Chapter 9

John tried to move as he started coming around and grimaced with the pounding in his head. He grunted in pain and jerked on his arms to find them bound behind him. He blinked his eyes rapidly trying to clear his vision so he could see. Wherever he was, was dimly lit and he could barely make out anything. It was a cinder block room with a concrete floor but there wasn't any furniture in the room. John tried to check his pockets for any weapons but found them empty and tried to remember what had happened.

He had been on a case and was checking out crime scenes and then nothing. He had been attacked coming out of the building, but by whom he had no idea. If it was the monster, he wasn't sure why he was still alive unless they were saving him for something else.

The coldness from the concrete floor was seeping into his bones making him shiver uncontrollably. He tried to scoot around so he could sit up and lean against the bare wall. Any movement made his head hurt worse and almost caused him to black out again as bile rose in his throat. He drew in some slow trembling breaths to hopefully clear his head as he waited for the nausea and dizziness to pass. He had no idea hold long he had been unconscious or where the hell he was. All he could do was wait for someone to come back to check on him.

Spn

John didn't know how long he had been sitting in the room until he finally heard someone at the door. He was blinded by a lightbulb that suddenly came on and turned away, trying to shield his eyes. Strong hands grabbed him, put a bag over his head, and drug him from the room. Before he could determine where he was at, or who these people were, he was tossed roughly into a van with the doors closing behind him. The windows had been blacked so no one could see into the vehicle.

The van was started and pulled out driving over a rough road that tossed John around in the back of the van. He banged his head on the metal and winced as he rolled against the other side hitting his shoulder. His bouncing finally stopped when the van drove onto a paved road. He lay on the floor of the van panting hard, just happy he had stopped being thrown around.

The van would slow and stop and then speed up again like it was being driven through a town with lights or stop signs. The motion of the van changed and smoothed out like it had pulled onto a highway. He was disoriented and his pounding head didn't help matters. He couldn't think straight or try to figure a way out of his predicament and tried to shut his mind down for now.

A couple of hours later, the van slowed, and John felt it turn several times before slowing and stopping. He waited, thinking they would be taking him out, but no one opened the back doors. After a few minutes, the van moved again and stopped. He heard the doors being opened and hands grabbed him pulling him out the door. The bag was pulled up enough from his face that water could be poured into his mouth. John gagged and coughed as he tried to swallow what he could to quench his thirst. The water stopped, the bag was replaced, and the doors closed again. He felt the van being started and pulling from wherever it was to get back on the highway again.

It was hard to breathe with the bag over his head and John tried to calm down and slow his breaths. He cleared his throat and coughed again feeling the wetness under him and on his clothes. The bag clung to his wet cheek, and he rolled to his side and tried to maneuver it up over his head but could only get it to barely move and gave up not wanting to expend any more effort and energy.

Spn

The distance that they traveled seemed to last forever and John nodded off several times not able to stay awake. When the van began to slow, John became alert and rolled with the motion of it as it turned corners and bounced over an uneven road.

The van stopped and the doors were opened to haul John out of the back. His balance was off and could barely stand. His captors shoved and snarled orders for him to walk. A gun was shoved into his back making him grunt as he tried to get his legs to work. It was hard to stay upright when he couldn't see anything and had no idea where he was going.

The screech of a door opening sounded in front of him and suddenly his arms were freed before he was shoved forward, stumbling and going down hard. His arm went numb when his elbow struck the cement floor. John lay there getting his breath before jerking the bag from his head so he could take a few deep breaths.

After he got his bearings, John pushed himself to a sitting position and looked around at his prison. He was in an eight by ten cell with a steel door. There was a ratty mattress on the floor and commode/sink combo in the corner. Other than that, the cell was bare. He looked toward the door and saw a small door at the bottom open and something was shoved inside.

Deciding crawling was easier than trying to stand, John scooted closer to find a gas station sandwich and a couple bottles of water. He took the items and settled on the mattress to at least get off the cold floor. Not having any other options, John tore into the sandwich and wolfed it down, stopping only to drink some water between bites. He still had no idea who took him or why, but he had a feeling that they were human and not monsters.

As he ate, John surveyed the room looking for any signs of cameras or listening devices. Then he gave the door a look to see if it showed any weakness but didn't see any. It was strong looking even if there was rust and dirt coating it.

There were no windows, and the bulb barely gave off enough light to see. There was a damp, musty, urine smell to the place and he wondered if he was in a basement or somewhere underground. Once the food was gone, John stretched out on the mattress and took inventory of his injuries to see how bad they were. He had bruises and scraps across his body, a knot on the back of his head, raw wrist from his bindings, and split lip from rolling into the side of the van. All in all, he was okay for now.

Once he stretched his muscles and tried to get the soreness from his body, he let himself relax to regain his strength. He knew there was no way out of this cell except through the door. John closed his eyes and blanked his mind as he drew in slow even breaths. He would bide his time and watch for a weakness and try to escape. No one would come looking for him because he never told anyone where he was going.

His only concerns were his boys and what was going to happen to them. John had taught Dean to call Bobby or Pastor Jim if he didn't come back from a hunt or he hadn't called that he would be delayed. He hoped Dean had done that and they were safe.

A/N: Thanks for coming along for the ride. Reviews/Comments would be great. NC