to his chest.
Getting out of the water was harder than he thought it would be. The water pulled at his clothes like it had a fist in the fabric and wanted to drag him back down. All of his energy was gone, his arms felt like jelly and his legs didn't want to work.
He grasped at the strands of grass on the bank and pulled himself out of the river. The mud was slick beneath him, and his upper body did most of the work as he dragged himself onto dry land.
As soon as his feet were on the grass, he slumped down onto his back and took deep, panting breaths. He wanted to just lay right there and go to sleep. Nothing sounded better right now. He closed his eyes.
A splash of water hit his already wet cheek. He scrunched his face up at the sensation. He was content to ignore it, but another hit his face.
He opened his eyes as the loud patter of rain surrounded him. It picked up quickly, and soon the noise was thunderous as droplets of water hit the river.
He needed to get up.
With a groan, he pushed himself up onto his hands. He didn't need to be quiet anymore, so he held nothing back as a blood curdling cry erupted from his throat as he got to his feet.
Pain flashed up his leg, and he put all of his weight on his good leg. He felt dizzy, and the dark night swirled around him as he tried to get his bearings.
He had no idea where to go. He listened for any noises that could lead to help, but the rain was loud and the wind had picked up.
But then he heard it, as well as saw it.
The sound of wheels on tarmac splashing through the rain. The light of headlights as they sped across from him.
The brief flash of light gave Gordon a better idea of where he was. The bank of grass carried on up a slight hill, and at the top was a road.
It wasn't that far, would maybe take him only a minute to walk any other day.
But today it was the longest walk of his life.
He took one step, and the pain was so bad his vision doubled and a wave of nausea washed over him.
Lightning flashed overhead at the same time he went crashing to the ground.
He emptied his stomach as river water and yesterday's meal spilled over the grass. His forearms wobbled as they held him up, and he felt rain hit his back as he hunched over.
When he felt he couldn't be sick anymore, he tried again. He pushed himself up onto his feet, and took another step.
He was more prepared this time, and managed to make it a few more steps before he tripped.
A cry emitted past his lips and he wanted to curl up right there, in the rain and only a few steps away from his own vomit.
But then Fuse's face flashed in his mind. He needed to find someone so he could help the man.
Gordon clenched his teeth together, and pushed himself up again.
Thunder crackled above. His hair was plastered to his forehead, and he shivered as wind blew at his wet clothes. But he powered on, staggering through the grass and up the bank.
He was starting to think he'd make it, but just before he reached the tip of the bank, his knees buckled and he crumpled to the floor.
He tried to get up again, but no matter how much he yelled at his body to just move, it didn't want to cooperate.
There was a noise and a light getting closer, but still Gordon couldn't get himself off the wet, muddy ground.
"He-" His voice was raspy and weak. "Help…"
He managed to weakly raise one arm and reach out to the car that he could just about see drive past. It was so close, but too far out of reach. The light flashed by, and then it was gone.
He wouldn't be seen here. He was still too far from the road and it was too dark. The rain continued to fall and the storm continued to roar. Any sound he made wouldn't be heard.
A long moment passed as his eyes started to droop and sleep clawed at him. He was willing to give in, but then thunder and lightning shocked him awake.
His eyes widened, and he realised what he was so close to doing.
No. He was not giving up. He would not come this far just to have his final moments at the side of a road.
One limb at a time, he pushed up from the grass. He got to his palms, then his knees, and finally his feet.
He didn't allow himself to stop as he finally staggered to the end of the grass and reached gravel.
There was another light in the distance, and Gordon couldn't fall now. He stumbled forward and into the road, his arms raised to wave them down.
The light was blinding and bright as it washed over him, getting closer and brighter every second.
"Help," he croaked again, but it was drowned out by the sound of screeching brakes and the thump as something slammed into his body.