‹ Prequel: Going Bush
Going Bush 2: Suburbia
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Taylor’s eyes fluttered open as Nate’s footsteps strode across the trailer toward him. Quickly realising what was going to happen, he tried to sit himself up but couldn’t get there in time with his hands still bound behind his back.
“Who did you tell?!” Nate demanded, grabbing the chain and pulling him up by it.
Taylor choked until he could get to his knees.
“No one! I swear!” he coughed, before being hit across the face.
“You’re lying!” Nate scorned, before stepping aside and thrusting the chain so that Taylor had to look behind him.
The television was turned in his direction, and he could clearly see the Mexican nurse on the screen.
His face lost colour.
“What did you tell her?!” Nate’s voice rose.
“Nothing! I told her nothing,” Taylor panicked, “she must have seen us leave or something. I didn’t talk to her, I swear!”
“So you didn’t tell her to get out of the hospital as fast as she could?” Nate sneered.
Taylor closed his eyes, knowing he’d lost the argument.
Nate hit him again and then threw him back onto the bed.
“I’m sorry!” Taylor winced, having fallen onto his side.
“Oh you’ll be sorry,” Nate promised, digging out his cell phone and dialling.
Taylor watched with worry as he made the call, wondering if he should go for the knife now.
“Trent, hey. Have you seen the news?” Nate scratched his head, ignoring Taylor.
“Yeah I know. But they’re on the lookout for the truck, so I need to dump it. Can you come and watch him for the night while I get us another car?”
Taylor cringed, letting his head hit the bed again.
“Great. See you when you get here,” and Nate hung up.
He went to one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out some more cable ties. Seeing what he was doing, Taylor tried to sit up again.
“Stay down,” Nate almost growled, pushing him over onto his stomach.
Taylor closed his eyes as he felt the tie go around his ankles, before Nate pulled them up so he could put him into another hogtie.
“Nate I can’t stay like this, it hurts,” Taylor pleaded.
“Good,” Nate said simply, pulling it tight.
Taylor groaned as he did so before watching as Nate went back to the drawer. When he saw him remove a new roll of duct tape he cringed again.
“Nate, please, I’m not going to try anything I swear,” he tried again.
“Because you’re so trustworthy,” Nate scorned, pulling a hanky from his pocket.
He stepped over and threw the tape onto the bed beside Taylor’s face before pulling him up by the hair. As Taylor cried out he shoved the handkerchief in his mouth before biting off a length of tape which he easily fit around his jawline. Defeated, Taylor collapsed down onto the bed again when he was let go.
Nate made his way to a cupboard where he revealed a radio Taylor hadn’t seen before. He set it on the table beside the television and turned it on, blasting some music so heavy that Taylor couldn’t even decipher it. Satisfied that the noise of the radio would cover anything Taylor might do to draw attention, he grabbed his keys and left the trailer.
“Who did you tell?!” Nate demanded, grabbing the chain and pulling him up by it.
Taylor choked until he could get to his knees.
“No one! I swear!” he coughed, before being hit across the face.
“You’re lying!” Nate scorned, before stepping aside and thrusting the chain so that Taylor had to look behind him.
The television was turned in his direction, and he could clearly see the Mexican nurse on the screen.
His face lost colour.
“What did you tell her?!” Nate’s voice rose.
“Nothing! I told her nothing,” Taylor panicked, “she must have seen us leave or something. I didn’t talk to her, I swear!”
“So you didn’t tell her to get out of the hospital as fast as she could?” Nate sneered.
Taylor closed his eyes, knowing he’d lost the argument.
Nate hit him again and then threw him back onto the bed.
“I’m sorry!” Taylor winced, having fallen onto his side.
“Oh you’ll be sorry,” Nate promised, digging out his cell phone and dialling.
Taylor watched with worry as he made the call, wondering if he should go for the knife now.
“Trent, hey. Have you seen the news?” Nate scratched his head, ignoring Taylor.
“Yeah I know. But they’re on the lookout for the truck, so I need to dump it. Can you come and watch him for the night while I get us another car?”
Taylor cringed, letting his head hit the bed again.
“Great. See you when you get here,” and Nate hung up.
He went to one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out some more cable ties. Seeing what he was doing, Taylor tried to sit up again.
“Stay down,” Nate almost growled, pushing him over onto his stomach.
Taylor closed his eyes as he felt the tie go around his ankles, before Nate pulled them up so he could put him into another hogtie.
“Nate I can’t stay like this, it hurts,” Taylor pleaded.
“Good,” Nate said simply, pulling it tight.
Taylor groaned as he did so before watching as Nate went back to the drawer. When he saw him remove a new roll of duct tape he cringed again.
“Nate, please, I’m not going to try anything I swear,” he tried again.
“Because you’re so trustworthy,” Nate scorned, pulling a hanky from his pocket.
He stepped over and threw the tape onto the bed beside Taylor’s face before pulling him up by the hair. As Taylor cried out he shoved the handkerchief in his mouth before biting off a length of tape which he easily fit around his jawline. Defeated, Taylor collapsed down onto the bed again when he was let go.
Nate made his way to a cupboard where he revealed a radio Taylor hadn’t seen before. He set it on the table beside the television and turned it on, blasting some music so heavy that Taylor couldn’t even decipher it. Satisfied that the noise of the radio would cover anything Taylor might do to draw attention, he grabbed his keys and left the trailer.