The Revolution (On Hold)

Chapter 8: Right Between the Eyes

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The Revolution

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The Revolution

Chapter 8: Right between the Eyes

"I'm going to the bar. If you try anything I will kill every person in this town; including the women and children," he threatens after he finishes tying me to the bed frame. I can barely feel my hands because of the cuffs I was stuck in; and the rope's tied just as tight.

I don't speak; my head still feels foggy and my body is heavy. I've lost count of how many times that cloth has been forced against my face. I'm pretty sure my skin is burnt and I can't smell anything aside from the chemical.

"You know soon I'm going to have to start knocking you out the painful way if you don't start co-operating. I don't want to ruin that pretty face of yours," he smiles before he leaves the house.

It's hard to concentrate; it hurts to breathe. I'm assuming my lungs are burnt from inhaling the chemical, but I have to push through it. I have to get out of here. He's already made up his mind. He's not going to take me to his boss. He's going to keep me chained up and locked in a basement somewhere.

I won't let that happen. I inspect the headboard and then the rope. He thinks he's smart, but he clearly isn't. He did a clove hitch knot which is reliable but he needs a better knot than that to keep me locked up. I guess I should be happy that he underestimated me.

Now I just have to focus. I still can't see clearly but I can feel my way around it. I'm getting out of here and then I'm going to kill him; he's not going to hurt another person, especially not because of me.

It is night time when I get free and I search the house for any weapons I can find. There's a gutting knife in the kitchen, and an antique looking pistol and ammo hidden underneath some floor boards; the creak gave it away plus it helped I was basically crawling around on the ground at first.

Thankfully I find a teenage girl's room at the end of the hall. Her jeans fit almost perfectly, and her shirts and jackets are only slightly baggy. I pack a bag with spare clothes, water and food before I hide the gun in the back of my pants; making sure to cover it with the jacket.

It's going to take a while before I can walk straight, and think straight but it's now or never. I don't care if I'm arrested or worse; as long as that bastard dies; nothing else matters . . . Nothing.

I finish by putting up my hair and adding a brown cowboy hat. I need to hide my face slightly If I want to get close enough to put a bullet in his brain, or maybe I'll cut open his throat; either way I'm doing him a favour and showing mercy when he doesn't deserve it.

He deserves never ending pain and misery.

There's a man playing acoustic guitar as I enter the bar and keep my head low; my face slightly hidden. I made the mistake of looking in the mirror before I left the house. My nose and mouth are red raw; my eyes blackened.

I look like hell.

There's a few people scattered at the tables, as well as a few sitting at the bar, and I spot him trying to look normal in jeans and a shirt. His brown hair stands out like a light in darkness as he clutches his glass of alcohol.

I grab the gun from behind my jeans and dig it in his back; using my body to block it out of sight, "Get up; we're going outside," I instruct. He stands to his feet and I walk beside him making it look like we're a couple. It helps they're all drunk and practically swaying in their seats as the music plays; if you can call that music.

I guide him back to the house he "rented" for the night and I have one of his horses tied to a nearby tree ready and waiting for my escape; the bag sitting near its feet. "Are you really going to shoot me?" He snickers before I close the door behind us and kick out his knees.

"I'm thinking I might torture you first."

His body crashes to the ground and a smile surfaces on his face as he turns and faces me, "That sounds like fun."

"Rot in hell bastard," I pull the trigger and the bullet hits right between his eyes.

"What was that?" I hear one of the towns people shout and I head straight for the back door and grab the bag before I escape on the Appaloosa horse. If the wack job is right then I need to get to Colorado as quick as possible. I'm sure that's where Miles is.

Honestly I don't know how long I've been travelling; moving at day and camping at night. It's been nothing but a blur, although I'm healing nicely. It doesn't hurt as much when I breathe, and my face isn't as red and raw; even the bruises are starting to heal nicely.

I'm close to heading off the trail and finding a place to settle down when the fallen down street light flickers on. Okay I must be seeing things. I'm going crazy, or that nut job was right.

The power's back on . . .? The power's back on! I feel the relief sweep through me until I remember what is about to happen; that's if the nut job is right.

I gently kick the horse and he quickly responds; galloping down the road. I'm a few days out from Colorado. Bass has a chopper but Miles doesn't. All I can do is pray that I'll catch them along the way.

Only a few minutes pass before I see what look like missiles in the sky and I know exactly where they're headed. Those people are going to be burnt alive. So many people are going to be killed.

I don't stop but keep moving and the fallen lights suddenly turn off; it's almost like they never came on.

No, no . . . No.

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