Echoes

Echos

I came to, and noticed several things at once. The first thing was that I was being dragged. There were hands under each of my armpits lifting me uncomfortably, so only my feet dragged across the ground. My legs stretched out, trying to bend in a direction they shouldn't as they crossed the ground. My arms hanging limp at my side, the blood not able to flow through them, leaving a funny tingling feeling. My head hung to where my chin touched my chest, my neck bending awkwardly. My throat felt dry and scratchy when I breathed and tried to swallow, and my temples were pounding where I had been knocked out. My whole body felt heavy and confused. The second thing I noticed was the cloth over my head. The light that filtered through was red and it was wrapped tight around my eyes. It reminded me of those red cowboy bandannas that little kids play with. My converse squeaked against the concrete floors. The heavy footsteps of the people that were carrying me, sounded like big boots, probably black industrial looking, pounding on the floor. Stump Stump Stump Stump. The lights right above were bright white fluorescent, they still penetrated through the bandanna and were heard above the pounding of two pairs of boots, a humming noise.

We pounded through the seemingly endless hallway. Me and the four boots stomping and the two hands under my arms. I decided not to move or make a sound, to try to trick the boots and hands into thinking I was still out. After an eternity we stopped. The boots pounding, and converse squeaking quieted until the humming lights became a dull roar. I was thinking of standing up and bolting down the hallway but then the hand on my right shifted. I heard the sound of metal creaking behind me. A metallic screech, a door that eventually slid open. The boots continued forward along with my squeaking converse until they stepped on something else, the sound was muffled. As if on carpet. The echo lessened, we had stepped into a smaller room.

The boots walked a few paces, my converse now making slight noises against the carpet, then stopped.

"Drop her", a voice behind me said. A typical male voice, not super old but not young either. The two hands loosened their grip and let go. I hit the ground hard, and tried not to let a groan escape my lips. I lay awkwardly on the carpet letting the blood flow back into my limbs.

"Take off the blindfold, we need her to see this", said the voice again. I squeezed my eyes shut preparing for the light about to attack them. The hands, now four of them, reached down and ripped the bandanna off taking some of my hair with them, and hoisted me on to my knees. I slowly lifted my head squinting as I took in my surroundings. A medium sized room built almost like a classroom, completely empty except the middle aged man standing 15 feet across from me. He was wearing a crisp black suit which looked rather out of place in the empty room.

"Ah, you're awake", he spoke in a mocking tone. I stared at him, expressionless.

"Good, I have a couple of questions to ask you." A couple of questions, you kidnapped me for a couple of questions? I thought to myself, still managing to keep my face expressionless. I had watched enough crime TV dramas to know how this works. Someone was going to come along as he bragged about his plan. I just had to stall for as long as possible.

The man continued to stare at me as if waiting for me to respond. I didn't.

"Well first things first. We know who you are. Your name is Reyna Davis, daughter of Calvin Davis."

He said it like my dad was some important person, he worked at the post office. Painfully so, I kept my mouth shut. "He's got something we want. And we think you know where it is."

I failed, "Look, my dad works at the post office, so unless you he stole your mail, I think you're looking in the wrong place." Despite the situation I was still able to find my sarcastic humor. This guy was bonkers but he also had some huge guards.

"Well, if you don't want to cooperate we have other ways," he said darkly. He turned around and walked towards a door on the side wall I hadn't noticed. He opened it and went inside. I expected him to come out with a cart full out torture stuff but he instead he was dragging a person out. They had a red bandanna around their face, and rope around their wrists. He dragged the person into the middle of the room with one arm, the other carrying a small black baton. He let the person slump onto the floor, it was a girl, probably a teenager, maybe high school age. She had long light brown hair and a medium build. She was wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt. One that looked remarkably like my little sister's soccer team's shirt. He lifted her up into a sitting position by the hem of her t-shirt and took off the bandanna.

I gasped, "Jen!" She lifted her head to stare at me, and widened her eyes and started to yell out my name when bonkers guy hit her on the back with the baton. The small cry that escaped her lips drove me to the edge. I didn't know what this guy wanted but I wasn't about to let him hurt my sister. I struggled against the guards as they tightened their grip on my arms, my converse sliding uselessly across the carpet.

"So, unless you tell me what I want to know," he paused and hit my sister again, "Your dear little sister will pay."

I glared at him with all the hatred I could muster, "I don't know what the fuck you want just let my sister go," I growled.

"Wrong answer." He grinned, it didn't look right. He then hit my sister across the back again, and again, and again, and again. I fought against the guards. Trying to pull away from them, to get to her. I used all my might but it was no use.

It felt like hours that this went on. Jen's screams and my own melded together as if I were being beaten too. In a way I was. I could feel her pain as my own.

He paused, to catch his breath. His once slicked back hair was all over his face wet with sweat and flecks of blood. Jen looked at me, her face scrunched in pain, her eyes begging to have it be over. Her hair matted with blood, her t-shirt was shredded and red, everywhere red. My body shaking as I cried for Jen. She just wanted the pain to be gone, we both wanted this to be over. The man lifted her up, swung his arm back and hit her across the head. A loud crack. He dropped her and she slumped to the floor.

"NO, Jen no no no," I watched her mangled body on the floor looking for any signs of breathing or life, but she was still. I slumped down the ground, tired of fighting.

He sighed, "Well, that was a waste, shoot her," he said. I painfully lifted my head up to see his finger pointing at me. I felt the guard on my left shifting. Something cold and hard pressed up against the back of my neck.

A small click.

A loud bang.

Then,

nothing.