Pieces

[Jay Carpenter]

They dragged him unceremoniously away from the tank. A sad defeat given how much effort was expended to scoot the distance in the first place. His wrist rubbed raw at the attempt for freedom. Missing the plastic tie as much as it was snagged, red lines scrawled the skin nearby, but if that kind of pain was enough to slow him down, the pounding head and puffed skin on his face would have done it first.

The three that filed into the room barely looked at him, but Jay studied each in return. None were faces he recognized from the rail yard nor any other outdated lists of McBads bubbling to memory. A few grunts and the migration was over, chair secured. Actually, the plates were clever anchors or so he discovered with first few tests of the contraption. Himself and the chair were definitely going no where anytime soon. He was watching the nearest one, waiting for whatever to come to come, when a fourth entered the room. Worry crept down his spine. Unlike the others, this one looked him in the eye. Strong, lean, methodical. Jay recognized some of the shapes among the tattoos.

Jay knew exactly why this one was here, knew exactly what awaited his immediate future. It was definitely bad, he thought, glancing at the makeshift display of instruments arranged nearby. Cayli and Natalie were safe. Cayli and Natalie were safe. Or so he told himself, forcing focus on that single mantra.

When the three stepped carefully around the fourth, avoiding his gaze and going out of their way to arrange things to his liking, finally closing the door gently on their departure, Jay licked his lips as he reached frantically for the power once again. Meanwhile, those dried out lips parted into an uneasy grin. “So… where you from? What do you do?”