(Ugh, finally, the site is working again!) And here's the chapter with Joe's retelling of his escape.

Don't own anything, except for an OC that comes up.

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CHAPTER 6

SIX HOURS EARLIER

He knew they'd been driving for a long time, hours and hours, though not enough to amount to a full day. By now he'd discovered that his captors hadn't tied his blindfold as tightly as they should've, and he could see over the top of it if he tilted his head down far enough. By some stroke of luck, he'd also found a sharp, broken edge jutting from the back seat he was leaning against and was still rubbing his bound wrists against it. Though his arms were sore from moving in such cramped and restricted conditions, he kept at it and knew the rope must be fairly close to being frayed enough for him to break. Meanwhile, he kept a surreptitious eye on the goon that was 'watching' him, making sure the thug didn't catch on to his movements.

A thin sheen of sweat had developed over his face from nervousness and strain, and he struggled to control it. He glanced outside over the brim of his blindfold, and noted it was dark now.

After another fifteen laborious minutes, the monotonous hum of the vehicle suddenly changed as it slowed. He stopped working on his bonds for a moment so he could gauge what was going on. The vehicle slowed further and turned, and he caught the flash of a gas station sign outside the window. He tensed, knowing that if he was going to try an escape, now would be the time. He blindly felt the ropes around his wrists and decided they were breakable now.

He waited for the telltale bounce that meant the men were getting out of the vehicle and with a sharp, quick jerk snapped the ropes apart, then loosened his blindfold even more, but kept it over his eyes. He readjusted himself so his hands were back together, hidden behind his back, and was pretending to be asleep when he heard the trunk door in front of him open. The place must have been pretty empty for someone to dare to check on him.

Joe held his breath, biding his time until just the right moment, hoping to have the element of surprise. He heard only one set of footsteps near the back of the vehicle. Even better.

He felt a sharp prod in his side accompanied by a harsh voice. "Wake up, kid." He didn't move, and only when the hands came back to shake him more violently did he explode. He lashed out with his hands and grabbed the man's arms, yanking him forward. He brought his knee up and thrust it into the man's neck before shoving him outward and slamming him into the ground. Fast as lightning, Joe was over him and running away, his blindfold having fallen down around his neck. He stumbled at first, his legs tingling from being in the same position for so long, but he regained his balance, pulled out his gag as he went, and took off faster than he could ever remember, fueled by adrenaline. If he didn't get away now, he never would.

He could hear shouts and now gunshots behind him, and he started to duck and weave to make himself a more difficult target, aiming for the forest ahead of him. When he reached the trees, his gait didn't slow. He had to lose them. He hoped that the gunshots alerted someone in the gas station and that they called the police. If nothing else, at least the criminals might not risk going after him with the authorities so close.

After what seemed like hours he finally stopped running and doubled over, gasping for breath and trembling from his exertion. He was too weak for this, not having eaten enough in months. After a few minutes he caught his breath and looked around to gain his bearings. He squinted in the darkness and saw a break in the trees to his right and headed for it, hoping to get a sense of where he was. It turned out the opening was the highway, and he could see the lights of the gas station about a half-mile down the road to his right. Unfortunately, in his state of constant weariness he hadn't gotten as far as he hoped.

Still not sure where he was, Joe crossed the currently still highway and started walking away from the gas station, not wanting to chance being caught by the men again.

After only a couple minutes of walking he caught the sound of a car roaring up the road from behind him. On a whim, he stepped to the edge of the road and waved his arms to get the driver's attention. The car slowed but raced past him. He let his arms fall dejectedly until he saw the car roll to a stop on the side of the highway about a hundred feet away.

Sighing in relief he jogged towards the dark blue sedan as an average-sized man of about thirty got out. Joe slowed, not wanting to alarm the man as well as because of an ingrained sense of caution, and held up his hands in innocence. The dark-haired man studied the scruffy-looking boy before speaking. "Hey, kid, you need a ride?"

Joe smiled placidly, "Yeah, maybe. Do you know which way Bayport is?"

The man nodded, "Yeah, it's about thirty miles that way." He jerked his thumb towards the way he was going.

Slightly surprised that he was so close to home, Joe's smile grew. "Really? Well, uh, do you think you could give me a lift? Mr...?"

The man eyed the younger one suspiciously, who was dressed in a nondescript, disheveled gray sweatshirt and loose, matching sweatpants. "My name is Mark. Yeah, I could drive you, but only about fifteen miles, then I turn off."

"Hi, Mark. My name is Joe. And that's okay, it's better than nothing. You wouldn't happen to have a phone on you, would you?" he questioned hopefully.

Mark shook his head. "Sorry, I actually forgot it at home a few days ago." He regained a somewhat distrustful look. "What happened to you? Why are you all the way out here? There's a gas station just back there down the road, you know."

Joe held up a hand. "Trust me, you wouldn't believe me if I told you." The corners of his mouth turned down as he glanced nervously back the way he'd come. "No, I can't go back there." Not wanting to get into it, especially not with a stranger, he deftly sidestepped the subject, all the while still trying to act reassuring. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna shoot you or anything." He chuckled weakly. "No pockets, see?" He dramatically turned around in a full circle.

Mark's lips twitched and he snorted. "Alright kid, I won't ask. I'm sure you'll be in enough trouble with your parents as it is." Or the police, he added silently. Nevertheless, he motioned toward the car guardedly. "But you ride in the back, okay?"

The eighteen-year-old acknowledged the offer gratefully. If Frank were here and knew he was hitchhiking... "Thanks, and deal." He grabbed the handle of the rear door and sat himself down on the seat, diagonal to the man who was now in the driver's seat. He settled in wearily, knowing he soon had a long walk ahead of him. "You're a life saver, man. You're probably the only one who'll be driving out here for the rest of the night." He saw the time on the dashboard clock; it was about 9:30.

"Yeah, maybe so." Glancing in the rear-view mirror, Mark noticed the boy leaning his head back and resting his eyes. He decided to leave the kid in peace for now, assuming he'd need all the energy he could get. He felt sorry for the young man, he'd probably have to walk the remaining fifteen miles to Bayport. He'd been right about there being a slim chance of anyone driving by, here in the middle of nowhere, much less someone who'd pick him up. Mark would drive him to Bayport himself, but he was already pressed for time; his flight left in less than two hours. He wasn't sure himself why he'd trusted the kid, but the man guessed it was because he just hadn't seemed like the dangerous, psycho killer type. Simply a guy fallen on some misfortune, whatever it was.

After what seemed like mere seconds, Joe felt the car slow and opened his eyes as Mark said. "Hey, Joe? Sorry, you gotta get out now, if you want to get home."

Joe stretched then leaned forward and held out his hand. "Thank you, Mark. I owe you. I wish I could pay you back."

The dark-haired man smiled and shook the boy's hand firmly. He liked this kid. "Don't mention it." Making a split-second decision, he added, "And my name's Jensen. Mark Jensen. Look me up sometime."

Smiling back appreciatively, Joe withdrew his hand. "Joe Hardy. And I might just do that, Mark. Thanks again." With that, the blond-haired young man opened the door, stepped out, and walked around the back of the navy blue car. As the vehicle pulled away, he gave a little wave and saw Jensen return it. Joe waited until the car turned at the next right and disappeared from sight before sighing and beginning his long trek.

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And that's it for today. I'll probably update sometime tomorrow. This story is close to the end, so either be sad or celebrate, lol. Thanks for reading (and reviewing)!