Un-Stuck

He couldn’t tell if his eyes were opened or closed. The darkness pressed so hard against his lids that it created a gnawing at the back of his brain. He had no idea where he was. It smelled of dampness mixed with rotting flesh. A sticky warm liquid poured from the corner of his mouth and the only sounds were the drops of blood against the floor. The taste of copper settled deep into his tongue. Phone. He tried to reach for it, but his wrists were bound behind his back, pulling at the skin and burning the flesh. Someone called. She called, he thought. But things weren’t making sense. Bite sized memories flashed through his head, a red lantern, a cat, a pistol colliding with his jaw. They found him. They knew he was sneaking around, and the Russian woman heard his phone and that’s when he met the side of her gun. A new wave of dread flowed over him. There was no doubt that they were going to kill him. No one would be on the way to save him. And since he didn’t get back, those men watchin...

An overwhelming smell of burning flooded out through the open windows, but from the outside, the house looked fine. There were no signs of flames licking the sides of the wooden frame, or sound of fire eating the floorboards. There was no heat pulsing out through the windows against his face, but he could hear the fire alarm blaring from within. A quick radio message told him that his crew was clear to enter the premises, so long as they were on their guard. It didn’t come in clear if the house was empty or if someone was trapped inside. Swiftly, they made their way in, trying to ignore the assault the alarm and smoke raged on their senses. It smelled like thanksgiving gone wrong. Overcooked and left to dry out before being used as a candle to fragrance the whole place. He motioned for his crew to split. Two to the right, to what looked like the back of the house, toward the hallways leading to the bedrooms. Two to follow him, through the living room toward what smelled like the kitche...

“No! Don’t shoot!” Isaac screamed from behind me. My hand was shaking terribly. I imagine I would have missed anyway with how erratically my wrist was seizing. I screamed in frustration. “Gimme one reason!” My voice was jumping in a wild frenzy. How could he expect me to just drop the gun, get back into the car and ride off into the night? We searched and pled just to find him. And there he was, tied to the overpass on top of the vacant train tracks. We couldn’t have planned it any better. And now Isaac was saying don’t. Don’t kill him. Don’t put a bullet through his worthless head and end it right here right now. “Are you sure?” He asked like he was trying to coax me off the edge of a cliff. If the adrenaline coursing through my veins didn’t have my head all foggy and my muscles spasming, I would have rolled my eyes. All I could see was the man in front of me. His hands all over my body, the sick smell of cheap whiskey and cigarettes covering his tongue. His tongue as he tried to stu...