[44] The boys

The men found themselves locked in a damp, dimly lit basement room. The air was thick with the smell of mildew and stale sweat, and the walls seemed to close in, cold and unforgiving. Chains hung from the ceiling, and flickering light bulbs cast a sickly glow over the dirty concrete floor. Jean, Blake, Tyler, Jordan, Evan, Luca, Trev, and Brad huddled together, each trying to make sense of their terrifying situation.

Blake, his usual calm and composed demeanor fraying at the edges, clenched his fists as he stepped forward, his voice shaking. "Where the hell are we? You can't just keep us here—this is illegal, this is… this is inhumane."

The room's heavy door creaked open, and in stepped Slippery Joe, his garish, oversized fur coat swaying as he swaggered into the room. His feathered hat cast a shadow over his sharp, twisted grin. In one hand, he held a whip, which he cracked against the wall, making the boys flinch.

Blake's face went pale as Joe approached him, his mocking grin widening. Without a word, Joe raised the whip and lashed it across Blake's chest, the sound echoing in the cramped space. Blake staggered back, clutching his chest, biting his lip to hold back a cry of pain.

Joe leaned in, his voice a low, mocking drawl. "Didn't your mama ever teach you manners, boy? Around here, you don't speak unless I say you can."

The rest of the boys shrank back, their faces tense with a mix of fear and rage. Jean clenched his fists, his eyes blazing, but he kept his mouth shut, knowing that any word would only make things worse.

Joe looked them over, his gaze running up and down the line, inspecting them like livestock. "Well, look at this ragged crew," he sneered. "Nothing special, just a bunch of scrawny little lost boys. But you'll fetch a good price… if you're worth anything."

Jordan, despite the situation, couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, his voice wavering as he muttered, "What, are you planning to, like, sell us on some black market eBay or something?"

Joe's gaze snapped to Jordan, and he cracked the whip again, this time inches from Jordan's face. Jordan went silent, his face draining of color as he forced himself to stare straight ahead.

Joe sighed, rolling his eyes. "I don't think you kids understand the situation you're in. So, let me make it clear. You're my property now. Every one of you has a price. And if you want to stay out of trouble, you're going to tell me exactly what you're good for."

The boys exchanged nervous glances, confusion flickering across their faces. Jean took a cautious step forward, his voice tense but respectful. "What… what do you mean by 'what we're good for'?"

Joe snorted, his eyes narrowing. "I mean, tell me what you're good at. Skills. Strengths. Anything that would make you worth more than the sorry scraps you look like."

There was a moment of silence as the boys processed this. Then, one by one, they began to awkwardly speak up, clearly unsure of what Joe wanted but too scared to risk not answering.

Evan, swallowing nervously, raised a shaky hand. "Uh, I'm, like, really good with video games. Like, top 10% in most FPS games online."

Luca let out a weak laugh, elbowing Evan with a smirk. "Bruh, you're bragging about your K/D ratio right now? Really?"

Evan's face went red, but he shrugged. "I mean… it's something, right?"

Joe's expression darkened, and he clenched his jaw, clearly unimpressed. "Next."

Jordan, sensing the tension, forced a laugh and gave a small wave. "Uh, yeah, I'm pretty much the funniest guy you'll ever meet. I can, like, keep morale up or something? Crack a joke when things get too real?"

The whip cracked against the floor, making Jordan flinch. Joe glared at him, his face twisted in irritation. "I don't need a damn comedian. Next."

Brad, always confident, straightened up, his voice loud and proud. "I'm the star quarterback. Strong as hell, got the best arm in the county. You need muscle? I'm your guy."

Joe looked him up and down, sneering. "You think I need some high school football player? The only 'muscle' I care about is the kind that does what it's told." He turned his gaze to the others. "Next."

Trev, who had been standing in the back, stepped forward, his voice hesitant. "I'm… uh, pretty good with tech stuff. Like, Discord mod level and… yeah, I know my way around computers."

The other boys groaned, and Evan muttered under his breath, "Dude, that's just sad."

Joe pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience visibly thinning. "I'm not running a damn daycare here. Unless you can hack into a bank, I don't care about your little online mod skills."

Tyler, feeling the pressure to speak up, shrugged. "I'm good with people, I guess? Like, I can convince people to do stuff. You know, kind of a natural charisma."

Joe rolled his eyes, barely suppressing his irritation. "Great. We've got a wannabe manipulator. Not exactly the high-value asset I was hoping for."

Jean, seeing the frustration on Joe's face, decided to cut in, his voice calm but serious. "I know a lot about weapons and military tactics. My dad taught me a lot. I can shoot, I know how to handle a gun, and I know strategy."

Joe paused, studying Jean with a curious glint in his eye. "Weapons and tactics, huh? Finally, someone with a little grit." He looked Jean over, nodding slightly before moving on. "Maybe you're not all a complete waste of space."

Finally, Blake, who had been standing in tense silence, took a step forward, his voice shaky. "I… I'm a feminist studies major. I, uh, know a lot about… you know, gender equality and respecting women."

There was a stunned silence, and then, almost as one, the boys groaned, each of them giving him a look of disbelief.

Jordan whispered to Luca, "Dude, this guy's got a death wish."

Joe blinked, staring at Blake as if he were a particularly annoying insect. He ran a hand down his face, his frustration boiling over. "Are you… are you kidding me?"

Blake opened his mouth, about to explain himself, but before he could say anything else, Joe raised his whip and lashed it across Blake's shoulder, his face twisted in disgust. "You think I care about that kind of crap? I ask you what you're good for, and you tell me some feel-good bullshit about respecting women?"

Blake recoiled, biting back a cry of pain as he clutched his shoulder, his face flushed with humiliation.

Joe looked at the rest of them, his patience clearly spent. "You're all pathetic. I expected more from a group of survivors, but all I've got are a bunch of gamers, jokers, and wannabe athletes."

Jean clenched his fists, anger flashing in his eyes. He wanted to speak up, to tell Joe exactly what he thought of him, but the sight of the whip in Joe's hand was enough to keep him silent.

Joe let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Well, lucky for you, there are plenty of people out there who don't care if you're useless. They just want bodies. So here's what's going to happen." He leaned in closer, his grin returning as he spoke in a low, mocking voice. "Tomorrow, I'm putting you up for auction. And believe me, I'll be getting top dollar for every last one of you."

The boys stared at him, their faces a mix of horror and disbelief.

"Auction?" Trev whispered, his face turning pale. "Like, people are actually gonna buy us?"

Joe smirked, straightening up. "Oh, absolutely. You'd be surprised how many folks out there are looking for fresh meat."

Luca swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. "And… and if no one buys us?"

Joe's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Then I'll find other ways to get my money's worth. Trust me."

He turned and strode toward the door, leaving them alone in the cold, cramped room. As he exited, he glanced back, his voice echoing in the silent room. "Get comfortable, boys. Tomorrow's a big day."

As the door slammed shut behind Joe like a death knell, the room fell into an uncomfortable silence. The boys glanced at each other, their expressions a mix of fear, frustration, and exhaustion. The concrete walls felt like they were closing in, and each breath seemed heavier than the last.

Evan slumped against the wall, running a hand through his hair. "So, we're actually screwed, huh?"

Jean shook his head, his expression grim. "We can't just sit here and wait to be sold off like cattle. We have to figure out a way out of this."

Jordan snorted, crossing his arms. "What, you think we're just gonna bust out like it's some Mission Impossible shit? Bro, we don't even have a damn paperclip."

Tyler, who had been quiet up to this point, raised an eyebrow, his face thoughtful. "Nah, man. We need some real escape plan, like in Prison Break. We could dig our way out or something."

Luca rolled his eyes, letting out a groan. "Yeah, 'cause we've totally got time to just start digging through concrete with our bare hands. This isn't an anime, dude."

"Maybe it should be," Evan muttered, his tone half-joking. "We need, like, some Naruto ninja powers to pull this off. Shadow clones or something, distract the guards while we make a run for it."

Blake, who was nursing his whipped shoulder, looked at him, deadpan. "If you start trying to summon chakra, I'm not even sticking around to watch."

Jean let out a frustrated sigh. "Look, all jokes aside, there's gotta be a way. They have to feed us, right? Maybe we could overpower one of the guards when they come in."

Brad shook his head. "And then what, genius? We'd still be stuck in here, just with one more knocked-out guard and no way out."

Tyler shrugged, a smirk on his face. "Alright, well, anyone got any One Piece level ideas? Maybe a big ol' anime-style brawl is exactly what we need."

Jordan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I can just see it. The eight of us, taking on a whole gang of armed psychopaths. I mean, come on, we don't even have powers. This isn't Attack on Titan."

Luca sighed, leaning back against the wall. "Honestly, man, sometimes I wish it was. Imagine if we could just go Beast Titan on these guys and stomp our way out. But, uh, we're kind of just a bunch of high school idiots."

Trev, who had been nervously shifting from foot to foot, finally spoke up. "Well… we could… I don't know, use our brains. Like in Death Note. We could outsmart them."

Evan let out a laugh, looking over at Trev. "Dude, I hate to break it to you, but none of us are exactly Light Yagami here. We're more like… I dunno, side characters who get offed halfway through the season."

Blake sighed, staring at the floor. "So, what, we're just gonna wait to be sold off? Great plan, everyone."

Jean clenched his fists, frustration boiling over. "No, we're not waiting. There's gotta be a way out of here. We're just… not thinking about it hard enough."

"Yeah?" Brad scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "So what's your brilliant idea, Mr. Military Tactics? Got any genius strategies for escaping without a single weapon?"

Jean rubbed the back of his neck, clearly frustrated. "Look, I don't have all the answers, alright? But sitting here making anime references isn't gonna get us anywhere either."

"Agreed," Luca said, nodding. "We need to be, like, actually realistic here. Not like some Marvel superheroes or whatever."

Evan leaned back, folding his arms. "Fine, then. What about the classics? There's gotta be a vent around here or something, right? We could pull a Shawshank Redemption and crawl out through one."

Jordan glanced around the room, his face skeptical. "Right. A vent. And what, we'll just unscrew it with our bare hands? Last I checked, we don't have any tools on us."

Tyler shrugged. "Man, in the movies, they always just find stuff lying around. Maybe we just need to look harder."

Blake shook his head, looking defeated. "This isn't a movie, guys. This is real life. They've got us locked up tight. We don't even know where the hell we are—New Vegas, wherever that's supposed to be. Who knows how many guards are outside that door?"

Jean sighed, glancing around the dingy room, his mind racing. "We don't have to fight everyone, just find a way to catch them off guard. They can't be paying attention to us all the time."

"Unless they're watching us through cameras," Trev muttered, looking up at the ceiling. "They do that in all the spy movies. Maybe they're watching us right now."

Evan rolled his eyes. "Great, so now we're on some James Bond villain's radar. Just what I needed."

Luca chuckled, though it was more nervous than amused. "Hey, maybe we can use our 'amazing skills' that we bragged about to Joe. You know, really show off our 'achievements' and see where that gets us."

Jordan let out a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, let's go over our assets: a gamer, a Discord mod, and a feminist studies major. Real elite squad we got here."

Blake glared at him. "Hey, we're doing what we can, alright? Not like you've got any better ideas."

Jean held up a hand, cutting off their bickering. "Enough, alright? We're all just… we're all scared. But we have to keep it together. We don't know what's coming, but if we get a chance—any chance—we need to be ready to take it."

Brad snorted, crossing his arms. "And what, our 'plan' is just to wait for something to happen? Some chance miracle where a guard messes up or we magically find a weapon? Sounds like a plan to get us killed."

Jean looked him square in the eye. "I'd rather try something than sit here and let them sell me off like I'm property. So yeah, if it comes down to it, I'm fighting my way out."

The boys fell silent, the weight of their reality settling over them. Even the jokes and banter had started to lose their edge, and each of them seemed to realize just how desperate their situation was.

Tyler spoke up, his voice softer than usual. "What if… what if we just play along? Maybe they'll let their guard down if we don't put up a fight. And then, when they're not expecting it…"

Jean nodded slowly. "That might work. If we make them think we're cooperative, they might get sloppy."

Brad scoffed, shaking his head. "And what? Hope that we get a lucky break? That's not much of a plan."

Brittney, who'd been listening in the corner, added quietly, "Sometimes that's all you get, Brad. A lucky break."

The room went silent again, each of them lost in thought, hoping that somehow, by some miracle, they'd find a way out.

Q: How would you try to escape if you were the boys?