Going Bush

“What’s going on here?” came the voice of the newcomer.
“It’s all under control,” Nate insisted, arming the rifle as Taylor remained backed up against the truck.
“It doesn’t sound like it.”
Taylor looked the man over. He was a little taller than Nate, slightly more muscular build, with blonde shaggy hair and a beard.
“Trent, meet Taylor,” Nate nodded toward him.
Taylor closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath again. Just his luck to choose that particular car to hit.
“Where’s the other guy?” Trent asked.
“In the truck. See if he’s ok,” Nate instructed.
Trent did so.
“He’s unconscious. He’ll just wake up with a headache,” his voice came a second later.
“You’re lucky,” Nate glared at Taylor, lowering the rifle, “how’s your car?”
“Not as bad off as the truck.”
“We’ll have to take it then. You’ll have to help me get Bernie in the back seat.”
“What about the kid?” Trent asked, jumping down from the cab and eyeing Taylor off.
Nate looked him over for a second.
“Help me get him in the trunk.”
“Oh God,” Taylor moaned, looking to the sky helplessly.
“You got anything to gag him with, just in case?” Trent asked, making Taylor’s eyes widen again.
“I can make one,” Nate insisted, setting the rifle against his leg.
He took hold of the bottom of Taylor’s shirt (that he was still wearing) and began to rip a piece off. When he had a strip of it he picked the rifle up again, before Trent came to hold it for him. Nate made his way over to Taylor, spinning the cloth slightly to tighten it.
“Don’t make it harder than it has to be,” he insisted, “step forward.”
Taylor glanced over at Trent before complying. He tried not to think about what might happen to him when Bernard finally woke up.
Nate pulled the cloth through his mouth and tied it tightly at the back of his head. Moving around to Taylor’s side, Taylor saw him fumbling in his pocket for a moment before revealing the key to the lock on the chains on his wrists.
“This’ll be quick,” Nate insisted, “I want you to put your hands behind you. Understand?”
Taylor nodded with another gulp. As soon as his hands were free, Nate pulled them back and replaced the chains. Taylor kept his eyes down so he didn’t have to look at Trent, who he knew was watching him.
When Nate was done he pocketed the key again, before pulling him over to the car. Taylor saw that a good portion of the front had been damaged, but not enough to make it unworthy of the road. Trent came to unlock the trunk as Taylor turned to look back at the truck.
“He’ll be fine,” Nate assured as Trent took Taylor’s shoulders and Nate bent to grab his legs.
Not without a grunt or two from Taylor, the two lifted him into the trunk.
“It’s a long drive,” Trent said as he looked down on him, “has he eaten anything?”
“No. Just give him water or something if you have to then help me with Bernie.”