The next day, we got cereal in the morning and soup in the evening. Twice, when the guy came in to give me water, I actually got him to let me smoke a cigarette. It wasn't easy with my hands tied behind my back, but you take what you can get, right?
When I was taken to the bathroom I was let out of the chair but my hands were kept tied and I was kept gagged. One of my captors (they wore the ski masks whenever they came in so I couldn't tell which one it was) would undo my pants, hold my dick and put me back in when I was done. Apparently they were serious about not untying us for any reason.
The bathroom was at the end of the hall so I would pass the rooms my brothers were in. Both were laying in beds on their backs with a pillow under their head. They were both still gagged and were tied spread-eagle, with their wrists and ankles tied to the posts. I noticed each room had a set of handcuffs on the table. I guess that's for when they went to the bathroom.
By the end of the first day, I knew I had to do something. My parents wouldn't be back for another week. I was afraid of these guys getting impatient and just selling us into slavery in some third-world hole before they got back.
That night I decided to make my move.
The chair I was tied to was not in the best of shape. About 20 minutes after lights out on the second day I found a small piece of bent metal sticking out of one of the legs. With a lot of effort I managed to wriggle my hands near enough to it to start sawing my ropes. After 15 more minutes, my hands were free. It took me another 20 minutes to free myself completely from the chair. I pulled the gag down and spit out the balled-up bandana.
Quietly I crept to the door, slowly pushed it open and listened. The room our captors were in was left of mine and around a corner. My brothers and the bathroom were to the right of my room. I could hear talking from the leader and two of the others.
"The skater punk told me his parents are going to be gone for another week," one of them said.
"Yeah, I heard that, too," the leader said. "Fuck that. We can't babysit them forever. I'm gonna call Miguel. At least we can get something for them."
There were general murmurs of agreement and I heard a cell phone being dialed.
"Miguel, this is Jack. I'm an acquaintance of Carlos. Yeah, he was a great man. I'll miss him, too. I heard you are looking for workers for your Colombian enterprise and I may have three right here for you. Big guys. Strong. Should be excellent workers. 9 a.m.? Perfect. We're at warehouse 15 on 12th street. Adios."
Twelfth street. That was in the city about 40 miles from our house. I knew where we were! But so did Miguel, so I had to act fast. Just as I was about to head down the hall to my brothers, I smelled something. It seems our captors has started to partake in Mike's weed that they confiscated the other day. Perfect. If they were high, it would be easier to get the drop on them. I headed down the hall to the room Mike was in.
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