I remembered getting into a fight in middle school with some asshole on the school bus. I took care of this guy about the same way, loading some punches into him before he got one—a good one—right in my face, so strong that it knocked me to the ground beside him.
“Fuckin’ A,” I groaned as I recovered.
The asshole hopped to his feet, when I noticed the Taser lying near me. I seized it and leaped to my feet, throwing myself at the guy, sticking the Taser to his neck, and mashing down on the button, which sent the guy crumbling to his knees and then back to the ground.
I turned back to Liam, who was throwing fists with the attacker he’d knocked to the ground previously, the other out cold from whatever shit had been in that dart.
The way Liam moved…every hit and kick making him look like he was some kind of action star.
Liam punched before offering a kick that sent the attacker back to the van, falling into the open doorway.
“Jesus Christ,” I said, approaching him, feeling confident with at least a Taser to protect me.
Liam breathed deeply, scanning our surroundings. The way he looked around wasn’t like a person who had just been mugged, but like someone with some sort of training. Made me think of the sorts of spy novels he’d discussed earlier.
“Who the fuck are you, James Bond?”
“Ty, look out!”
I heard a sound, like the one that had come from the gun of Liam’s first attacker, and as I turned, another guy in a ski mask came around the van, clutching a handgun in his right hand.
The sound echoed in my eardrums, and a strange numbing sensation overtook me, leaving me suspecting I was about to end up as out as the guy still on the ground. As I whirled around to face the attacker, my leg went limp and I tumbled to the side.
Fuck.
I wondered if my drinking was playing a role in how quickly I’d gone down.
I watched Liam take on the guy, hoping for both our sakes he would fare as well as he had with the others.
What was going to happen? Was this some sort of tranquilizer or poison?
Surely, if they’d wanted us dead, they would have just fucking shot us. But why were they here to begin with? And why had Liam suddenly transformed into Jason Bourne?
The questions racing through my head tailed off along with my ability to keep my eyes open.
* * *
My face throbbedwith pain from where that asshole had decked me. My eyes flitted open as I came to.
Glancing around the dark room I was now in, I sat up—a little too quickly, since I immediately felt like I might throw up.
Where am I? Where’s Liam?
I lay on a full bed.
Memories of what had transpired before my blackout collided with the images of where I was now. Three men in ski masks, a black van, Liam going all ninja on me—walls and ceiling made up of what appeared to be logs, a hardwood floor. It resembled a room in one of the many cabins I had stayed at when I’d gone camping with friends in college.
God, my fucking head hurt. I couldn’t tell if it was from the blow to the face or if I was getting a headache trying to make sense of it all. Or maybe it was how fast I’d sat up.
Liam was some kind of martial-arts champion. Maybe a spy. Those guys were obviously after him. I imagined every possible movie scenario, using them as my guides when trying to sort through the pieces of the event that were coming back to me. After all, only in a movie would shit like that make sense.
Well, that was what I would have believed before that night. Certainly nothing I had ever experienced in my life had been so adventurous…or dangerous.
Despite what happened, the most important questions were: Where had I been taken? By whom? And most of all, was Liam still alive? I couldn’t even entertain that thought. I refused to believe anything could have happened to him.
I reminded myself of the dart I’d been shot with. They wanted him alive, and surely if they’d kept me alive, they had him somewhere too. However, I knew I was mostly trying to convince myself because I couldn’t bear the alternative.
I felt my pockets for my phone…which wasn’t there.
