4 Years

Chapter 3

Roy sat on the warm bench for a while, letting the sun relax and ease some pain. Not knowing where to go, or what to do, he was lost. He did know, that removing his handcuffs, was the first task. In the back garden, of his parent's house, he knew there was a large shed, big enough for his father's equipment, tractors, tools and other farm items, to live comfortably. Roy was certain, there was an angle grinder, hidden in its depths somewhere, but he didn't know if the shed still had power. Figuring there was only one way to find out, he got off the bench, leaving the picture behind, and made his way around the side of the house, to the back garden. Lifting the latch to a small, chest high, gate he stepped out onto the hideous looking lawn. Images of what was once his favourite place to play as a child, and explore his mother's flower gardens, along with helping his father on projects, flashed before his eyes. His daydreams shattered, as he blinked, and everything turned back into the horrid reality it was. Dead flower beds bordered the fenced off garden, and old broken pieces of furniture lay scattered across the brown, decaying grass. Stepping in front of the two and a half meter high shed doors, the first thing Roy noticed, they were unlocked, also something his father never left unlocked. Sliding them open, light from the sun, shone inside, revealing a dusty empty space. Everything was gone.

'How am I gonna take these damn things off!', Roy's voice echoed inside the shed.

Searching the shed, he found nothing. The shed was so large, it had a main room and three small side rooms, each divided by their own wall. This is where Roy's father would keep sheep, from time to time, during the winter periods. The first two were completely empty. Entering the third room, a small old pile of hay lay in the corner, which was now home to a rat's nest, and an old half-broken desk, was pushed into the left corner of the room. Rusted broken tools littered the top of the desk, so Roy decided to check the drawers. Each drawer harboured more rusted old tools, and other farm supplies. Within the mess, was one gem. A hacksaw blade, still in its original packet.

'Yes!', Roy screamed with delight.

Grabbing a half-rusted wood clamp out of the drawer, he managed to place the blade, hanging over the side of the desk, and use the clamp to hold it down. Spreading his wrists, as far as they could, to make the handcuffs chains tight, Roy began moving his wrists back and forth along the blade, slowly cutting into the hard steel. Taking many breaks, Roy had been going at it for twenty minutes, when the chain finally snapped apart, sending him falling to the floor. Beating the first challenge, he sat on the dirty shed floor praising himself for his accomplishment. Getting back to his feet, he set to work on actually freeing his hands, from the metal bracelets he now owned. Another daunting hour passed, and Roy was left covered in sweat, with many cuts on his arms, but most importantly free. Stretching his arms and twisting his wrists over and over again, he walked out of the shed a new man. As new as he could get at this point. Heading back around to the front of the house, he saw a stranger checking out his stolen car. Trying to hide was pointless, as the man had already seen him. A typical farmer, from what Roy could see at this distance. Greasy long brown hair and an equally long and greasy beard. Half torn blue overalls, tucked into some dirty gumboots and poorly executed tattoos, covered his forearms. Luckily it wasn't a police officer who had found him.

'Hey there buddy!', yelled the farmer, as he entered voice range.

The man came, half jogging at Roy, his arm extended for a friendly handshake. Grabbing it and greeting the man, he continued, 'I thought someone had just abandoned that there car, but I guess I was wrong. Names Billy and yours?'.

'Roy'.

'Well please to meet ya. What can I do ya for? Need any help?'.

'No, I was just looking for someone who used to live here'.