"Mr. Magnum?" Tony said softly, afraid that the men might still be within earshot.
Magnum's good eye cracked open at the sound of his voice. For a second he didn't say or do anything, just peered at Tony. Then he closed his eye tightly and opened it again to squint at Tony.
"Tony? Didn't I tell you to run?" He didn't sound angry, just a little puzzled about why the boy wasstanding there in front of him.
"Well, yeah, but I couldn't just leave you here," Tony said simply, like thatshould explain it all.
"What am I going to tell your parents when they ask me why you're dead?" Magnum asked in exasperation, blinking at him, waiting for an answer.
Tony didn't want to get into the fact that his parents wouldn't care if he died, so he changed the subject, "We've got to get out of here before the bad guys come back," he said.
Tony was pretty sure that Magnum knew he was changing the subject, but he let it go and nodded, wincing as the movement caused him pain, "Yes, we do. I was working on that."
It had looked to him that Magnum was pretty well stuck, butTony decided it probably wasn't a good idea to mention that. He swept the room with his gaze trying to figure out how best to help.
"Tony?"
Not seeing anything useful, he turned back to Magnum expectantly. The older man gave a little nod at the case still sitting on the table, the knives inside gleaming.
"Do you think you can use one of those to cut my hands loose?" he asked Tony softly.
Tony gulped at the thought of picking up one of the wicked-looking knives. They fascinated him in a morbid sort of way. And, now that the suggestion had been made, they seemed to fill his vision. They beckoned to him, drawing him forward towards them. He ran a hand across one of the hilts, it was wooden and smooth under his fingertips. He could just imagine what one of those knives could do, what wounds they would inflict; if the bad men came back and found him there, what they would with them.
The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach threatened to rise. He gulped again, trying to push it back down, his gaze fastened on the knives.
"Tony?" Magnum's call brought him back to the urgency of the situation.
He curled his fingers around one of the knives and picked it up. It felt large and clumsy in his small hand. He almost dropped it, catching it with his left hand, cutting across the palm of his hand. The blood welled immediately, dropping in a steady trickle of crimson onto the hard wood floor.
Taking a firmer hold onto the knife, he rubbed his bloody palm against his jeans and stuck his wounded hand into his pocket before he moved back to Magnum's side. Already the wound was beginning to throb and the fear in his stomach was beginning to churn. He ignored both as best he could while he studied Magnum's bonds, trying to figure out the best way to free him.
The bad guys had used duct tape to secure Magnum to the arms of the wooden chair, a match to the one sitting in the hallway. Idly it came to him that his mom would be so mad at the scuffs and the blood now marring it. He pushed the thought away, angry that he was letting himself get distracted when he had a job that needed to be done. The bad guys had bound Magnum tightly and Tony was going to have to be careful to cut the bonds with the large, unwieldy knife or he was going to hurt his friend.
Magnum must have seen his reluctance to start. "You can do it, Tony," he said encouragingly as Tony slid the knife slowly into a little space between tape and chair and bare human flesh. He worked gently at the tape, but the knife was so sharp. Tony was aghast when he slipped as the knife cut faster through the layers of tape than he had anticipated and the blade pierced Magnum's skin. As with his own hand, a line of red sprang up in the blade's wake.
"It's okay, Tony," Magnum assured him. "It's not deep. Keep going."
Tony backed away a little. "I'm going to hurt you," he objected. He didn't like the way his voice was shaky and weak.
"Hey, you can't do anything worse than the bad guys already did. You've got to hurry, we don't have much time."
Tony knew he was right. The bad guys could come back at any time and he had to have Magnum freeso they could begone by then. His good hand was trembling now, but he laid the knife against the tape again. He realized that he needed to use his other hand to steady it. He tookhiswounded hand outof his pocket. It was still bleeding, but there was nothing he could do, he needed both hands if he wasn't going to hurt Magnum again.
With both hands on the hilt, Tony had better control of the knife and he was able to keep it from moving too quickly while he worked on the tape. He knew that it would have taken Magnum only half a second to cut himself loose, but he was a kid. And he was afraid of hurting the man. He had to be careful. But he also had to hurry because they didn't know when the bad guys were going to come back.
"It's alright, Tony, take your time." Magnum must have known how nervous he was, but he didn't sound worried at all. In fact, he sounded like he trusted Tony. Which was a new experience. Not many people had trusted him in his life. He thought he liked it, he just wished he could find that out in less stressful circumstances.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the tape parted. The bad guys must have used a whole role of the grey tape, they were taking no chances that their prisoner was going to get loose. It seemed to Tony that it took forever, and his fingers were slick with his own blood by the time he finished, but finally the last strands of the grey sticky stuff holding Magnum's right arm captive was cut and Tony pulled it away. Magnum winced as the tape also pulled away arm hairs, but he didn't complain.
Awkwardly he hugged Tony, "You did good," he assured him. Taking the knife from Tony's slack fingers, he finished cutting himself free. His first item of business once he was free was to inspect Tony's own cut.
It was deep, blood still welled from it and the throbbing was getting worse.
"This is going to need stitches," Magnum mused, almost to himself. "Your parents are going to be so pissed at me."
Tony was beginning to feel detached from the whole thing, as if he were watching on television as Magnum cut off a piece of his shirt to wrap tightly around Tony's hand. Tony winced a little as it pressed into his palm, but he didn't complain. If Magnum could endure pain, so could he. Then Magnum used the duct tape that he had so recently been bound with to secure it firmly in place around his hand. "That'll have to hold you until I can get you to the hospital."
Tony just nodded, wondering what was going to hold Magnum together until they got to the hospital, but he didn't ask because Magnum was already moving away. Tony just stood, holding his wounded hand close, as Magnum checked out the room trying to find them a way out.
I am always suprised at how a story grows. I mean this has to end soon, right? Tony was only missing for two days!
Anyway, to be continued...
Comments and reviews are always welcome.