‹ Prequel: Going Bush
Going Bush 2: Suburbia
102
“Why am I here?” Taylor followed Nate with his eyes, his hands holding the glass still quivering as his system fought off the drugs.
“Because I brought you here,” Nate replied simply.
Taylor just gave him an exasperated look.
“But why?” he tried again, “why did you bring me here? Why not just leave me to-“
He cut himself off as he remembered being in the cellar and hearing the New York accent.
“You didn’t want me to be rescued,” he realised suddenly, “you brought me here because you didn’t want them to find me.”
Nate reached out and took the glass from him, Taylor watching as he took it over to the small sink.
“Because that’s what it’s all about,” Taylor added softly.
“Do you want something to eat? You must be starving,” Nate offered, going to the small fridge.
Taylor didn’t reply, still having trouble processing the situation. He closed his eyes as he continued to fight the pull of the drugs, opening them again when he almost fell forward. Using his feet to push himself back, he pulled his legs up onto the bed as he sat against the back window and closed his eyes again. He could feel himself sweating and the hair sticking to his face and neck, and wondered how long it was supposed to be before the drugs wore off completely.
He let out another groan when Nate’s weight on the bed made him feel sick again.
“Here.”
He looked up to see Nate holding out a sandwich obviously bought at a truck stop. He hesitated before taking it, making sure it was still sealed. He held it in his hands awkwardly for a moment, trying to wait until the sickness in his stomach subsided before an attempt to eat.
“What happened to Ike and Zac?” he asked carefully, knowing he must be pushing it with the amount of questions he was asking already.
“Eat,” Nate insisted, biting into his own sandwich.
Taylor looked down at it, his fingers tracing the edges of the packaging.
“It can’t hurt to tell me, right?” he looked up hopefully.
“I don’t know what happened, I didn’t stick around to find out,” Nate said sternly, “now eat. It’ll make you feel better.”
Taylor mused that it was something Nate had never been worried about before, but he obediently broke the sandwich open. With his hands now awkwardly close together again it was hard, but he managed to get half out and take a bite. Whatever was in it wasn’t particularly appetising but he was grateful for it purely being edible. Before he knew it he’d finished the lot and Nate disposed of the rubbish.
“Who else was here?” Taylor built up the courage to ask eventually.
“No one,” Nate brushed off, going to sit at the table where he turned on a small television.
By the Spanish that came through Taylor presumed they were at least still in Mexico. The fact that they were definitely in a trailer had him worried, but every now and then he could hear the distant sounds of cars going by. He couldn’t tell if it meant they were in a trailer park or maybe just beside the road somewhere but being that close to the public gave him at least a little reassurance.
“Lie down and get some rest. You’ll be better in the morning,” Nate murmured as he watched the screen.
Taylor didn’t really want to, but he didn’t want a fight either. With a bit of difficulty and having to keep the chain out of the way, he managed to get down on his side where he soon dozed off again.
“Because I brought you here,” Nate replied simply.
Taylor just gave him an exasperated look.
“But why?” he tried again, “why did you bring me here? Why not just leave me to-“
He cut himself off as he remembered being in the cellar and hearing the New York accent.
“You didn’t want me to be rescued,” he realised suddenly, “you brought me here because you didn’t want them to find me.”
Nate reached out and took the glass from him, Taylor watching as he took it over to the small sink.
“Because that’s what it’s all about,” Taylor added softly.
“Do you want something to eat? You must be starving,” Nate offered, going to the small fridge.
Taylor didn’t reply, still having trouble processing the situation. He closed his eyes as he continued to fight the pull of the drugs, opening them again when he almost fell forward. Using his feet to push himself back, he pulled his legs up onto the bed as he sat against the back window and closed his eyes again. He could feel himself sweating and the hair sticking to his face and neck, and wondered how long it was supposed to be before the drugs wore off completely.
He let out another groan when Nate’s weight on the bed made him feel sick again.
“Here.”
He looked up to see Nate holding out a sandwich obviously bought at a truck stop. He hesitated before taking it, making sure it was still sealed. He held it in his hands awkwardly for a moment, trying to wait until the sickness in his stomach subsided before an attempt to eat.
“What happened to Ike and Zac?” he asked carefully, knowing he must be pushing it with the amount of questions he was asking already.
“Eat,” Nate insisted, biting into his own sandwich.
Taylor looked down at it, his fingers tracing the edges of the packaging.
“It can’t hurt to tell me, right?” he looked up hopefully.
“I don’t know what happened, I didn’t stick around to find out,” Nate said sternly, “now eat. It’ll make you feel better.”
Taylor mused that it was something Nate had never been worried about before, but he obediently broke the sandwich open. With his hands now awkwardly close together again it was hard, but he managed to get half out and take a bite. Whatever was in it wasn’t particularly appetising but he was grateful for it purely being edible. Before he knew it he’d finished the lot and Nate disposed of the rubbish.
“Who else was here?” Taylor built up the courage to ask eventually.
“No one,” Nate brushed off, going to sit at the table where he turned on a small television.
By the Spanish that came through Taylor presumed they were at least still in Mexico. The fact that they were definitely in a trailer had him worried, but every now and then he could hear the distant sounds of cars going by. He couldn’t tell if it meant they were in a trailer park or maybe just beside the road somewhere but being that close to the public gave him at least a little reassurance.
“Lie down and get some rest. You’ll be better in the morning,” Nate murmured as he watched the screen.
Taylor didn’t really want to, but he didn’t want a fight either. With a bit of difficulty and having to keep the chain out of the way, he managed to get down on his side where he soon dozed off again.