there because his Mother was sick, and he hoped he didn't have the same sickness she had, because he hadn't been feeling good. One of the younger men took a couple steps back.
"Do ya know whur yer at right now?" said the older man. "I guess I'm in your barn" Jeremy said. The closest man kicked him in the already injured ribs and Jeremy screamed out in pain. Then , the man punched him in the mouth and told him to "shutcher pie hole."
He knew his lips were busted and a new trickle of blood ran down his chin. The thought came to mind to ask them how he was supposed to answer questions if his pie hole was shut, but he kept that thought to himself.
"We gon' letcher go but it'd be a dam shame if ya tell inywun whur we's at 'cause we'd huntcha down an' whup ya reel gud, an' skin ya livin" the old guy said. "Wur keepin' dem clothes so's if'n we need um. Jay heer's gon' cutcha loose and ya bes' high tail it outa heer fas' as ya kin. Yer gittin' sompin' ta 'member us by on yer way."
"Jay" pulled out a knife that looked as big as a machete, and Jeremy felt a chill run down his entire body. His heart felt like it jumped up into his throat. He almost passed out again when "Jay" went around to the back of the post and split the zip tie around his wrists.
Jeremy slowly pulled himself to his feet by holding to the post for support. His shoulders and ribs were screaming in pain, and he saw a few traveling light spots.
He started for the door, and Jay put a big ol' nasty fist into his face again. Jeremy hit the ground, rolled over, spit blood out of his dripping mouth, and pulled himself up on all fours. He headed toward the door. He couldn't believe they were actually letting him go.
All three men began hitting and kicking him, and hootin' and hollerin' in some strange swamp language as he crawled toward the door. He went down several more times and that was the last he saw of the "inbred assholes."
When he finally got out the door , he slowly rose to his feet and walked away as quickly as he could put one foot in front of the other, which wasn't always right in the front of the other and wasn't very quick. He made it into the trees before he had to call Ralph a couple of times. He was still scared and wanted to lay down and die, but he kept going.
He was sick in the woods several times and fell to the ground too many times to count.
He ripped his clothing on tree branches and briars, crawled through brush and b rambles, and fell over rocks. He threw himself face first into mud puddles and sucked the dirty water down his throat.
He lost h is shoe when he had to jump in a cattle pond to get away from a pack of dogs that were snapping at his heels. He had to stay in the pond, shivering with cold, for several minutes before the last of the dogs lost interest and skedaddled off to chase something else.
When night threatened to come , he crawled into the hollowed out base of a huge tree and closed his eyes. He was tired and hurt too much to pull any leaves or forest debris over himself. He felt lucky to be alive, and he fell into a restless sleep while shivering from the cold and crying from the pain.
He woke when the s un was coming through the trees. He was so cold that he couldn't feel his feet or hands, and he stumbled east until the feeling came back in his legs. His entire body screamed with every step until he got so cold that he could hardly feel a thing.
He stopped only when he found water.
He was afraid to go to sleep, so he kept stumbling east through the night. He saw eighteen HDI's in total outside a gas station and an old farm house, but he stayed downwind and far away from them. He just wanted to get home. He'd left Corridor X a ways back and knew he needed to find I-65.
He began having flashbacks of his parents, placing presents under a brightly lit Christmas tree and turning to tell him and his sister that it was time to open gifts from Santa. He said he almost felt warm and the memories seemed real.
He kept
"Do ya know whur yer at right now?" said the older man. "I guess I'm in your barn" Jeremy said. The closest man kicked him in the already injured ribs and Jeremy screamed out in pain. Then , the man punched him in the mouth and told him to "shutcher pie hole."
He knew his lips were busted and a new trickle of blood ran down his chin. The thought came to mind to ask them how he was supposed to answer questions if his pie hole was shut, but he kept that thought to himself.
"We gon' letcher go but it'd be a dam shame if ya tell inywun whur we's at 'cause we'd huntcha down an' whup ya reel gud, an' skin ya livin" the old guy said. "Wur keepin' dem clothes so's if'n we need um. Jay heer's gon' cutcha loose and ya bes' high tail it outa heer fas' as ya kin. Yer gittin' sompin' ta 'member us by on yer way."
"Jay" pulled out a knife that looked as big as a machete, and Jeremy felt a chill run down his entire body. His heart felt like it jumped up into his throat. He almost passed out again when "Jay" went around to the back of the post and split the zip tie around his wrists.
Jeremy slowly pulled himself to his feet by holding to the post for support. His shoulders and ribs were screaming in pain, and he saw a few traveling light spots.
He started for the door, and Jay put a big ol' nasty fist into his face again. Jeremy hit the ground, rolled over, spit blood out of his dripping mouth, and pulled himself up on all fours. He headed toward the door. He couldn't believe they were actually letting him go.
All three men began hitting and kicking him, and hootin' and hollerin' in some strange swamp language as he crawled toward the door. He went down several more times and that was the last he saw of the "inbred assholes."
When he finally got out the door , he slowly rose to his feet and walked away as quickly as he could put one foot in front of the other, which wasn't always right in the front of the other and wasn't very quick. He made it into the trees before he had to call Ralph a couple of times. He was still scared and wanted to lay down and die, but he kept going.
He was sick in the woods several times and fell to the ground too many times to count.
He ripped his clothing on tree branches and briars, crawled through brush and b rambles, and fell over rocks. He threw himself face first into mud puddles and sucked the dirty water down his throat.
He lost h is shoe when he had to jump in a cattle pond to get away from a pack of dogs that were snapping at his heels. He had to stay in the pond, shivering with cold, for several minutes before the last of the dogs lost interest and skedaddled off to chase something else.
When night threatened to come , he crawled into the hollowed out base of a huge tree and closed his eyes. He was tired and hurt too much to pull any leaves or forest debris over himself. He felt lucky to be alive, and he fell into a restless sleep while shivering from the cold and crying from the pain.
He woke when the s un was coming through the trees. He was so cold that he couldn't feel his feet or hands, and he stumbled east until the feeling came back in his legs. His entire body screamed with every step until he got so cold that he could hardly feel a thing.
He stopped only when he found water.
He was afraid to go to sleep, so he kept stumbling east through the night. He saw eighteen HDI's in total outside a gas station and an old farm house, but he stayed downwind and far away from them. He just wanted to get home. He'd left Corridor X a ways back and knew he needed to find I-65.
He began having flashbacks of his parents, placing presents under a brightly lit Christmas tree and turning to tell him and his sister that it was time to open gifts from Santa. He said he almost felt warm and the memories seemed real.
He kept
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