Running Home

Something Missing

I woke up, still in the trunk of whatever car I was in. I had somehow dozed off, even with the constant jostling of the vehicle on the road. My head hurt, and I was sore all over. I tried to readjust, but there wasn't enough room. The gag was beginning to become painful, but every try to loosen it was in vain.

I decided to try and attract any attention by kicking the trunk; however, before anyone noticed, the car jolted to a stop. The sudden halt flung me into the wall. The vehicle jerked to the side in a sharp turn, and stopped again.

I heard the door open and shut, and then footsteps walking away. Another door, further this time, was slammed, and I thought that I had been forgotten. I breathed a sigh of relief before realizing that I was stuck. I tried to kick the trunk again, and the footsteps finally returned.

I thought that brightness would flood over me and I would be temporarily blinded. The darkness of the grey room confused and disoriented me more than the sunshine ever would. I assumed I was in some sort of garage or workshop, but there was no way to tell if it had any other purpose.

The man standing over me was the same hooded one as before. I was unceremoniously hauled over his shoulder and up a few steps into another dark room. There was nothing much to see until the solitary lightbulb on the ceiling began to flicker.

The walls were covered in an enormous map. Pushpins and tacks stuck out at various intervals marking who knows what. I was gently set down in a chair, which was a pleasant change from being recklessly tossed about.

The man who kidnapped me had apparently been tasked with being my personal transport, as he was the person standing in front of me yet again. Someone new entered from the door behind me, and I tensed. Suddenly, the zip-ties around my wrists were cut, and the gag loosened.

I tried to stand up, but quickly became dizzy and fell back into the chair. The figure behind me walked around and stepped into the light. A boy was illuminated.

He seemed roughly my age, and he was probably about three or four inches taller. He had brown hair, a light complexion, and a few freckles that dotted his nose. He looked like an average teenager, and he had the same striking green eyes as my captor.

He took a seat in the corner of the room, facing me. The other stepped back, glanced over at the boy, then at me. He cleared his throat.

"I am Christopher Glen, one of the directors of the Anarchy Movement," he said. "You've been selected to join us in our fight against the tyrants who call themselves our government."

I was thoroughly confused. Our government was modeled after the remnants of America. There were three men on a council. Each had their own tasks: one was to make the laws, one was to enforce the laws and act as head of the council, and one was to interpret the laws. Everything was systematic, a and ran smoothly. No one wanted another nuclear war, so they left everything up the Council.

"These men control everything. They have taken away fundamental human rights that were given before they took power. We want our freedom, and we need you to attack alongside us."

"What makes you think that I'm against the system? Everything works. I was happy, living a nice life, before you tore me away from everything I loved," I said.

"You are going to fight with us, or everything you love will burn down in flames," he replied.

Author's Note:
I know the chapter is short, but I've been super busy. I'm going to get to writing more as soon as possible. Thanks for reading!