Survival Tendencies

Chapter 3- Escape

"So, we leave tomorrow morning and head south to the Repo group. Y'know, the one that likes fighters? Those sick fucks, yeah." You try to tune out the words you're hearing.

"Okay. She should fetch a nice price, maybe some ammo or bandages if we're lucky. Water and food too of course. Maybe some more clothes."

"Exactly!" You slide to lay on your side. God, how the world had changed. Selling people for supplies. You wouldn't have stooped that low, selling people. Yet, you knew if you saw someone in your position, you'd abandon them. The two males sigh and mutter good nights to each other, the rustle of fabric being a tell-tale sign of adjusting to comfortable positions to sleep.

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You wait.

The air grows colder as the fire burns out.

You wait.

Their breaths are soft, steady, deep.

You wait.

One of them moves in their sleep, mumbling a bit.

You wait.

The other begins to snore.

You open your eyes and slip your hands out of your constraint. Your feet are a little tougher, having to bring your numb hands to pull at the tie. You succeed with minimal sound and carefully stand, stretching your numb legs. In the corner, you see your pack resting with theirs, undisturbed. The older male had his jacket, and your weapons, over him. You'd have to plan this carefully.

You make your way to the packs, going through theirs to find the zip-ties and duct tape. You decide for the older, more buff male first. 

You zip-tie his hands behind his back carefully, making sure to not jostle him too much. REM sleep was deep sleep; unless he was a light sleeper, you would be fine. You zip-tie his legs together as well. 

You make your way over to the younger one, doing the same. 

"Michael, wake the fuck up!" Shit. You forgot to duct tape the other's mouth. 

'Michael' woke while you were tying his legs together, shouting and kicking you in the chest. You swore you could feel your ribs crack as your back hit the wall behind you. You groan and look up, watching the male struggle with his hands behind his back and his friend immobile and angry. 

The tie snaps, not at all secure since you were pushed off before hand. He rushes at you, hands in fists. You step from the wall, relaxing your body. A foot in front, little to no weight on it. A fist in front of your face and one near your diaphragm.

You duck under the first swing, retaliating with your own weaker punch. You miss.

His second swing hits you in the gut, sending you back into the wall. He wastes no time to lay punch after punch, rapid firing them off. You feel your ribs crack under the pressure, bruises forming where his skin met yours. A particularly hard punch sends you to the ground, coughing up blood.

You try to catch your breath as he kicks you in your diaphragm, letting out a silent scream. He grabs your hair, pulling your face up to meet his.

"You fucking deserve this." You cough, blood flying from your lips as you give him a grin. He freezes as his eyes meet yours. 

"Mi-st-ake," You whisper. You bring your feet up, using adrenaline to fuel your moves and ignore the pain. The kick connects with his knee, crumpling him. He grunts in pain and surprise as you kick again, aiming a bit higher, but missing.