Scott Wittenburg - See Tom Run

“There are some chips in the pantry.”

“That’s real hospitable of you,” he said. He went over to the pantry and rifled through the shelves, keeping a close eye on Tom. He took out a bag of potato chips, a box of Ritz crackers and a jar of salsa dip.

“This is a start. Well, I think we should be shoving off now, dear. We’ve got a long way to go. Kiss your old buddy here goodbye, but only on the cheek, now! I wouldn’t want you to get all excited and want to screw him again!”

“What are you going to do to him, Kyle?” Erin asked suspiciously.

“Not sure yet. Probably shoot him.”

“Kyle, you can’t! He hasn’t done anything wrong! Just take me and leave him here-”

“Quiet, bitch! We’ve already been through this. He has done plenty wrong and I am going to make him pay for it. Just not sure how much he owes me, but I’m thinking his miserable yuppie life ought to make us about even.”

“Kyle, if you kill him, you might as well kill me, too.”

Kyle feigned a chuckle. “What a laugh! That’s just about the funniest thing I’ve heard all day! But your supreme sacrifice isn’t going to do me any damn good at all, so you might as well forget that offer. I’m going to give you a break though, darling, just because I’m such a sweet guy and all. I’ll let your buddy live if he really means that much to you.”

“Thank-you Kyle! You won’t regret this!”

“You’re gonna owe me big time! You hear me?”

“Yes, I know. I will make it worth your while.”

“You bet your sweet ass, you will! Now, Mr. Yup-shit, maybe you can tell me where you keep your duct tape. And if you tell me you don’t have any, the deal’s off. I’ll just blow your head off.”

Tom thought for a moment. “I think there’s a roll in one of the cabinets in the laundry room.”

“You better pray it’s there or you’re out of luck. I want to get the hell out of this place and I don’t have time to be looking around for a roll of goddamn duct tape. Go get the tape, Erin. And hurry before I change my mind.”

Erin nodded and ran to the laundry room. Tom heard some shuffling around and a moment later, she returned with a roll of duct tape.

“What took you so long? Now, you’re going to have to pull out that chair a little, old man, so I can get this tape around you.”

Tom scooted out a foot or so from the table. Kyle pulled out a length of tape and starting at Tom’s elbow, began wrapping it around his chest and the back of the chair. He wrapped it around no less than a dozen times. Tom could hardly breathe it was so tight.

“Now, your feet.”

He bound Tom’s feet together several times then continued wrapping the tape around the front legs of the chair.

“And now, just in case you get a notion to try chewing…”

Kyle proceeded to slap a four-inch strip over his mouth.

“There, now. Sorry you can’t say goodbye, old man, but that’s just the way it goes. Come on, wench. Lead the way out of this place.”

Erin stood up and faced Tom. “Thanks for your help, Tom. I hope you find your family. And don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.”

“Let’s fucking go! ” Kyle shouted.

“My coat, I left it-”

“I’m losing patience here. You have thirty seconds to get it or I blow him away!”

Erin ran into the living room and returned a few seconds later with her coat.

“Grab that stuff and let’s blow this Popsicle stand.”

Erin gathered up the food, glanced at Tom with a look of sadness and regret, and then ran out the door.

The moment she was out of sight, Kyle stared directly into Tom’s eyes.

“And this is for humping my girl!”

He brought the handle of the gun down cleanly into Tom’s skull.

When Tom came to, he started to bring his hand to the aching lump on his head and realized that he couldn’t move either of his arms. In his dazed state, he couldn’t immediately recall why he suddenly found himself bound and gagged in his kitchen or what had led up to it.

Then the events began to unfold.

Erin! She had been taken away by her old boyfriend, Kyle!

He wondered how long ago they had left. He glanced down at his wristwatch and realized that it must have been an hour or so ago. Too much time for him to catch up with them Even if he knew where they were headed…

He had to get out of this chair. He tried to force his arms out of the duct tape but it was hopeless-he could hardly move them even the slightest bit. He looked around the kitchen and wondered if he could somehow scoot himself over to the drawer where the kitchen knives were stored. He decided to give it a try.

He started rocking back and forth in an effort to get the chair to move forward. It took all he had to get it to budge. But at least it was possible. He continued rocking until he had moved a few inches, then stopped to rest. At this rate, he estimated it would take him three hours to get to the other side of the kitchen. If he didn’t have a coronary first.

Got to be a better way There was a possibility that he could get his hand into his pants pocket if he was able to get into the right position. He recalled that he still had the keys from the CRV he had borrowed the night before. With some luck, he might be able to use them to cut off the duct tape.

He squirmed to his right in the chair and at the same time dug his right shoulder into the back of the chair in an effort to guide his hand into his pants pocket. After several attempts, he managed to get his index finger inside. He squirmed and groped around until he finally had his finger inside the key ring.

Withdrawing his finger from the pocket along with the key ring was a grueling process. But finally, after a lot of squirming, stretching and grunting, he managed to get the keys out.

The car key was a computer type with several vertical grooves cut into it and lacked any sharp edges. The other key, which looked like it might be the owner’s house key, was a standard brass variety with several sharply cut ridges running the length of it.

Tom managed to position the key between his thumb and index finger with the ridges facing upward. He brought the key against the outermost wrapping of duct tape and began cutting into it with a back and forth sawing motion. It was like trying to cut a thick steak with a butter knife, but at least it was working.

Fifteen minutes later, Tom had managed to cut most of the duct tape away from his chest and arms. When he was down to the last wrapping, he brought his arms out from his sides with all his strength and tore through the remaining strip.

He tore off the strip from his mouth in a swift single motion, grimacing at the pain. A moment or two later he had removed all of the tape from around his ankles.

He was free at last!

With his head throbbing, Tom stood up too quickly and nearly passed out. Moving slowly, he made his way to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. There was a thick matting of blood in his hair where Kyle’s gun handle had slammed into his skull and a golf ball sized lump beneath it. The bleeding had already stopped, he was pleased to discover, and with a little luck he just might survive his first ever brush with a gun-wielding lunatic.

And he hoped that it would be his last.

He took out three ibuprofens from the medicine cabinet, returned to the kitchen and chased them down with a slug of cold coffee. Recalling the deplorable way Kyle had treated Erin-as though she were no more than a common possession expected to be at his beck and call-left Tom outraged. The man’s total lack of respect for her and his humiliating accusations made Tom livid and wanting nothing more than to get Erin away from the miserable prick before he hurt her any more.