Amnesia

V.

The screams from the other seven people in the cargo area of the truck were almost musical in how well they flowed together. They all scrambled to their feet, which ended up being useless when the panicked driver once again slammed on the brakes, sending them all crashing into the metal wall. That didn't stop Yoongi from slapping Namjoon's hand - the one that wasn't dripping with blood.

"What the hell, Joon!" Yoongi screamed. He then screamed something in Korean that Remy couldn't understand but assumed the general theme to be 'I didn't mean for you to literally try to kill yourself, you absolute idiot!'

Namjoon completed ignored the panicked shouts all around him. In fact, he added to the effect when he cupped his slapped hand and collected several drops of blood before smearing it around his mouth.

A startling silence filled the air without anyone speaking. And, as Remy realized, there was no roar of a truck engine.

"He's lost his mind!" Jimin screeched, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. From the front, two car doors slammed shut, and finally, Namjoon's actions made sense to Remy.

"Shit!" she cursed, and dove for one of the discarded ropes on the floor, loosely wrapping it around her wrist behind her back. "Put the ties back on! Quick!" she whisper-yelled. "Joon, a little warning would have been appreciated!"

"Sorry," he said with a shrug, not sounding all that apologetic. Meanwhile, the other boys scrambled to the ropes on the floor, an equal mixture of bewilderment and horror on their faces. "I kinda just came up with it now."

Remy wanted to point out that he looked like a psycho murderer from a horror flick with his own blood theatrically dripping down his face, but then there was a clanging noise from outside that made her own blood (that was inside her veins, where it was supposed to be) go cold. They were undoing the lock. While that normally would have been great news, she would have preferred being given more time to come up with a good plan to not get them all killed. Or the worse alternative of being bought by the highest bidder.

"Shit," she repeated, quieter this time. She looked at the other boys, who were still fumbling with their own ties. "Just try and look convincing, okay?"

"Convincing of what?" Hoseok half-shrieked.

That was an excellent question. "That you've been kidnapped, and you're scared, and your friend just randomly cut himself with a sharp piece of rusty metal and has probably contracted tetanus or something."

"But all of those things are true!"

"Well then," Remy said, "it shouldn't be too hard to be convincing."

He shrugged as if he couldn't refute the logic. What an odd conversation to be having with people that you idolized.

The lock clanged again, and the door rolled open. They all covered their eyes as the bright daytime California sun burst into the area. Remy hadn't really noticed how dark it was in the truck, as her eyes had been so well-adjusted.

"What happened?" the deep voice asked.

When Remy managed to squint in the direction of the door, she found out that her assumptions about the deep voice belonging to the big man were correct. She wondered if they realized that they were allowing her to see them again, rather than blindfolding her or something. Then again, maybe not. They didn't seem like the sharpest pair of tools in the woodshed.

Or maybe they were underestimating her. Maybe they thought that if they scared her enough, she wouldn't tell anybody who or what she saw. Well, she thought, if they were looking for someone frightened and submissive, they stabbed a needle in the neck of the wrong girl. She was no longer the frightened, sniveling creature she had been as a small child. She would never be that creature again.