Run and Hide
Disclaimer: Same basic words here; if it's in the show, I don't own it.
A/N: Seems like I'm on a roller coaster for chapter length; it's back to short again. Anyway, thanks for reading! :) I wanted to answer Iris' question about tracking cellphones - I don't know if every cellphone has that capability, but since some definitely do the answer to your question is yes, they could have. Truth is I didn't think of it right away LOL. I'm really bad at that, it seems. ;) Thanks for the question! :)
Onto the story, we're back to Jamie again. You go ahead and read... I'm just gonna stay over here... (O_o)
Chapter 6
Jamie stood under the window, glaring at it. The daylight was getting weaker; it must be early evening. Jake and his cohorts hadn't been in to see him since Jamie had nearly been strangled to death. Jamie felt grateful for that solitude, but couldn't help but worry about what was to come.
For the last hour he'd tried to figure out how to get up to reach the window. There wasn't a stick of furniture in the room and the window was a good two or three feet above his head. He found he could jump high enough to get his hands on the sill but it did no good to dangle a couple of feet off the ground and the wall was too smooth to climb. The window appeared to be solid, too. He'd have to break it to even attempt to get out through it, and he had nothing to break it with. It was small and narrow enough that he was positive he'd get stuck partway through. Besides, jumping hurt his head.
He sighed angrily, sitting against the wall, his arms propped on his knees. He ran his hands through his hair, cringing as his fingers raked over the dried patch of blood and bruises over his temple. He swallowed thickly, grateful that the hit hadn't been any lower. He still felt dizzy from it.
It was stuffy in the room with very little air movement. He'd abandoned his jacket hours ago, leaving it on the floor to use as a cushion under his head. He was thirsty, bordering on dehydrated, and his stomach growled continuously. He'd finished the last of the water in the water bottle a couple of hours previous, and his only food had been what he had eaten Saturday afternoon. He'd toured his small dungeon, finding a tiny bathroom with a sink and a toilet in it, albeit dirty, and was amazed that there was a small bar of soap by the sink and a dingy facecloth and towel hanging from the rack. Used or not, they were better than nothing. He'd contemplated filling the water bottle with water from the sink, but it was cloudy and contained a brown tint and an odd smell that turned him off. He figured facing dehydration was a better option than possibly giving himself a parasite. He could wash while holding his breath and refrain from thinking about the colour of the water, but he refused to ingest it.
Feeling a need to move around, he walked into the tiny bathroom. He peered into the dusty mirror above the sink, squinting in the dim light. He could see finger-shaped bruises on his neck, still tender to touch. His throat wasn't too sore, though, so he figured the bruising didn't go too deep. He leaned on the sink, staring at his reflection until he became too uncomfortable with the fear and uncertainty in his own eyes. Losing his own staring contest, he gazed down into the dirty sink instead, wondering what his family members were doing at that moment. They had to know he was missing; he'd said he would be back in time for Sunday dinner and being Monday evening, he was sure they would have tried to contact him with no success, but where would they start to look? Even he didn't know where he was, or if he was even back in New York City. He could be in the next state or across the country for all he knew.
He walked slowly back into the main room. Bored and tense, he lay on the floor on his back, his jacket pillowing his head. He stared at the ceiling, noticing a small light bulb off to his left. There must be a light switch on the wall somewhere, but he had no desire to get back up again to find it. The dark matched his current mood anyway. He didn't know how to get out of this, and his lack of control over the situation angered him to no end. He was determined to fight, but how long could he continue along that path? He nearly lost back at the campground, and again just hours previous.
He sighed mournfully. How long would it take before he started hoping that Jake would just finish the job and be done with it? He'd fired back at the psychopath that he wouldn't break him, but he doubted his own words as soon as they left his mouth. He was already starting to wish that this nightmare would just end, that it would just let him be free.
'Stop thinking like that!' he thought to himself, angrily wiping a hand over his eyes which had started stinging again. 'You can't give up yet, Reagan! There's too much fight left in you for you to just give up!'
His heart thumped as he heard a scuffling sound from the other side of the door and a key in the lock. He sat up quickly, taking an almost defensive stance while slowing his breathing as he waited for the door to open.
He groaned and covered his face as light assaulted his eyes. Something pushed on the top of his head as he tried to make the spots in front of his eyes go away. He swatted at thin air, backing up quickly before lifting his head and squinting at the figure standing in the bright light from the overhead bulb. It was the blond brute again. Jamie glared at him, wishing he could make him disappear.
"What do you want now?"
"You're hungry, aren't you?" Cole muttered. "I brought you some more water and a sandwich. It's your choice, though."
Jamie hungrily eyed the sandwich sitting on the plate that had been place in front of him. The bottle was beside it. "What did you do to it?"
Cole snorted. "Nothing. The bread may be a bit stale, but it won't kill you."
Jamie glared again, grabbing the plate and the bottle. He kept his back to the wall, staying as far away from his captor as possible. "What's the bastard doing, anyway?"
"Jake? Plotting to kill you." Cole smirked. Jamie snorted into his food.
"What else is new? What's he really doing?"
"I don't know." Cole answered truthfully. "He wants his group to do the dirty work, but he's always for himself. He never says anything until the last minute."
"Why are you with him, then? Why don't you just leave?"
"Leave Jake? Are you serious? The only way you leave him is by running and hiding, or by death. You pick your fate and personally, I think death is more appealing. Once Jake has you in his sights, he won't give up."
Jamie stared, swallowing the lump of dry food with difficulty. It caught in his throat, making him cough. He gulped some of the water, hoping to soften it. "That's reassuring." he choked out.
Cole snorted. "Keep your mouth shut next time and do as he says, he may prolong the inevitable if you're good."
Jamie glared at Cole's retreating back. He was impossible to understand!
~~BB~~
"Jake, what do you want to do with him? It's dangerous to keep him around! The cops will be looking for us!"
"I don't care about the cops, Kevin!" Jake snapped. "I am going to break him, make him beg for death by the time I'm through with him! No one gets the upper hand on me! No one takes away what is mine and gets away with it!"
"Jake," Cole hesitated. "He didn't really take anything away… he wasn't responsible for…" Cole bit his words, stepping back hastily as Jake whirled on him.
"You got a man-crush, Cole?"
"Of course not…"
"Really? 'Cause you've been trying to stall me ever since we saw him in the woods two nights ago. Seems to me that you must dream about him at night! You don't want me to hurt that pretty little face of his, do you?" Jake sneered mockingly.
"I'm just trying to make you think it through, Jake. Whatever, it's your call." Cole backed off.
Jake smirked, his eyes manic, shivers of fear running down the spines of his onlookers. "You're right, it is my call! And he is going down! I will break him piece by piece until he begs to die. There will be nothing left of him to send back to his precious family!"
~~BB~~
Jamie stood, plastered to the wall in the alley, listening to the commotion just a stone's throw away. He knew he should reach for his radio, call it in, but he wasn't even supposed to be in the area. He'd made a quick stop at a shop in Chinatown to grab a birthday gift for Nicki, a necklace he knew she'd like. He cursed at himself; he should have waited until morning after his shift was over. His heart thumped in his chest as sweat rolled down the back of his neck. He should leave this area to the cops who were supposed to be there, but he felt rooted to the spot…
He wanted to yell out as he saw a child round the corner, calling to one of the older men…
He only just noticed the gun in another man's hand…
He felt bile rise in his throat as blood blossomed over the sweatshirt…
Jamie jerked awake, gasping, the meager sandwich he'd eaten for dinner churning uneasily in his stomach. He rolled off of his back, hoping the sick feeling would go away. With a shaking hand, he wiped at the sweat on his forehead. He glanced at his watch, noticing that it was after four in the morning. He groaned, getting up to splash some cool water on his face. Drying off, he shuddered at the stench of the liquid before making his way back to his sleeping spot, taking a mouthful of the bottled water he'd been saving. He rested his forehead on his fists, breathing through the images that still assaulted his mind.
'Get me out of here… please…'
His head shot up as he heard muttering on the other side of the door. He scrambled to his feet, backing into the corner farthest from the door. The door swung open. Jake smirked at him. The other three filed in behind him.
"Aw, poor little Reagan… you're already breaking aren't you, toughie? Do you want daddy yet?" Jake mocked.
Jamie clenched his teeth together, refusing to speak. Cole caught his eye, giving a tiny nod.
"Answer me." Jake snarled. Jamie still refused, but he swallowed painfully as Jake stalked closer. He moved, keeping his back to the wall while attempting to keep his sides open. Jake smirked.
"Are we gonna dance, Reagan? You want to show me some fancy footwork?"
Jamie stopped, realizing that anything he did would bring Jake's ire onto him. He clenched his fists instead, narrowing his eyes as Jake got in his face. Jake stood a good two inches taller than him, and he glared hatefully down at him. Jamie glared hatefully back.
Jake's fists grabbed his shirt before he could even blink, pressing him into the wall. Jamie tried to break his grip, but Jake's anger seemed to fuel him forward. Jake yanked him forwards, shoving him roughly towards the middle of the room. Jamie stumbled, quickly righting himself, keeping his fists up in case Jake were to launch himself at him again. He never expected to be grabbed on either side and forced to his knees. He struggled futilely, Andy and Kevin much taller and sturdier than he would have expected.
"Cole, give it to me." Jake demanded roughly. Cole stepped up into Jamie's line of sight, but appeared to hesitate. Finally, he handed over the small object. Jamie breathing hitched, watching as the taser was placed into Jake's evil hand.
'I'm so screwed!' he thought, panicked. He'd been tasered before as every rookie had to be tested out while in training so that they knew what it felt like, but Jake wouldn't exactly be kind about it.
Jake snickered. "I can make you talk, little Reagan. I told you before, and now… now I can show you!"
Jamie had barely closed his eyes when he felt the little electric prongs plunge into his abdomen. His body jerked as his muscles stiffened. Vaguely, he could feel Andy and Kevin's grip tighten as his body threatened to fall forward. He could see little bursts of light behind his closed lids as Jake kept the electricity coming.
Jamie gasped, slumping forward as the taser was taken away. His stomach clenched painfully, but he refused to throw up, not wanting to give them the satisfaction.
"You really think you're done yet, Reagan?" Jake sneered from behind him. Jamie closed his eyes again as he felt electricity course through his body once more, this time from his right shoulder. His fists were clenched, the fire coursing through him. He bit down a cry of pain…
He fell forward as Andy and Kevin released him, snickering. He lay, hunched over and breathing hard, praying that Jake would become bored and just go away.
He couldn't stop the cry that tore from his throat as the electricity plunged into his chest. He hadn't noticed that Jake had knelt down beside him. He could feel his erratic heartbeat, sure that his heart would explode…
The tears streamed down his face as Jake let up. He curled into a ball, praying that Jake would leave…
Jake used his foot to roughly press his shoulder, easily forcing the tired man onto his back. Jamie tried to glare, but his watering eyes told him the effect was diminished. Jake sneered down at him.
"What do you have to say to me?" Jake snarled.
"Go… to… hell!" he ground out between clenched teeth, his words earning him a swift, rough kick to his side. Jamie jerked, moaning, trying to curl over onto his now throbbing ribs, but Jake stepped down hard onto his left arm, preventing him from turning over. Jamie grimaced, quickly losing feeling in his hand as Jake's shoe pressed on his wrist. Jake's face twisted in anger.
"You are the most stubborn little bastard, Reagan, but you will break!" Jake sneered, releasing his arm and giving Jamie another kick to the ribs. Jamie immediately curled back into a ball, trying to protect his sore middle. Jake laughed as he walked out, Andy and Kevin snickering as they followed. Cole retreated, closing the door. Jamie felt his stomach twist. Shakily he got up, stumbling for the bathroom, getting to the toilet just as the contents of his stomach decided to come up. He continued to heave, bringing up nothing, his ribs and sore muscles pulling at his body. Shakily, he grabbed some toilet paper, wiping his mouth. He flushed the toilet, standing with difficulty. He turned…
He nearly fell backwards as he came face to face with Cole, who automatically reached out to steady him. He held out another bottle of water.
"Take it easy with this one, you don't want to throw up again."
Jamie looked at him warily, but took the bottle anyway. "What are you doing here?"
Cole regarded him with interest. "I'm actually quite impressed with you, Reagan. You probably shouldn't have told him to go to hell, but you held your tongue better this time." He smirked before continuing. "You move pretty well for a man who looks like death warmed over."
Jamie shoved angrily past him. "Stuff it." he growled, moving carefully back to his spot under the window. He sat, holding his ribs. He breathed through the pain the movement caused. He glared at Cole, who had lazily followed and was now standing with his arms crossed, regarding him closely. Jamie felt his skin crawl. What was it with him and his piercing eyes? He was starting to make him feel violated.
"You're holding your own" was Cole's only answer to Jamie's questioning glance. He turned, quickly leaving the room and locking the door.
Jamie leaned his head against the wall. He placed the full water bottle beside the one he hadn't finished yet. He closed his eyes, his angry demeanor starting to dissolve. Is this what his life was becoming? Was he going to be locked in here forever, receiving stale food and hoarding what water he could get his hands on? Was he to become a plaything for the psychopaths, to be used when they wanted entertainment, and left on his own when they were bored? More tears escaped his eyes.
"Help me…" he whispered. "Someone help me…"
~~BB~~
Danny sat up with a muffled cry, shaking. He scrubbed his hands over his face, glancing at the clock. It was four-thirty in the morning. Linda stirred beside him.
"Babe? What's wrong?" she muttered, still half asleep.
"Nothing, Linda. Go back to sleep."
"Okay…" she mumbled, a soft snore filling the air.
Danny shakily got out of bed, making his way to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. He gulped some right out of the tap before drying off. He left the bathroom, wandering downstairs to stare out the window into the backyard. His hands still shook.
His nightmare was nothing unusual. Jamie had been running away from him, terror on his face, when a shot rang out. Danny tried to get closer to his brother as maniacal laughter filled the air. He got there to find his baby brother covered in blood, the life rapidly leaving him. His eyes were cracked open and tear filled…
Danny bent his head as Jamie's words rang through his mind…
"Help me…"
~~BB~~
"Jamie?"
"Dad?"
"Jamie, son, where are you?"
"I'm here, Dad… Dad, you've got to help me!"
Frank fumbled around in the darkness, only able to hear his beloved youngest child. Tears sprang to his eyes as he heard the panic in his son's voice.
A shout filled the air, a crash from somewhere to his left…
A scream filled the air as Frank stumbled over something…
Frank realized the scream came from him as he held his youngest son in his arms. A son no longer with the living…
Frank jerked and sat up, tears already streaming down his face. He roughly wiped his eyes, getting out of bed.
"Jamie…" he mumbled. "Just hold on, son…"
~~BB~~
Henry squinted into the darkness. He reached for his glasses, his vision no clearer than before. He could feel something in front of him, even though his hands came up empty as he waved them around.
Something shimmered in front of his eyes. There was a person standing there…
"Jamie!"
"You're running out of time, Gramps." Jamie said, smiling sadly. Henry stared. He looked healthy enough…
"Jamie, where are you?"
Henry jumped as Jamie was suddenly forced to his knees. He looked down at his grandson as Jamie's eyes streamed tears…
"I love you…"
"Jamie!"
A shot rang out as an animalistic cry rang through the air...
Henry caught his grandson as he fell forward, cradling the dying man…
The animalistic cry ripped from his own throat…
Henry's eyes flew open as he gasped for air, his heart thumping in his chest. His hands shook as he reached for his glasses, shoving them onto his sweaty face. His throat constricted as Jamie's sad, haunted face came to the forefront of his mind, as his falling, blood covered body fell into his arms…
"It was just a nightmare…" Henry mumbled to himself, wiping his eyes. He glanced at the clock; four-thirty in the morning. He stiffly got out of bed, shuffling to the stairs. He would just go into the kitchen, make himself a cup of tea to calm his nerves, then go back to bed to try to get some more sleep.
He stopped short in the doorway, observing his son sitting at the table staring into his own cup of tea.
"Can't sleep, Francis?"
Frank raised his eyes to his father, shaking his head. Henry's breath caught at the haunted look in his son's reddened eyes.
"Can you, Pop?"
Henry sat at the table, pouring himself a cup of tea from the pot resting on the table. "No. All I see are nightmares… Jamie…"
Frank nodded sadly, his lips shaky. "Pop… I held my dead son in my arms…"
Henry's eyes widened. "I held my grandson as he died in my arms, Francis. Our nightmares were at the same time, of the same thing… what does that mean?"
"It means we have to find him…" Frank mumbled.
Henry stared at his hands resting on the table. "I can't take this, Francis. He's been gone since Saturday. Do we even have a hope at finding him alive?"
Frank's eyes flashed as he shot a glare at his father. "Don't ever say that, Pop! Don't ever give up hope! We will find him and he will be alive!" Frank tore his eyes away from his father's. "He has to be… I can't go through this again…" he mumbled.
Henry lowered his gaze, his heart shattering at the fear in his son's voice, at the fear that coursed through his own body.
~~BB~~
Jamie's eyes opened slowly. A few weak rays of sunlight shone through the grime on the window. He glanced at his watch, squinting in confusion… why did it read four-thirty? Was it already four-thirty in the afternoon? He stared at the unmoving second hand, realization dawning that the electricity that had coursed through his body that morning must have stopped his watch. His arm flopped over his eyes as his throat tightened. He knew nothing, now… and they had complete and total control over him.
~~TBC~~