Chapter 16

So far, Jack didn't see any sign of his kidnapper. But it had only been two, possibly three, minutes since the call. He didn't know how to pass the time. It wasn't like he had games to play. Maybe he could try to figure out who the murder-wait! A shadow of a person was coming towards the van, carrying something. Something heavy enough to slow them down. Jack typed with his nose: Kinaper is comin bac now. I try to stal. And he sent it. Then, he hid his phone behind him, and the doors flew open. Next thing he knew, Ann was beside him, and the doors were closing. He grabbed his phone, and shoved against the doors, much to the kidnapper's annoyance. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm trying to help, Jack!" He sighed, and pushed against the door harder. So did Jack. He didn't remember falling out the van. But he did remember running away, to the side of the building, hoping to catch the person's attention. He strained his ears to listen for footsteps, trying to even his breathing out, and didn't jump when his phone buzzed this time. Instead, he ignored it for now, knowing the glow would give his location away. "I didn't want to use this, boy, but I have no choice now. You gave me your answer the second you forced the door open." He heard footsteps....but they weren't coming for him. They were fading to the right side, and he was hiding off to the left, now peeking his head out ever so slightly. The kidnapper was still sneaking to the right. Jack drew back, and bit his lip when something poked his hand, then turned to look. It was a nail, sticking out the dumpster, sharp end visible. He could use this! He could cut his bonds and untie the gag! So, that's what he did. He rubbed the ropes on his hands against the nail, up and down, watching out for the kidnapper. After a minute, or so, the bonds became loose. Before they could snap off, though, someone jumped in front of him. "Found you." No! Nononono! Jack backed away, and looked for an escape, but he wasn't very lucky. The only thing he could do was run and try to hide behind cars. But it was something. And it could work. He turned around, and made a break for it, terrified. What if he was caught? What if he couldn't hold out until Oliver got there? He crouched behind a blue jeep, taking small, quick breaths, and listened. "My patience is wearing thin. And trust me you don't want to see me when I'm angry." Footsteps. An aisle away, maybe? He was thankful for all the cars that were keeping him hidden. He would've been found by now if they hadn't all been there. He tested the bonds. They were loose enough to the point where, when he pulled his hands apart, they slid off. First, he looked at his phone. Please, hold on, I'm so close. I'll see you soon. Then, he slipped his phone in his backpocket, after turning it on silent, and pulled the knife out, trying to calm himself. That only worked before a hand gripped his ankle, trying to pull him closer, but he kicked them, and stood, stumbling a little bit. His attacker ran toward him, a dagger in hand, but he blocked the low strike with his knife, and landed a punch in the face. He heard a crack and was pretty sure he broke the guy's nose. "You'll regret that!" Before he could blink, the dagger was coming toward his forhead. He barley managed to deflect it, so it grazed his cheek instead. He knew he would have to fight for his life. He was probably dealing with the murder, that no good motherfucker who killed his friend! He just didn't know if he would win.