Her head pounded, and her face felt sore. Sam slowly came back to life. She vaguely recalled calling for help in the back of that van. She made noise, screaming and jamming her body against the side whenever the van seemed to slow down or stop.
The last thing she remembered seeing was one of the men who had dragged her out of the hotel come at her with the butt of a gun.
Sam's stomach churned from the pain in her head. The light in the room blinded her as she opened her eyes, making her head thud painfully. She sat up with difficulty. Her captors had upgraded the zip cord around her wrists with actual handcuffs. They were looped around a metal pipe that came through the concrete floor, curved, and went up to the ceiling. They hadn't bothered to release her feet.
Sam scooted on her rear until she was mostly sitting up against the cement wall. She was being held in some sort of basement. In spite of how bright it seemed to her, the single light bulb in the ceiling above her was dim, and gave the barren room a dirty, yellowish tinge.
There were no doors or windows that she could see, not even a set of stairs that went up to the main level of wherever this was. Low voices came from the floor above her. They sounded tense, almost argumentative.
Someone groaned close by. Sam started. John lay next to her, his hands cuffed behind his back and also to a pipe. He began to wake.
He rolled onto his rear and scooted up against the wall. He looked up, and around the room, then at Sam. "Oh."
"Are you okay?" Sam couldn't have sounded more miserable.
John nodded at her. "It looks like you took more of a beating than I did." He squinted at her, leaning forward in attempt to examine the gash and bruise on her face. "Don't they realize that all that does is piss me off a little more?"
Sam felt herself relax a bit. Hearing his voice, knowing that he was with her made the situation somewhat easier to manage.
"Do you know where we are?" he asked, fiddling with the handcuffs behind him.
Sam shook her head. "The van had no windows, and they knocked me out for making too much noise."
John's lips thinned, Sam thought she saw a vein pulsing in his jaw. Before he could reply a door squeaked open, and footsteps came from behind them down a set of stairs.
It was Scott followed by two of his gang.
"Scottie, what the hell – "
"Don't make me shut you up again, bitch." The man who knocked her out earlier stepped forward and spoke, jabbing the barrel of his gun in the air at her. He had a strong build, and a naturally angry demeanor that made Sam go quiet.
Scott held back, his face lowered to the floor.
After an uncomfortable silence, John cleared his throat. "It's often customary to tell us what you want. Otherwise it makes all of this kind of pointless. Where are we? Is this your mom's house?"
Sam stared at John. Why was he purposefully baiting the men with the guns?
That nearly did it. The man who threatened Sam made for John, but Scott grabbed his arm.
"Two visitors are on their way to see your mommy and daddy." He explained rather than go after John.
"What? Scottie, are you insane?"
The gun pointing at Sam fired, chipping away some of the concrete wall just above her head. She screamed and went silent again.
"Don't worry, we won't hurt them. I just think that they'd like to know that their daughter's being held – "
"For ransom," John finished it for him. "You're going to get the money from them either way, aren't you Scottie?"
"With the money we get from them, we can get away from here."
"Get away from Elias." John corrected.
"He's in jail and he's still got all of the power!"
"And you think that, with whatever money you get, you can have some of your own? You should probably consider other donors, just to be on the safe side." John glanced at Scott. "Was this the plan, Scottie?"
Scott stayed silent as the now apparent leader of the group spoke. "Just mind your manners and you'll be free as a bird in no time. Come on," he said to his men and they left the room, back up the stairs.
Sam shuddered as the door shut, leaving them in that cold room.
"This isn't right," John said after a short silence. "Something about this doesn't fit."
"Can your friend still hear us?" Sam asked hopefully.
John shook his head. "They took my phone. Probably dumped it in a toilet somewhere. I liked that one too."
Sam sighed, leaning her head back and stared at the ceiling. "He's in over his head."
"I agree. All of this, involving you and your parents, was not in the bargain, I'd guess."
The voices above them started up again. They were heated and angry, talking over each other.
"It also sounds like Boss Man doesn't have as much control as he'd like," John muttered, his eyes looking above them.
The door opened and Sam prepared for more verbal abuse as Scottie came around the corner. He was alone, carrying plates of food.
He set them down on the floor, crouching in front of Sam.
"Scottie, please talk to me," she begged.
He looked up, into her eyes and Sam understood. She saw the fear. He was terrified.
"Listen to me," she said. "If you let us go John can protect you. He can help the both of us and get you out of this mess. Please, Scottie, I know you're afraid, but I know you think this is wrong."
Scott nodded. "This was an assignment. But I lost control of them. I didn't know about mom and dad. Do you believe me, Sam?"
"I believe you. Let me help you, please," Sam whispered.
He looked at her once more, squeezed her hand before he stood and went back upstairs.
Sam waited until the door shut, and started on the handcuffs. The key Scott had slipped her slid in between her sweaty fingers as she tried fitting it in the lock. After some bending and twisting, she managed it and was free.
Her feet still bound, she discarded the handcuffs and scooted over next to John.
"There's a knife in my pocket," John nodded down, to his jacket.
Sam lifted part of his suit jacket, and reached into the inside pocket. Sure enough, a hefty knife met her fingertips. She pulled it out. It looked more like a hunting knife than a regular pocket knife. She opened it and cut through the zip cord around her ankles.
"Go on, get out," John said nodding towards the stairs.
"Don't be so stupid," Sam said, crouching down next to him, the handcuff key in her fingers. She hunched over, grabbed onto his hands and was about to unlock them when she stopped.
Sam sat up and looked at John. It was as though some exterior force had taken her over, and she could hear Eva's voice inside her head, jumping around and screaming.
"What is it Sam?" John said, lifting his eyebrows, which were perfectly fine, even though he obviously didn't wax them. They were just fine. Being this close to him, Sam saw the thin lines around his eyes and mouth, the flecks of gray in his dark hair, and the fine, black fringe of eyelashes around his shockingly bright eyes.
"John, do you remember that scene in the first Superman movie when Ms. Teschmacher rescued Superman from drowning?" Sam felt as though she was about to implode on herself, but she couldn't stop. And perhaps, she didn't want to.
John tilted his head. "It's been a while, but I remember."
"Before she took that chain with the kryptonite on it off of him, she kissed him, because she didn't think he'd let her after he'd regained his strength and everything."
"Right."
Her heart racing, and her mind screaming, Sam leaned forward and kissed him. He couldn't and didn't fight back. Sam's fingers moved through the short hair on the back of his neck as she held him. Eva would have been so proud. When she pulled away, John held that familiar, faint smile on his face. "So, I'm Superman, now? You really should make up your mind."
Sam felt her face redden even more as the door opened again. She hurriedly unlocked John's handcuffs and turned to meet Scott as he came around the corner once more. He held a pistol in his hand.
"What is taking you so long?"
"Sorry," Sam said, still blushing. "I had a little trouble with mine."
"Come on, let's go."
As he said the words, a shot was fired and Scott's eyes glazed over. His knees buckled and he fell to the floor dropping the pistol.
"I knew he'd wuss out," Boss Man said after Scott hit the concrete.
Sam only reacted. Without sensing the gun trained on her head, without hearing John behind her; she picked up Scott's discarded weapon and, holding it one hand, she pulled the trigger twice. Both shots hit Boss Man square in the chest, pushing him back a few steps, and he collapsed.
Sam still held the gun out in front of her, pointing it at a nonexistent target as John placed his hand on her arm and pried the weapon from her fingers. He tucked it in the back of his pants and placed his hands on her shoulders.
"Sam?" He called to her as though she was a distance away.
Sam blinked and looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "John? What did I do?" she whispered. "Scottie, oh Scottie," she moaned, looking at her brother's lifeless body.
"Look at me, Sam," John commanded. "Look at me."
Sam looked at him. "We have to get to your parents. We have to do that first, okay?"
Sam nodded reluctantly, staring at her brother.
John released her and searched the boss' pockets. He found a cell phone and the gun. He handed the weapon to Sam.
Sam stared at the gun, the gun that killed her brother, and took it out of John's hand. She held it for a moment before lowering it to her side.
The clattering of feet down the basement steps reached them, but John was ready. Sam mimicked him, holding the gun expertly, standing next to John as they met the rest of the gang at the bottom of the steps.
"Give me those cuffs, Sam," he said.
Sam gathered the two sets of handcuffs and handed them to John, who was escorting the group of men into the basement. He lined them up against the wall and, Sam keeping her weapon trained steadily on them, cuffed them together, and looped it around the pipes.