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Waking up blind was terrifying.
For Evan Buckley, that was one of his biggest fears, mostly because being blind would mean he would have to change his job, his calling, and he really didn’t want to do that. So, coming back into consciousness and not being able to see anything really put a damper on his day.
Him discovering it was just a blindfold because it was ripped off of his face was actually good, even if in that moment he realized he was in for a world of hurt.
It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the abrupt change in light. He was in a small room, his hands tied behind him against something cool and solid. He was still in his turnout pants, his jacket missing. His head was aching, which told him that he had at least a Grade 1 concussion, which he was not looking forward to dealing with.
The gun suddenly pointed between his eyes made him completely aware that he was not alone. Two young men paced the small concrete room he was trapped in, both armed. Both looked somewhat injured, with some scrapes and bruises visible through their loose and torn clothing. One kept glancing out the window while the other would walk the perimeter, point the gun at Buck, take five more steps, point the gun at his partner, then repeat the process. The window watcher flinched every time the gun was pointed his way.
Neither man could have been older than twenty, Buck decided. He made it a point to focus on both of them and try to memorize what they looked like, any identifying details that might be helpful later. He noted that both had tattoos, similar but in different places and were clearly done by different artists.
With more mobility in him now that he had something to concentrate on, Buck took a second to tug on his wrists. To his utter surprise, the ropes slid right off. Whoever tied him up was either trying to give him a way out or had clearly never learned how to tie a knot. He turned his head a bit more, quickly discovering that he had been stashed right next to one of the doors leading out of the concrete box. Seriously, five steps and he’d be out.
He did one more mental check on himself. Nothing new had cropped up. It was now or never.
Buck waited until both had their back to him. As soon as that happened, he quickly pushed himself up and through the door, landing almost right into the surprised arms of his partner.
“You couldn’t have waited five more minutes, could you,” Eddie said sarcastically a few moments later, after getting Buck settled onto a stretcher and letting the paramedics from B-Shift take a crack at him.
“Sorry, you know how my legs get when I have to sit on concrete,” he responded, letting a small grin show. After being prodded for a moment, it was decided that he didn’t have to go to the hospital, provided that he make an emergency appointment with his GP as soon as possible. He’d immediately agreed (he’d been in enough hospitals at that point), and hopped off the stretcher.
“So, why did I end up in that concrete room?” Buck asked, watching the ambulance move away.
Eddie sighed. “We’d just finished knocking down a house fire about a block from here. You were doing a sweep to make sure we got the last of the flames out. Next thing we all know, your turnout jacket is discarded on the stairs with your radio, and you’re nowhere to be seen.”
That had Buck chuckling. “Oh, I remember now. They are the two who started the fire. When I stumbled on them, they were trying to restart it, but everything was just too damp. I guess I pissed them off.”
“Understatement of the year, Evan Buckley.”