“But then he’ll be dead weight, and I don’t want to carry him.”
I throw an elbow in one of the men’s faces, hitting him in the nose and gushing blood.
“I’ll do it. I don’t want a broken nose like you,” he chuckles to himself as he goes to grab another syringe.
No! If they sedate me, I won’t be able to fight. I’ll never be able to live with myself if they hurt Liesel.
I have to find a way to keep the drug from entering my system. My blood is boiling with rage and adrenaline by the time the squat, balding man returns. The other man’s nose is still bleeding.
“I’m going to get some ice for my nose while the drug takes effect, then we can deal with him,” the first guard says before walking out the door.
The man with the syringe approaches me from the back. I have to come up with a plan, something to stop the drug from taking over.
I continue to thrash as the man tries to grab ahold of me.
“Hold still,” he says.
I don’t. I jerk wildly as I feel him jab my shoulder. I feel him start to push the liquid into my muscle, and I pull away as he pushes in the liquid.
“There. Now you’ll relax,” the man says as he walks out of the room, leaving me tied to the chair.
I don’t know if he pushed all of the drug into my shoulder or if I succeeded in spilling most down my back. I feel a coolness on my spine, and I hope it’s some of the spilled liquid, but it’s probably wishful thinking.
My eyelids grow heavy, confirming that at least some of the drug en
tered my system. I just hope it doesn’t last. I hope that I can regain my strength before they move me from this castle. For now, I have to sleep.
No, I have to stay awake. I have to fight.
Think about Liesel. Think about what she could be going through. Think about her dead.
I feel sleepy and tired, but the pull of the drug never fully pulls me under.
When I hear footsteps approaching again, I pretend I’m asleep, so they think the drug worked. I force myself to slump in my chair, my eyes to close, and my breathing to still.
“He seems out,” one of the men says.
I feel a finger poking me. I moan softly, but otherwise, don’t move.
“Yep, looks good to go.”
I hear and feel the unlocking of my chains. I want to make a run for it, but I have to be patient. I have to choose the exact right moment.
“Should we remove the restraints? He weighs a ton by himself; I don’t want to have to carry anything I don’t have to.”
“We can remove the chains from his legs, but keep his wrists cuffed together in case he wakes up earlier than we expect.”
I feel the chains being removed from my legs and my heart rate speeds. Luckily, these idiots don’t notice the change in my pulse.
“I’ll take his shoulders; you carry his legs.”
“Which way are we taking him?”
“We’ll take him out the back door and then pull the truck around to toss him in the back. Then drive him to the boat and dump him on the mainland somewhere.”
I decide to wait until they carry me out of the house before I make my move. They will be exhausted from carrying me, and if I’m lucky, they will leave me alone while they get the truck. I just have to stay conscious until then, a slightly more difficult task while keeping my eyes closed. My body wants to fall asleep, while my heart and soul want to fight.
They lift me clumsily in the air, practically dragging me against the floor. I suspect I’ll hit several bumps in the floor while they carry me and will have to force myself to not react.