‹ Prequel: Going Bush
Going Bush 2: Suburbia
122
Taylor kept his eye on Trent, afraid that he’d move if he dared close them.
It took Trent’s phone falling from his hand to the floor for Taylor to realise what had happened. Trent had fallen asleep.
Taylor lifted his head to make sure he saw what he saw. How Trent could fall asleep with the music blasting so loud, he had no idea. But Taylor suddenly knew that if he had any chance, this was going to be it.
With difficulty he rolled onto his side. Squeezing his fists to try and get the blood circulating again, he quickly began searching the bedcovers for the knife he’d hidden there. Just when he began to panic that Nate must have found it and removed it, his fingers hit the blade. Ignoring the sting of the cuts he managed to grab it and take hold of the handle.
Turning his attention back to Trent he worked vigorously to cut the ties on his wrists. It took longer than he expected, but he finally managed to tug hard enough to snap what was left.
Carefully now, he sat up on the bed, keeping his eyes cautiously on Trent as he worked to free his ankles. He winced when he saw that they’d been bleeding – a result of how tight Nate had made the ties. Once he finally had his ankles free, he carefully slid his feet to the floor and stood.
He eyed the rivet where the chain sat anchored to the wall. Knowing he hadn’t had any luck before, he pushed against the wall to test its strength. He sighed with relief when he realised it was only plywood.
Sparing Trent another glance, he set one of his feet against the wall by the rivet, and wrapped the chain around his fists. Saying a prayer in his head that it wouldn’t be too loud, he gave three hard tugs before the rivet suddenly pulled a hole in the wall.
Falling backwards onto the bed, his eyes darted up to Trent again. There’d been no movement.
Keeping the knife in his hand he got off the bed and made his way to the drawers, opening the third one down. He blinked as he spotted the five loaded syringes, grabbing two to shove in his back pocket and a third which he removed the cap from. Not bothering to get any air bubbles out, he cautiously made his way over to Trent.
The man was out cold, sprawled out with his legs toward the door, an arm hanging down, and his head turned into the corner. Unable to gulp while he was still gagged, Taylor braced himself before suddenly lunging forward. The needle hit Trent in the neck and Taylor immediately depressed the plunger.
“MOTHERF-“ Trent screamed as he awoke, grabbing his neck.
When he saw Taylor standing over him he lunged for him. Taylor managed to grab his arm and push him back down onto the sofa just in time for Trent’s eyes to roll to the back of his head. Taylor immediately pulled the tape from his mouth and spat out the handkerchief, finally taking a much-needed deep breath.
Waiting a moment to make sure Trent was out, Taylor began checking his pockets. He came up with a set of car keys, a wallet with minimal cash, and a pocketknife. Grimacing that there wasn’t at the very least a gun, he spun the car keys into his fist and made for the door.
Hesitating with his hand on the door, he prayed again that Nate wasn’t outside. The volume of the music hadn’t allowed him to hear him even leave. Finally braving it, he opened the door. A white car that was presumably Trent’s was all that Taylor could see.
He quickly ran over to it and tried the different keys. When he found the right one he got in and started it, looking over his shoulder as he backed up before taking off down the gravel track.
It took Trent’s phone falling from his hand to the floor for Taylor to realise what had happened. Trent had fallen asleep.
Taylor lifted his head to make sure he saw what he saw. How Trent could fall asleep with the music blasting so loud, he had no idea. But Taylor suddenly knew that if he had any chance, this was going to be it.
With difficulty he rolled onto his side. Squeezing his fists to try and get the blood circulating again, he quickly began searching the bedcovers for the knife he’d hidden there. Just when he began to panic that Nate must have found it and removed it, his fingers hit the blade. Ignoring the sting of the cuts he managed to grab it and take hold of the handle.
Turning his attention back to Trent he worked vigorously to cut the ties on his wrists. It took longer than he expected, but he finally managed to tug hard enough to snap what was left.
Carefully now, he sat up on the bed, keeping his eyes cautiously on Trent as he worked to free his ankles. He winced when he saw that they’d been bleeding – a result of how tight Nate had made the ties. Once he finally had his ankles free, he carefully slid his feet to the floor and stood.
He eyed the rivet where the chain sat anchored to the wall. Knowing he hadn’t had any luck before, he pushed against the wall to test its strength. He sighed with relief when he realised it was only plywood.
Sparing Trent another glance, he set one of his feet against the wall by the rivet, and wrapped the chain around his fists. Saying a prayer in his head that it wouldn’t be too loud, he gave three hard tugs before the rivet suddenly pulled a hole in the wall.
Falling backwards onto the bed, his eyes darted up to Trent again. There’d been no movement.
Keeping the knife in his hand he got off the bed and made his way to the drawers, opening the third one down. He blinked as he spotted the five loaded syringes, grabbing two to shove in his back pocket and a third which he removed the cap from. Not bothering to get any air bubbles out, he cautiously made his way over to Trent.
The man was out cold, sprawled out with his legs toward the door, an arm hanging down, and his head turned into the corner. Unable to gulp while he was still gagged, Taylor braced himself before suddenly lunging forward. The needle hit Trent in the neck and Taylor immediately depressed the plunger.
“MOTHERF-“ Trent screamed as he awoke, grabbing his neck.
When he saw Taylor standing over him he lunged for him. Taylor managed to grab his arm and push him back down onto the sofa just in time for Trent’s eyes to roll to the back of his head. Taylor immediately pulled the tape from his mouth and spat out the handkerchief, finally taking a much-needed deep breath.
Waiting a moment to make sure Trent was out, Taylor began checking his pockets. He came up with a set of car keys, a wallet with minimal cash, and a pocketknife. Grimacing that there wasn’t at the very least a gun, he spun the car keys into his fist and made for the door.
Hesitating with his hand on the door, he prayed again that Nate wasn’t outside. The volume of the music hadn’t allowed him to hear him even leave. Finally braving it, he opened the door. A white car that was presumably Trent’s was all that Taylor could see.
He quickly ran over to it and tried the different keys. When he found the right one he got in and started it, looking over his shoulder as he backed up before taking off down the gravel track.