A/N: Thanks to all of you who offered to beta me. I really appreciate it!
RainbowsnStars helped me with this chap. Thanks again!
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Cars.
Where would we be without them?
A car is anyone´s pride and it´s a symbol of a certain standard.
But not everyone can afford one.
The ones who can should call themselves lucky.
Me, lucky? Don't think so!
Cars.
They are designed to make you feel safe. To let you reach distances men only dared to dream of years ago. And last but not least, they are designed to give you freedom. To stretch your arms up to heaven and feel the way ahead of you as well as the miles left behind you.
But, what if that freedom was taken away? Would you then still use the words freedom and car in the same sentence? Or would the association be a different one?
That of fright or fear?
That of indisposition?
All of those and then some were feelings that Greg associated with his car at the moment.
Staring straight ahead, the road stretched like a giant snake before him. He was trailing along the way uncertain of where it would lead or end.
His sense of direction was gone since he didn´t know this area at all.
"You see that barn over there? Stop there."
Only a second gone by and the task was already carried out.
Greg craned his neck to take a look out of the windshield. Dusk was already setting in, making it harder to see. They had landed in a pretty isolated area a few miles out of town.
Several vacated buildings stretched in either direction with no signs to indicate any life.
Welcome to no man´s land.
As he turned his head, he could see bright spots of light dancing in the distance.
Vegas.
With people milling about who had no idea what was about to happen to him.
An old barn appeared to grow out of the ground before them. It was looming over them, mocking them both with its shadows.
"Get out." Greg felt the gun being shifted away from his neck.
Greg slowly opened the door and stepped out of his car. Dread rose inside him of what was to come next. The gravel under his feet crunched slightly as he turned to face his kidnapper. Hands raised, Greg stood before him.
You stand before me now we stare eye to eye
Before another second clicks away one of us will die
You reach for your metal as I reach for mine
The sound of bullets flyin' through the air, is followed by a cry
And they're cryin'
What will we do? What will we say?
When it's the end of this game that we play?
Will we crumble into the dust my friend?
Or will we start this game over again?
Shit. I can´t go out like this. It can´t end like this.
He was starting to tremble. Hot tears were welling up in his eyes. He took a step back, away from the danger, one step closer to safety. He was put to a sudden stop when he heard a soft click.
"Don't move."
His eyes strayed to the ground. He wouldn´t look. He just couldn´t.
The gun was pointing steadily in his direction. Seconds ticked by with Greg waiting for the inevitable to happen.
No! I won´t go out like this! Fight! It´s your life, damn it! Do you want to live? DO YOU?!
As he raised his eyes to look at his kidnapper, they were bright with determination.
I can do this. Just try to wrestle the gun away. C´mon.
The choice wasn't his in the end. He was so focussed on the person in front of him that he didn´t realize someone was sneaking up on him.
Didn't realize that the other person had raised his gun behind his back.
Only felt the pain as the cold metal of the gun met his hot flesh, slamming into the right side of his head with such force that his head was whipped to the opposite side. Greg felt himself falling. To him, it was happening in slow motion as the world shifted. Black spots danced before his eyes. But he didn´t feel the impact of his body on the ground, didn´t see the dust rise in a cloud around him.
His face met the ground with a sickening thud.
The dust reached into his lungs, invading them. He thought he was about to choke when, after a couple of seconds, a hacking cough escaped his lips. He couldn´t catch his breath, though, and continued coughing for a few moments.
A shadowy figure loomed over him. Greg squinted up at him, only to be caught with an unexpected kick to his ribs.
Unconsciousness was calling him into a world of no pain or thought.
His eyes were drifting shut.
Before he lost consciousness completely, he could hear the muffled ringing of his cell phone. He tried to reach into his pocket and pull it out. His uncoordinated efforts were too slow a process however; when another shadow moved into his line of sight, he felt his left hand being crushed under an unbearable weight. Spikes of pain travelled up his arm in hot waves of pure agony. His breathing was coming in short gasps. He tried to cry out but another kick into his ribs rendered him silent. The last thing he was aware of was a raspy voice that whispered into his ear, "sleep tight," before his world went black.
The young man lays alone but fastened to the ground
The sounds of fleeting feet and a cryin' eye will be his last sound
What did we gain from all of this? Now was it worth a life?
We've thrown all our hopes away and set our dreams aside
Now we're cryin'
What will we do? What will we say?
When it's the end of this game that we play?
Will we crumble into the dust my friend?
Or will we start this game over again?
It's coming back to me
It's coming back to me
What will we do? What will we say?
When it's the end of this game that we play?
Will we crumble into the dust my friend?
Or will we start this game over again?
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Rest assured, Greg is not dead! You´ll see in the next chap. The lyrics are from 3 Doors Down´s song "Dangerous Game".
