Starting a Chain of Events

The strange sound was getting closer. It was hard to explain what it was at the time because I had absolutely nothing to compare it to. It sounded like a generator? A mechanical "whirring" sound? It sounded like something chopping through the air continuously. I now know that what I heard was "Rotor blades." But I sat there hearing the noise get closer and closer until it was almost deafening, and sounded right above me. I creaked open the barn door seeing the trees swaying in the wind. Dirt and snow kicked up all around the area. I looked up to see a big flying machine high above me. The outline was only showed by bright blinking lights of green and red. The metal body looked like a big insect and had two short wings on both sides that held two faint glowing circles continuously whipping around each wing. The blades of the flying machine hovered in the air above me and I found myself caught in a trance.

I wasn't scared or… I honestly didn't even know what to think. I just stared up at the air machine in awe until, something malfunctioned. The "Rotor Blades" on the left side suddenly gave a loud *pop* and black smoke poured out of the left engine outlined by the twinkling stars. Suddenly, the left side halted altogether, and the aircraft fell spinning out of the sky. The aircraft struggled for balance and bright blinding balls of fire shot out of the top in all directions as it tumbled to the ground. The fireballs illuminated the area as they gently fell to the earth. I watched the aircraft rock to the ground until the tall trees concealed it and no more than a second later; there was a loud *CRASH*.

The flying machine's noise fell silent, but the distinct "chopping" sound echoed into the distance. I noticed the lights of Klamath were all turned on by this point and there was a giant black cloud coming from the crash site. I again didn't even know what to think, but with the rise of that black cloud, I was brought out of my trance and back to reality. I rushed back inside and fumbled in my bag to load the 10mm auto rifle, readying to depart, when I felt a blunt object on the back of my head.

I faintly came back to consciousness, feeling two large men dragging me by the arms and vision obscured by a bag on my head. I knew it immediately, the unknown "Fat Jimbo" got me. I looked through a tiny hole in the sack on my head to see that I was in the Trapper Town part of Klamath. I noticed the sun was illuminating the area, giving the town a glow of dawn. Being dragged, I heard the trappers and townspeople talking about the flying machine last night. Most didn't even notice or care about the thugs dragging a captive through the streets. As I looked around trying to see more things through the tiny hole, the thugs carrying me took notice.

I heard the familiar voice of one thug say menacingly, "Look whose awake!"

I turned my head around in the bag trying to see my captors and struggled in their grip. I felt another sharp blow on my head that didn't knock me out, but definitely made my vision fuzzy.

When I finally regained myself and took control of my senses, I noticed I was tied firmly to a chair. Through the bag, I smelled the musty air of a prewar building, and concluded I was indoors. I sat there with my head hung down and eyes staring into the cloth of the bag. I stared into the fibers recollecting my entire life. I knew I should have stayed home with a likely cannibalistic family, at least there I felt safe, even if we were probably eating people. Six years later, and this happened. I wondered how exactly these thugs were going to kill me. They said that they needed me alive, but I was almost 100% certain that was just so they could torture me beforehand. It was then that I regained my sense of hearing and heard wheezing breaths a couple feet in front of me. Semi startled at the bizarre noise, I reflexively looked up.

I heard a grunting low voice say, "He's Awake! Good!"

The bag was ripped off my head, and a few hairs along with it. Flinching from the pain and squinting to the sudden light of day through the windows, I saw a very fat man sitting at a desk across from me. I don't mean to say he was fat to be rude, just to explain that the man was ginormous even at first glance (No rude intentions... at first). Before studying my captor, I quickly glanced around the room for a way out. The same two thugs were behind me grinning. Past them was a door, there were two windows on the right wall, and a plain wall with scorched paintings on the left. Between me and the fat guy was a cluttered desk, and on the floor were a couple rats scurrying about.

The fat guy, "Fat Jimbo" locked eyes with me and his scowl peered deep into my soul. He wore a tattered tan suit with a striped tie loosely hung around his neck, but I couldn't exactly tell where his neck ended, and his face began. His scowl strangely showed just how fat he was by emphasizing the folds and creases of his face. Despite his lower body being concealed by the desk, I knew why he had henchmen; It looked like he could barely move (Again, not to be rude... At first). He looked at me even angrier when my face gave an astonished expression at the thought of him walking around town. I let out a small chuckle thinking about how all the potholes around town were probably from him. At that, he started our chat.

He shouted angrily and grunting, "What's so FANNY!?"

I swear I felt bits of food hit my face and said, "I just realized why you need thugs..."

Before he could answer, I asked half curious, and half amused, "Can you even walk?"

I felt another blow on the back of my head and Fat Jimbo said, "I never knew Sean the squatter was such a facking comedian!?"

I smiled but wanted to rub my pounding headache. I said, "Well, there's not too many things to laugh about in this life... Did it really take you guys almost a week to find me?"

He gave a gross looking grin and said, "We knew you found our guys the second you entered town. I spent the past few days deeply considering all the ways we're gonna fack you up… Wanna know what else I did during that time?"

I asked still feeling weak from the blows to my head, "What?"

He leaned back in his chair, "I organized your sale to our boys in The Den. Metzger runs the slaving operation down south and would love a decently fed mixed boy such as yourself. I came up here a few months back to start up an operation over here."

I asked, "So you guys are slavers? How haven't the trappers fucked you up yet? And how the Hell did you get here? Isn't the Den like 50 miles to the southeast? Is it all downhill? If you rolled here I could believe it! Haha!"

I braced for another whack on the head, but the gross man smiled and said, "I'll let you get your laughs out now. I never thought that the local squatter would nearly fack up our operation here, but we worked it out with Metzger. We got a good deal organizing the sale of 'missing' trappers here in town..."

He paused and leaned forward to look into my eyes as he continued, "A team from the Den will be here in a few days and that Vertibird crash last night provided the perfect opportunity to get that scumbag Vic the Trader and move some of our recent 'acquisitions'…"

I interrupted, curious about Vic but more about the flying machine crash. I blurted out, "Wait! What's a 'Vertibird'?"

The fat man grew a look of shock like he just revealed something he wasn't supposed to. His face rapidly turned to one of forced amusement as he said, "Haha, this facking guy doesn't even know what a Vertibird is!"

Letting out a slight laugh, he quickly changed the subject, "I know you tried to buy off my boys, and thanks for being stupid enough to hide in the only abandoned barn in the area."

I said sarcastically but still thinking about the pain in my head, "I didn't wanna make it too hard for you guys. You ain't too good at tracking people for a bunch of slavers."

(I feel like I'm allowed to shame his weight given the situation I was in, So...) The fat thing snarled, "I know you sold the other shotgun too, but don't worry, we'll get our money's worth out of you…"

I remembered what he said and interrupted by asking, "Why do you want Vic the Trader?"

He said, "Metzger has got beef with him, and that's all you need to know. You know? I'm glad you got to have some fun with my money the past few days. That was the last bit of fun you'll ever have for the rest of your life. You know what'll happen when you get to The Den?"

I answered his question, "More hookers and beer at your expense?"

The fat blob's face grew meaner than I thought possible, "We'll see how long your sense of humor lasts as a good for nothing slave giving handies to Metzger's thirsty boys just to earn your keep!"

I'm not exactly sure where my sense of humor came from, but in those moments of tremendous fear and helplessness, I couldn't stop making jokes. I asked sincerely with a grin, "Will they at least buy me dinner first?"

He slammed his fist on the desk and shouted at his thugs, "I can't take this arrogant, squatting, thieving sack of shit anymore! GET HIM OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

The thugs/slavers untied me from the chair and covered my face with the bag. I felt them lift me out of the chair and pull me to the door as they clamped a set of handcuffs on my wrists behind my back. Despite being blinded and muffled by the bag, I said aloud, "Nice to meet you Fat Jimbo! Maybe we could go for a jog around town sometime?"

I was dragged out of the room stumbling over my feet hurriedly and heard the blob shout in anger. I was pulled out of the building and I tried to focus on where they were taking me. I assumed that I was in the Trapper Town part of Klamath and they dragged me around to the side of their compound. They dragged me for almost five minutes until I felt one of the arms let go of me and the sound of metal clanking together and a rusty door creaking open. Just then, they pulled the bag off my head again and shoved me violently into a small round building.

I fell to the dirt floor and tried to regain myself as the doors slammed shut behind me and the sound of a lock echoed throughout the enclosure. I looked around; I was inside what looked like a grain silo. I sat there in the center and briefly looked for some kind of way out as I brought the restraints under my legs and to my chest. Metal walls were 10 feet away all around me, and not even any daylight peaked through the cracks. I collapsed my head to the dirt and looked up at the sunlight entering the silo from a hole in the top. A small ladder up to the hole was cut off about 30 feet above me. I laid there on the ground staring up at the sunlight and fidgeting with my shackles feeling helpless but strangely relaxed. The exhaustion of last night was really starting to take its toll on me, and I drifted off to sleep with thoughts of the big flying machine apparently called a "Vertibird."