Time passed so strangely in the dark. Rene wasn’t sure if it had been hours or minutes as he was left alone with his thoughts. And what a cascade of thoughts they were.
He thought about Emory. About her worried little face when she found out that something had happened to him. He wondered what Ari would tell her, and how she would handle it. He pictured her lying in her little bed at Ari’s house, cuddling her stuffed dog, Mr. Bob, and crying herself to sleep. She’d already been through so much from losing Misha, and now…
Now.
Misha.
Rene thought of Misha. He felt closer to him now, in the dark, with death lingering ever present. Would it be so bad to join his husband? He’d wanted to, from the moment he’d seen Misha’s still form after he’d been hit by that car. Rene had wanted so badly to follow his partner right into the afterlife.
But he’d stayed. He’d stayed because he couldn’t abandon Emory. He couldn’t leave his beloved daughter behind. What he wouldn’t give to hold her now, to wipe her tears away, to tell her everything was going to be okay.
Rene thought of his past. Of the many different houses he’d lived in as a child in the foster care system. Some had been such dark and scary places. Some had involved dark nights, where he was waiting to see what hell came next from his surly drunk foster father. He recalled his foster siblings. Some he’d only met briefly. Some he’d created lifelong relationships with, as close as biological siblings, even if they didn’t always keep in touch that often.
He thought of Doris. Of the doors she had opened for him in the world. He thought of the wonderful holidays she had given him, and how she had introduced him to her friend Frank.
Poor Frank. The man had been a saint. The sweetest worker at the library, and now he was dead. A victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Rene couldn’t help but blame himself. If he hadn’t run after the killer’s van, would the killer have bothered returning for him? Going on TV certainly didn’t help. Frank was dead now, and it was likely because Rene hadn’t shut his trap.
But Khal.
Khal, who had to be down there somewhere with him. Khal, who had managed to hold on for a few days. Was there still a chance to save him? Rene was pretty sure he couldn’t even save himself at this point. Would he even get to see his friend again before he died?
Khal was something else. The thought of him continued to tug at the recesses of Rene’s mind, as though he’d always been a part of his life. Perhaps they’d met as children, and for whatever reason, neither remembered. Rene didn’t want to give up on him.
The racing thoughts were giving way to exhaustion. Despite the constant spikes of adrenaline at every little drip and creak, Rene’s body was utterly exhausted. He closed his eyes, not that he could tell in the inky blackness, and drifted off into frantic dreams.
He was Adam again, it was 1949, and he was walking through the trees at night on patrol in Korea, his rifle at the ready. Every snapping twig, every bird tweet was enough to have him on edge. There was even the low growl of some creature. He hoped it wasn’t a big cat, waiting to eat him for dinner.
He had to take a leak. He wandered over behind a tree, swung his rifle onto his back, then took a piss into the foliage, breathing out a long sigh of relief as he did so.
There was another twig snap. Adam quickly finished what he was doing and swung his rifle back in front of him. He walked carefully into the darkness, eyes peeled and ears alert for anything out of the ordinary. The next moment, he took a step and the ground gave way beneath him. He gasped and scrabbled to grip onto the soil, but it was too late. He landed with a pained thud inside a trap.
It took a moment for him to catch his breath. He looked up at the opening of the hole, which was probably 9 feet above him where he lay on the ground. He cursed himself for not being more careful as he sat up and spit out some of the dirt that had gotten into his mouth.
He thought about yelling for help, but he was pretty far from his platoon, and was worried he’d alert the enemy before any friends could come help him. He slowly stood, brushing himself off and shaking off his weapon to make sure it wasn’t gunked up. Adam felt around in the darkness. The soil was too soft. It was all likely to give way when he tried to climb, a theory he soon found to be true as he tried just that. He winced as he almost made it to the edge of the hole, then the ground crumbled from his weight, and he fell back in.
He tried again and again, but with no luck. Each time, he would slide back in before he could get a proper purchase on the ground near the top of the hole. He wondered if the sound he was making was alerting the enemy.
Adam paused to catch his breath. He could feel warmth on his hands, and though he couldn’t see it in the darkness, he suspected he was bleeding from all the effort. He had to think. It might be time to call for help, but again, that would likely alert the enemy faster than any rescue.
He walked around the hole, which was only a few feet across, stumbling a bit on a pile of dirt. A thought came to him as he stepped on the pile, and Adam rapidly began to dig at the sides of the hole, toppling as much soil from one side as he could, stamping down the dirt as he went. The pile grew larger as the hole widened, and with some effort, he managed to make a pile large enough that he could reach the outside of the hole more easily. He kept at it, breathing heavily and covered in dirt, until he’d made a pile about two feet high to step on. Then, hoisting his weight evenly, he finally managed to crawl out of the hole and roll onto the solid ground with a grunt.
Adam lay there for a second, catching his breath. When he looked up, he was startled to see a man standing over him, pointing a rifle right at his head. Adam put his hands up and slowly sat up to face the man.
The man said something in Korean. Adam was pretty sure he said don’t move, so he kept still. The man came over and snatched Adam’s rifle.
Without thinking, the pure instinct of his training kicking in, Adam kicked the man’s legs out from under him, and got an arm around his neck. He began to squeeze, as hard as he could, the man thrashing and fighting in his arms. It took seemingly no time, and the man was out cold. Adam lay back on the cool ground, catching his breath as he gazed up at the stars through the trees.
There was the thump of boots, and Rene was jolted awake. The lights came on, and he quickly pulled his knees up to protect himself as best he could on the mattress, with his right arm still chained to the bar.
The killer came in with a large tray. He set it on the ground, and Rene looked in horror at a number of implements. There was an electric collar and a tattoo needle among other things. Rene watched the man get on his knees on the mattress and go for the collar.
“No.” Rene immediately tried to fight. His arm was still restrained, but he kicked at the man, attempting to smash the collar in his hands with his bare feet.
“Now now,” the man said, “settle down.”
The man dropped the collar on the bed and knocked Rene’s legs aside as he lunged. Those giant hands found Rene’s throat and instantly began to apply pressure to his carotid arteries. Rene’s free hand pulled fruitlessly at the man’s wrists, attempting to loosen his grip, but it was no use. Within seconds, Rene was seeing white, then he was unconscious.
Moments later, he came to, just in time to feel the cold metal of the shock collar close around his throat, and lock in place.
“No.” Rene breathed, his throat raspy.
The man picked up a remote, and Rene watched in horror as he pressed a button on it. Volts of electricity surged through the collar, causing Rene to tense up and scream. Just as quickly as they’d come, the electric volts stopped, and he was left with his throat twitching and his skin burning, a gasping puddle on the bed.
“If you try to remove the collar, it will shock you. If you try to fight me, I will shock you. What you just felt was on one of the lowest settings. You don’t want me to go to 100, now do you?”
Rene shook his head no, not trusting himself to speak.
“Good. Now I’m going to uncuff you, and you’re going to lie on your stomach, understood?”
Rene very much did not like the sound of that, but he didn’t really have a choice. He nodded.
“Good boy.” The man leaned over Rene, who for the briefest of moments though of biting his throat, but didn’t relish the idea of being shocked to death via modified collar. A second later, he was un-cuffed.
“Lay on your stomach.” The man ordered, tapping the remote to get his point across. Rene slowly slid onto his stomach on the bed, his feet just touching the bar at the end, his arms supporting his head on the dirty mattress.
“Good. Now don’t move. I don’t want to mess this up.”
Rene swallowed as the man moved the tray closer to the bed. He pulled up Rene’s shirt, and Rene felt something cool being applied to the lower right part of his back. Rene jumped as he heard the sound of the tattoo needle being turned on.
“W-wait.” Rene breathed, but didn’t dare move. There was a searing pain as the needle touched his back, like cat claws dragging over a sunburn, only so much worse since he didn’t want the tattoo and couldn’t move away. He closed his eyes and tried to force his mind away from the pain, from the humiliation of being marked like this.
The man didn’t seem to have a care in the world as he drew whatever he was drawing effortlessly on Rene’s back.
The pain continued for an hour. Rene was sweating as he watched the man dip the needle again and again and fill in whatever twisted figure he’d etched into Rene’s body. Once, when the man had gone over the same spot one too many times, Rene flinched away, and was soon rewarded with another shock. He collapsed on the mattress, gasping, tears running down his face as his throat twitched in the aftermath of the collar’s shocks.
“Don’t move.” The man warned.
Rene swallowed, sucking in a shuddery breath, attempting to calm his body. The painful tattoo continued, but he managed to remain still.
Finally, the man wiped the excessive ink and blood away for the last time, and sat to admire his work.
“I think it turned out perfectly.” He said. “Helps that I had a good canvas.” He slapped the tattoo, and Rene winced.
The man put everything back on the tray, and shoved it away by the door, out of reach of Rene.
“Here, you’ll need your energy.” The man tossed a wrapped protein bar on the bed next to Rene, who looked at it warily. “Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned. Now, eat. And sit up, I don’t want you choking and dying on me yet.”
Rene gingerly sat up, acutely aware of the pain emanating from his back. There was blood everywhere. He ignored it as he opened the protein bar and gobbled it down. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was. The man walked across the room and grabbed a water bottle, which he tossed to Rene.
“Savor that. It’s the last one you’re getting for a while.”
Rene picked up the water bottle as the man turned back toward the wall. Out of the corner of his eye, Rene saw the tray with the needle. In an instant, he saw his chance, and he took it, diving for the tray. The second he was off the bed, he felt the sickening jolt of electricity pouring into his throat. He cried out, collapsing on the ground in agony. In the distance, beyond the walls of electric pain, he could hear the man laughing.
The electricity stopped, and Rene was unceremoniously dumped back on the mattress, a shuddering mess.
“I forgot to mention, your new necklace will go off any time you break the perimeter of your bed. Even without me here to press the button. See, there’s sensors in those bars there, and you probably don’t want to mess with them. Now just to be sure you don’t go acting like an idiot again, I’m going to turn the power up a bit. The kick that’ll give will definitely keep you from doing anything dumb, like trying to fight or run. Too much at the next level, and I may have to do CPR. So I really don’t suggest testing it.”
Rene was still trying to catch his breath, but he heard the man loud and clear.
“I’ll be back with a little surprise later.” The man said. “I hope you like it. And just so you don’t think I’m a rude host, here.”
He walked across the room and grabbed a bucket, throwing it on the bed at Rene’s feet.
“There’s toilet paper inside. Wet wipes. The works. Try not to make a mess.”
He picked up the tray and left. This time he left the lights on.
Rene closed his eyes and practically sobbed into the mattress. He couldn’t do this anymore. The pain in his back was searing. He had no idea what the man had marked him with. His throat was on fire. His whole body was in agony from the electric shocks. He half considered throwing himself off the bed and just being done with it, but then Emory flashed into his mind.
And Khal.
Somewhere down the hall, Khal was still there. He was still alive. Hopefully. He’d likely made it through all of this. If there was a chance that Rene could get to him, could see him again, he had to try.
He’d come too far to give up now.
Stories From Montana 