The Bond That Built Us

by KK Bauer

  When the man charges, I slip to the right and punch him in the side, the one holding the knife. He drops it like I hoped he would. He comes back around and rushes me again, only this time successfully pushing me to the ground. We struggle on the dirty street and after some time I finally connect my fist with his jaw. He slumps back and I stand quickly, looking for Aubrey. The other guy is throwing her into the back of the van.

  I see people across the street, looking on curiously. I yell at them to call the cops and they jump in alarm. One pulls out his cell phone while the girl slaps her hand over her mouth in shock. Before I can turn my attention away from them, I am hit in the back of the head and I fall back down to the dirt.

  My eyes flutter open, and my head throbs. I have to wait a moment for my sight to focus enough to know where I am. I concentrate my attention on the figure lying beside me. I lift my head slightly and see that it is Aubrey, still knocked out cold. Her body is lifeless and every once in a while, we both shift from bumps in the road. I must be in the van.

  I crane my neck up to see the front seat. The two guys are sitting there, the one that hit Aubrey is driving. The other man, the one with the knife, is sitting in the passenger seat, tapping his fingers on his knee to the awful Spanish music floating out of the weak speakers.

  I loll my head back and watch Aubrey, hoping she will move on her own at any second. Even in the darkness I can see the shading of a bruise forming on her temple. Her bottom lip is split open and she has smudges of dirt all over her skin and clothes. Her arms are behind her back, as are mine, and I can feel the restraints around my wrists. My ankles feel the same, and I look down at Aubrey’s feet to see that she, too, is tied up.

  My gut wrenches. It’s my fault. There were so many things that I did wrong, and they all came together and this happened. I tried to save her, but failed. Now we are with two kidnappers, awaiting our fate. I’ve seen the news, I’ve seen the television shows. I’m pretty sure our chances are slim to none, and if we survive through the week I will be extremely surprised. I’ve heard somewhere that if someone isn’t found within forty eight hours, the possibility of finding them is minimal.

  A sinking feeling consumes me and I take a deep breath, hoping that will calm my nerves enough so that I can accept my end. I look over at Aubrey, who is still beautiful even cut up and bruised. A new kind of feeling comes to me now. I can’t think like I was, like we weren’t going to make it. I have to think like we are going to get out, we are going to survive. I have to think that way for Aubrey. I have to be strong for her. I close my eyes tight and pray that we make it through. The soreness in my body pounds my muscles into submission and I pass out once again.

  I awake again to the sound of a large metal door sliding shut. Or open, I’m not sure because there are no windows in the back of this van. I keep my eyes shut, afraid if they see me awake it will all begin. I hear the van door slide open and hands are on me. They are none too gentle with me as they hurl me out of the van and onto a concrete floor. My shoulder and hip slam into the ground and it’s really hard to feign unconsciousness now. They grab the back of my shirt and drag me down a hall into a room. About a minute later they come back and a thud and a girlish ‘oomph’ sounds beside me.

  Aubrey.

  A door shuts and all is silent. I wait a little longer just in case, then open my eyes. The room is dingy and smells like a cellar- mildew and dirt. It’s dark, aside from the one small light bulb that is above us, swaying from a loose wire. The walls of the small room are made of gray cinder block, and the only thing I can see in the room is a small cot with no sheet, just the metal box spring and a nasty mattress. I flip onto my back and look at the other side of the room.

  There is a toilet and a bucket beside it. The floor slants slightly and comes to the center where there is a drain. I can see dark streaks running down into it, and I bite back vomit, knowing it’s probably blood.

  I turn back to Aubrey once I hear her soft moaning. She looks like she is in pain and when they threw her on the floor they left her on her back. Her arms are tied behind her so her back is arched uncomfortably.

  “Aubrey?” I whisper.

  She gasps and opens her eyes in a flash. She stares up at the ceiling, afraid to move.

  “Aubrey, I’m right here.” She slowly flops her head to the side to face me. Her eyes roam my face, the fear still evident in them. Her chin starts to quiver. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” My voice is raspy and for a second I thought it was someone else saying the words.

  Tears well up in her eyes and they quickly fall, leaving little trails down her temple and washing the dirt away. A few tears fall out of the corner of one eye and make their way down to her nose and fall off the tip. “It’s not your fault,” she murmurs softly. “I shouldn’t have left.”

  My throat constricts and I feel a tingling burn. She thinks it is her fault. I shake my head fervently. “No. Don’t think that way. Please, don’t blame yourself. You did nothing wrong.”

  “But I promised,” she sniffles. “And now you’re in trouble, too. You should have just left me.” She turns her head in dismissal and sobs, her body trembling.

  “Stop!” I roar. “Just… stop it.” She breaks down and cries harder, while my own tears finally crack through and roll down my face.

  11

  Aubrey

  I don’t know how long we’ve been in this room, but I don’t think I have another tear left. My head hurts like a mother fucker and my body is in serious pain. I don’t know what they did but everything hurts, even my hair. And seeing Kellan beside me on the ground in the same state crushes my heart. I shouldn’t have left, and because I’m an idiot I did anyway. And because he is a nice guy, he followed. I don’t really know what happened after I crossed the street except my hair getting pulled and me falling to the ground. I can still feel the tenderness of my ass and elbows.

  I can hear voices from the other side of the door. I lift my head as it swings open and the two men that took us stand there, the light from the hallway casting a halo around them. They step in the room with purpose, conversing between them. I can only make out a few words every once in a while, and I can’t connect them well enough to make sense of it. I should have paid more attention in Spanish class.

  One bends down and sits on his haunches beside me, eying me like I’m a piece of meat. Once he makes his assessment, he looks me in the eyes. I can’t break mine away from his and we stare at each other, while he talks to his comrade. A smirk touches his lips when the other one says something. He stands up and stretches his legs. Then picks me up and tosses me on the cot in the corner of the room, dust billowing up around me like a cloud.

  I cough at the smell of the mattress; urine and mold. My stomach clenches as I try not to inhale the motes floating and settling on me. The two men start to yell at me in Spanish. They are speaking simultaneously so I can’t even make out a single word.

  “I don’t speak Spanish, assholes,” I seethe. My lips barely opened to speak, the dust from the cot are still filtering down.

  They look at each other, then back at me.

  One steps closer and says in an accent, “Tell us your name, little girl.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  They look at each other again then one lifts his knee and kicks me in the stomach. I curl up into the fetal position and cry out. I hear Kellan yelling behind the men and they don’t even acknowledge him enough to turn around. He kicked the edge of one of my ribs and a shooting pain throbs all the way to my back.

  “Your name. Now.”

  I glance at Kellan, and he nods. “Aubrey,” I mutter.

  “Your surname? And where you live.”

  I sigh and consider lying, but I’m afraid they already know the answers and will hurt me if I do. “James. I’m from St. Louis, Missouri. You want my fucking bra size, too?” I snap.

  They both laugh, and one says, “Not necessary. We will know soon enough.” Wait, what does that mean? The panic rises in my throat
and I choke down the burn of vomit. The two begin talking to each other again, and when they nod to Kellan, who is still on the floor, I somehow understand the words ‘nothing’ and ‘kill him.’ I flip out and begin screaming and thrashing my body around, until I fall off the cot and onto the floor.

  “NO! NO! He has money, um… tiene dinero. Por favor. Anything, please.”

  “Aubrey, don’t!” Kellan yells.

  “You say you don’t speak Spanish. But you do. You lie.” His eyes form into little slits and his upper lip is curled up into a sneer.

  “No! Well, I know a few words, that’s it. I swear!” I am going to cry again. He is going to kill me and I’m going to be a babbling mess as he does it. That’s not the way I was hoping to go. I wanted to die old and wrinkly, surrounded by people I loved. My family.

  The man turns to the other, and I hear him call him ‘Carlos.’ Carlos is slightly taller than the one speaking, and his hair is cut really short. The other has long black hair that flops into his eyes, and he has a weeklong five o’clock shadow. He has chubby cheeks and his teeth are a tinge of gray.

  Finally they both turn to me. Carlos comes forward and speaks to me. “Why shouldn’t we kill your friend?”

  After processing what he said, I clear my throat and pray that it works. “He has money. Lots of money. We can get it for you, but you can’t kill him.” I choke on the word ‘kill’ and sit and wait while they mull over the information. I’m still on the floor, sitting on my knees with my ankles and wrists bound together. I don’t know what they want from me but hopefully I can keep Kellan alive long enough to get out of here. People always want money. They will wait for that. If they kill him, the money won’t come. I can keep Kellan alive just a little bit longer. I still don’t know why they picked me. Maybe because I was an easy target just walking down the street alone.

  “Okay. Wewill keep him alive for a while. But if you fuck up, he’s gone.” I gulp and nod, thankful that Kellan has a little more time. The two men exit the room, leaving Kellan and me alone. Whatever strength I had that was keeping me upright during the altercation with the men left my body in a huff and I collapse to the floor.

  “Aubrey? Are you okay? Aubrey!” Kellan yells, frantic.

  “I’m okay. Just tired.” My eyes feel heavy and my body is giving out. The stress of what is happening is taking a toll on me. “Let’s sleep,” I mumble.

  “Can you get up on the cot? It is probably more comfortable.”

  “Only if you are with me,” I think I say. I don’t really know if it is coherent. But Kellan slides on the floor over to me and tries to help me on the little bed. I am like a wet noodle, though, and he struggles.

  “Aubrey, come on. Just try for a sec.” His voice gives me just enough power to push up from my feet and arch my back to shimmy onto the mattress. He does the same, only more graceful, and we squeeze together on the tiny cot. I can feel him watching me so I will my eyes to open.

  “I wish my hands weren’t tied, I want to touch you right now,” he whispers.

  “And I wish we were back at the villa and I didn’t get us into this mess.” I still can’t believe it. It’s a nightmare that I am just waiting to wake up from.

  “Aubrey, it’s nobody’s fault.”That’s where he’s wrong. It is my fault, I left alone and at night. I was just asking to be taken. I wasn’t thinking then and acted irrational. But I don’t want to argue with him. Deep down he knows who holds the burden. Kellan pivots slightly to give me a little more room on the cot. “Just try and get some sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

  I nod and close my eyes again and somehow fall asleep within seconds.

  A hand wraps around my calf and I am yanked off the cot and onto the dirty floor. My head bounces off the ground and all I can see are black and white dots. The pain is radiating all over my body in waves. There is a ringing in my ears and I have the thought that my head is cracked open. I imagine blood seeping out of my skull and slithering in a stream down to the drain that is in the middle of the floor. When my sight becomes clear again, I see Kellan a few feet from me, a cut on his cheekbone and blood clotted around his nose. His eyes are closed but I can see his body twitching. He’s alive.

  The hand on my leg squeezes tighter and he yells in my face. “The cotis not for him! Only you.” His nostrils flare and he is scowling so hard, a vein in his temple is popping out.

  Carlos is standing above me and his hand releases my leg and smacks me across the face. Then he leaves. I’m so confused about what is going on or why I am here. I want to ask but am afraid of the answer.

  After minutes, hours, I don’t know, Kellan rolls over and opens his eyes. He sees me on the floor and groans. “Fuck,” he moans. He sits up and cringes, asking, “Are you okay?” He moves his nose around, a little like the Bewitched chick. The dried up blood cracks and a fresh new batch of red trickles out.

  “I’m okay,” I say. “What about you?” I’ve been staring at him ever since Carlos left. The pain in my head has subsided and my cheek doesn’t sting anymore. I’m sure there are remnants of his hand there but at least I can’t feel it anymore.

  He let out a humorless laugh. “Been better. What the fuck is their problem?”

  “I don’t know. He said the cot is for me, and you can’t be on it. Then he left.” I conveniently left out the part where he hit me. Kellan didn’t need to feel guilty about that. We sit there on the floor, speechless, just waiting for the men to come back.

  I don’t want them to, but we know it is inevitable. When they do finally come back, we don’t know how much time has passed. They come in with two bowls and two spoons. They set one in front of each of us, untie our hands, and leave again. I peer down into the white ceramic bowl and see chicken noodle soup.

  I am so hungry but I’m afraid to try it. I sip the broth hesitantly and when I don’t keel over, I devour the rest of it. I see Kellan doing the same. We both sigh in contentment. He crawls the few feet between us and touches my cheek with his hand. I cry, wondering if I was ever going to be touched gently again. I see red marks around his wrists and when I look and see the same wounds on me, I cry some more. He continues to touch me all over, assessing my wounds. He growls when I wince after he touches a bruise or cut. He still feels guilty.

  Another long period of time goes by before the men come back. They slide two water bottles toward us and when we are guzzling it down, they attack. I shriek, expecting the worst, but they grab our wrists and tie them together again, only in front of us.

  “What time is it?” I ask.

  The man who isn’t Carlos looks at his watch and says, “Thirty after ten.”

  “What day? How long have we been here?”

  He snarls at me, apparently perturbed at all my questions, but says, “Over twenty four hours.”

  He shoves me down onto the cot as I do the math. So it has to be ten thirty in the evening. Somehow we went the whole day with only having a cup of soup and a bottle of water. I am still shaky, though I don’t know if it’s from lack of food and water or from fear.

  Kellan moves so his back is leaning against the side of the cot after they leave. He is facing the room, his back to me.

  “We can do this, Aubrey. We can get out of here.”

  I scoff and roll my eyes, though he can’t see me.

  “I’m serious. They’re smart, I mean they managed to get us both, but they make mistakes. I don’t know if they’ve never done this before or if they are being careless, but they’ve fucked up plenty of times already.” He waits a few seconds before continuing. “Think about it. They took you on a busy street. That couple saw us, saw them, saw the van, and they notified the cops. They let me live. They aren’t hiding their faces, they unbound us for a while, then recklessly tied us back.”

  “So? I don’t think they care about that stuff. If they want to kill us, they will. Then what?”

  He turns his body and looks me in the eye. “We can do it. We just need to survive for a li
ttle longer and learn more about them. Then we make our move.”

  I chew on my lip anxiously. Talking about trying to escape scares me because if we get caught, there is no other way out. We’ll be dead. “But if we stay and comply, maybe they will let us go once they have the money. That’s all they want and then we’ll be free, right?”

  Kellan shrugs and looks down at his hands which are cut and dirty. “I don’t know, I don’t think so,” he whispers truthfully.

  I tell myself that Kellan is just being cynical and we will get out of here no matter what. But as I lie here and stare up at the cracked and stained ceiling, reality starts to kick in and I know. I know that there won’t be a way out unless we make it happen. The saying it’s always darkest before the dawn pops in my head and while I should use it as encouragement, I can’t help but wonder how dark this journey can go before dawn hits.

  12

  Kellan

  We are woken by the sound of the men in the hallway, laughing and yelling. They sound drunk. My whole body aches from sleeping on the floor. I wish I could be up on the cot with Aubrey, not just because it is just slightly more comfortable, but because I want her to feel safe. Well, safer.

  The men bang on the door and it swings open. They walk to the center of the room and pull the string of the light, illuminating the room. I look at the light bulb and when I look away, I see a big white spot.

  “Get up!” The men yell. One trips over his own feet and stumbles, while the other one chuckles at his wavering stance. Aubrey told me earlier that the taller one is Carlos. He is standing above Aubrey with a domineering look in his eyes.

  “We have a show for you,” Carlos says, turning his head to me. “I think you will enjoy it.”

  His arm juts out and he grabs Aubrey by the throat. She wails and pleads as he moves closer to her and sticks his thumb into her mouth. She shakes her head violently to try and knock him off but he clenches tighter on her throat and she coughs and wheezes a little and stops fighting.