72 Hours, Ch. 6
Lance grunted in frustration and closed his eyes in an effort to dam up the tears that were threatening to fall. It had been at least fifteen…maybe twenty minutes since he had awakened to find himself, along with Joey and JC, tied up in, what looked like, a basement or storm cellar. Once he had made some sort of sense of what may have happened to them, he had been able to awaken JC, who was now lying on his side, watching the efforts being made in bringing Joey to consciousness from a distance, quietly grunting into his gag in what could be described as sounds of encouragement…at least that was what Lance was hoping. The pair had decided through messages written crudely in the loosely packed dirt on the floor that it would probably be better if they didn’t remove their gags…at least for now…not until they had a better sense of what their kidnappers were like. They both realized that they were taking a chance in moving off their mattresses and Lance had made the decision to be the one to go to Joey since he was not as thoroughly bound as JC, who had a layer of tape wrapped about his legs just below the knee. Although his movements had been clumsy, JC probably would have found it next to impossible to move the short distance between his mattress and Joeys…especially if those who were holding him decided to pay them an unexpected visit.
Lance stopped long enough from his ministrations on Joey and turned to look back over his shoulder at JC, trying to gauge whether or not he needed help, but his blue eyes told a different story…they were opened wide and questioning. Lance shrugged his shoulders the best that he could then nodded and quietly sighed, conveying the message that he was getting no where in trying to awaken Joey. JC returned the nod, indicating that he understood the younger man’s frustrations and watched as Lance once again turned back around before bending over Joey’s still form.
After a few more minutes of trying to awaken Joey, Lance was just about ready to give up…his lack of success was beginning to scare him, making him realize how close he could be to panicking. Added to that fear for Joey’s well-being was the fact that he was still having heart palpitations and the intensity of the irregular beats was not letting up, making it difficult to catch his breath, much less even take in a full, deep breath…the thick tape gag covering his mouth wasn’t helping in that department either. Although his hands were handcuffed before him, he had, for some reason, found it next to impossible to try to undo the gag, so he was stuck until he made it back over to JC again. He would just have to take the chance that the kidnappers would be angry, but he’d rather face that than possibly suffocating. With those problems weighing in on him, he was finding it increasingly difficult to remain focused on the task at hand…waking Joey up.
‘Joey…Joey…come on…wake up,’ Lance inwardly encouraged the inert figure as he gently patted his friend’s face with shaking, sweaty hands. Joey remained unmoving beneath Lance’s hands and the young man bent closer to the still face below him and gently lifted one of Joey’s eyelids like he had seen their doctor, Kenneth Shannon do on several occasions. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, but at least he felt as if he was doing something.
‘Your pupils are huge, Joe,’ he thought in amazement, as he gazed into the unseeing, honey brown eyes before him…the dim light in the room making it slightly difficult to actually distinguish the dark pupils from the brown color of his friend’s eyes…just a thin rim of color could be seen.
Unknown to Lance, the overriding reason behind his friend’s unconsciousness was that the kidnappers had injected the older man with medications that heavily sedated him and as a result, his pupils were especially large…practically taking over the dark color of his eyes.
‘Maybe they hit him over the head? Maybe that’s why he won’t wake up and his eyes look like that?’ Lance reasoned with himself after raising his body into a rather awkward position. He seemed to remember a time that Justin had fallen and hit his head during the previous summer. After being very briefly unconscious, his eyes had seemed out of focus once he had awakened and his pupils had been abnormally large…so much so that there had been hardly any bright blue color to his eyes.
With those thoughts in mind, Lance formed a plan and cautiously began to put it into action.
‘Okay, Lance…gotta look for bumps and bruises on his head…be careful…don’t want to hurt him any more than he might be hurt…okay…careful…careful,’ he chanted in his mind while he gently began probing Joey’s head with shaking hands while at the same time cursing the fact that with his hands cuffed, his movements were rather limited and difficult, causing him to fear even more hurting his friend.
After what seemed an eternity, but was actually just a few seconds, Lance found on the back Joey’s head a large lump and hair that seemed crusty and matted with what was probably blood. He swallowed deeply as he fought down the shudders of fear coursing through his frame at the idea of Joey having been hit over the head hard enough to break skin and make him bleed. He knew that he had been similarly hit…his head pulsating in time with his erratic heartbeat was a reminder of that fact. For a few seconds, he lowered his head and attempted to take somewhat deep breaths and, for a moment, his headache’s intensity diminished temporarily…enough so that he could once again concentrate on Joey. He wanted to turn the older man from his side to his chest so that he could get a good look at the wound, but with his hands being awkwardly handcuffed and his ankles bound, he knew that there was no way that he could possibly turn the larger man without the chance of further hurting him if there were hidden injuries or, even worse, possibly alerting those people moving above them if Joey happened to suddenly awaken in pain. For now, he had to work with the position that Joey was in and he once again tentatively ran his hands over the back of the older man’s head.
‘Okay…a lump…humph…more like a goose egg…geez…why would anyone do that to you, Joe?’ he asked, the voice inside his head sounding full of disdain and anger toward anyone who would hurt his friends.
‘If I have the chance to get my hands on them…I’ll…I’ll…no…no…I gotta keep thinking straight…can’t let go of my control…can’t let go…keep it together, Lance…keep it together,’ he told himself as he bowed his head once again and struggled to take in deep breaths as he felt his heart take a few painful lurches within his chest. His swirling thoughts were tossing…confused…upset, but he realized that remaining calm was the answer…cooler heads would prevail…just stay in control of his emotions and, hopefully that would also help in keeping the problem with his heart from getting the best of him.
‘That’s all you have to do…stay in control.’ He seemed to be the only one fully capable of that task for the moment what with Joey not waking up and he and JC bound. He kept one hand on Joey’s shoulder as his gaze traveled to the windows overhead. If only they could get through them…surely they would be able to find someone to help them, but those thoughts vanished when he saw just how small they actually were…no larger than a cinder block…maybe even smaller than that. There would be no way that anyone one of them, not even JC, could even possibly fit through one if they even managed to reach it since the windows were at least seven feet or more off the ground and there didn’t seem to be anything nearby tall enough that they could use to stand on. Lance’s gaze then returned to Joey and remained there for several seconds while he gently ran a hand over his friend’s head.
‘What do I do?’ he asked himself as his gaze left Joey and traveled back to the figure, which was lying behind him.
JC opened his eyes as he sensed Lance looking at him and at that very moment more footsteps sounded from above. JC’s eyes opened wider in apparent alarm as his gaze bounced back and forth between the ceiling above and Lance.
‘How many are there?’ Lance asked himself before gazing intently at JC and holding up one finger then looking up to the ceiling, pointed and then looked back at JC, again.
JC looked at him in slight confusion, motioning with his hands of his uncertainty about the unspoken message and it took Lance holding two then three fingers while looking up at the ceiling before the other realized what was being asked. He held up three then four fingers while shrugging his shoulders, letting Lance know that he was not certain of the amount and the younger man lowered his hand to the floor at the information…three or four…they were pretty much outnumbered. Lance nodded his head at JC and tried to smile behind the gag, knowing that his eyes would give the message that they were going to be okay, but he was afraid that the smile would not even reach his eyes. He was too tired…too scared…too discouraged.
JC nodded his head at Lance and tried to return the smile, but he knew that he was failing just as miserably as Lance had. He pushed himself even further up into a semi-seated position with his leaning heavily on his hands before closing his eyes for just a moment…he was so tired…scared…he couldn’t decide which emotion was the overriding one…they were both strong. A small sound caused him to open his eyes quickly. He quickly looked up to the ceiling and didn’t hear anything else for a brief moment. Suddenly, there were more of what sounded like footsteps overhead and he gave Lance a wild, frightened looks which was returned in much the same manner. Without lifting his hands from the ground, JC frantically motioned for the younger man to come back to his mattress then watched Lance as he slowly pulled himself across the floor in his direction.
‘Come on, Lance…come on…you can make it,’ JC silently encouraged the struggling figure, all the while keeping an eye on the door at the top of the stairs, across the room.
* * * * * * * *
Breakfast was quiet and strained…the silence in the hotel suite so strong that it threatened to slowly crush the very breath out of Chris. Never before had he felt such despair in his life and he was unsure as to how to lift himself out of the quagmire. A sniffle caused him to look at the figure seated across from him at the table in the kitchenette. Justin didn’t seem to notice that he had the older man’s attention…he seemed lost in thought as he pushed his fork into a piece of scrambled egg then brought it up to his mouth. He closed his mouth over the fork and slowly chewed as he pushed about what was on his plate with his fork. No one really had appetites for the fare set before them, but according to doctor’s instructions, the young man had to eat something in order to take more of his medications. The doctor had visited earlier and had decided that Justin was in need of more rest.
Chris replayed the ensuing argument in his mind as he absent-mindedly mimicked Justin’s movements.
“I want you to take all of the medications, Mr. Timberlake,” the doctor said as he bent over his medical bag, closing it before straightening.
“No…no…Johnny,” Justin said, his voice full of desperation. “If I take that stuff, I won’t know what’s…” he began but a harsh look that flitted momentarily across the manager’s face told him that he was coming close to saying too much. The doctor had no idea what the underlying cause to his collapse was yesterday and it needed to remain that way. If the press happened to get their hands on what was going on, there would be no telling what the kidnappers might do.
“Justin…just do what the doctor says and we’ll talk later,” Johnny said, his tone strained while his expression did not change. He understood what Justin was afraid of…not wanting to miss the call…the news that the others were okay. But the doctor finding it necessary for the young man to rest in order to avoid another collapse was his main concern for the moment. He didn’t want what had happened yesterday to play itself out again. That had been too frightening…almost too much to bear.
“But…Johnny,” Justin tried to argue one last time, but he sat back against the couch cushions then lowered his gaze when he recognized the look that the manager was giving him while Chris sat down beside him and patted his knee.
In the meantime, two of the group’s bodyguards escorted the doctor out of the hotel suite that had been rented down the hall since no one wanted the man to see the suite, which was crawling with police and the FBI. The at least five or more men were prepared to receive the long awaited ransom demands or any kind of communications from either Joey, JC, or Lance or from the kidnappers…anything. So far, the wait had not been that long, according to the professionals, but to those friends and family, the wait was agonizing and seemingly unending.
* * * * * * * *
For Lance, crawling from Joey’s mattress back to JC’s was difficult and draining…his head was beginning to ache terribly and his heart’s irregular beats were beginning to get the best of him. Although the mattresses were set about 10 to 15 feet apart in a triangular pattern of sorts, the gaps between them could have been twice, even three times the distance as far as he was concerned.
JC watched Lance’s agonizingly slow progress across the floor with growing concern. He knew that Lance had to be feeling the effects of having been hit over the head, but there seemed to be something more…something…but what? His features were pale…almost gray and his eyes reminded him of the times that Lance had had…
‘Oh, no,’ JC thought as he suddenly realized what the problem might be…Lance’s heart. His level of concern escalated as he continued to watch the other struggle to pull his bound form across the floor.
Feeling JC’s eyes on him, Lance stopped his movement and struggled to take in a deep breath through his nose knowing that his lungs were screaming for air as his heart continued to sluggishly beat. He bowed his head and coughed as quietly as possible into his gag, hoping to jolt his heart back into a regular rhythm, but the tape covering his mouth hindered the efforts.
The cough confirmed what JC had thought the problem to be and he recognized that it was more than likely worse than he suspected and fear raced through his body as he realized that there was nothing that either one of them could do. Well…yes…he could do something once Lance could make it back to his mattress…if he made it back to his mattress.
‘Just a few more feet…just a few more,’ Lance told himself as he continued to move across the floor. ‘Almost there…almost there…gotta get this gag off…gotta get to JC…gotta…gotta,’ he chanted as the periphery of his vision slowly began to gray.
‘Stay awake…gotta…gotta stay awake…get to JC…get to…JC.’
In the meantime, JC began to scoot toward the slowing figure, moaning into his gag…hoping that the sounds would keep Lance coming…they would send some form of encouragement his way. In alarm, JC began to move quicker as Lance suddenly stopped moving and fell limply to the ground. A thin shiver of panic raced through JC when he realized that he could no longer hear Lance’s harsh breaths. As quickly as possible, he made it to Lance’s side and he turned the blonde’s head to the side in with shaking hands in an effort to find the end of the tape that was wrapped about his head.
Seconds later, he found the end and it didn’t take him long at all to pull the sticky mess from around Lance’s head. The last painful tug that it took to remove it from about Lance’s head seemed to bring the younger man to life and he came to with a loud, gasping breath for air.
In relief, JC bowed his head against Lance’s shoulder and quietly sobbed.
“Okay…let’s go downstairs and check on them,” Barrett said as he gathered a few supplies together and handed them to Cary. Lawrence and Zachary were still upstairs in their bedrooms, asleep after having stayed up much of the previous night…Zachary, drinking heavily and Lawrence, plotting the next step in their plans to take the remaining two members of Nsync.
The pair walked through the basement door and began walking down the stair, fully expecting to see the three young men still asleep on their mattresses, but the sight that greeted them was far from that.
In the middle of the floor lay a still figure with another bent over it, shaking it frantically while moaning into his gag.
Barrett immediately took the remaining stairs two and three at a time and dumped his armload of supplies on the ground with Cary right on his heels doing the same.
JC didn’t seem to notice that anyone had entered the room and he barely recognized the fact that two of the kidnappers were now bent over Lance after having pushed him to the side.
“Pull off his gag, now,” Cary ordered Barrett, barely taking enough time to point at JC, who was cowering from the approaching figure. “Ask him what happened.”
In two strides, Barrett was at JC’s side and unceremoniously he grabbed the brunette’s head and pushed it down to the ground so that he could grab the end of the tape, which was at the back of his head. Within seconds, JC let out a short scream as the tape was ripped away from his face, pulling not only skin but also hair away with it.
“Is he okay? Is he?” were the first words out of JC’s mouth as he struggled frantically against Barrett to reach Lance’s side.
Cary did not readily answer the questions since he was busy making sure Lance’s airway was unobstructed. He had the blond lying on his side, his mouth opened so that he could run two fingers inside it. After finding his airway to be clear and his breathing to be stronger than when he had first reached Lance’s limp figure, Cary turned the young man from his side to his back.
“Please…is he breathing okay?” JC asked, his voice choked with emotion as he continued to watch what was going on before him, but he continued to remain ignored and his level of panic and anxiety reached new levels.
“Barrett…help me out here,” Cary said as he put his hands under Lance’s shoulders while the other man lifted his legs. The pair lifted Lance’s lifeless form and carried him the short distance to his mattress then carefully placed him on it.
“Please…please…is he okay…tell…me,” JC quietly pleaded from his position on the floor.
“Yes…he is,” Cary said, relief evident in his voice as he sat back on his heels then looked at JC as he ran a shaking hand through his hair. “It looks like he just fainted…that’s all. His heartbeat is a little irregular and…”
“He couldn’t breathe…he couldn’t and that’s why he passed out,” JC said, his voice beginning to reveal the depth of his fear and anger. “He’s supposed to be able to cough it out when his heart acts up, but he couldn’t because of that tape…he hadn’t taken his pills since yesterday...he was scared…he…he…”
JC’s voice choked and he bowed his head when he felt tears beginning to well up. He didn’t want to give these two men the satisfaction of seeing just how frightened he had been and it was at that point that the feeling anger began to surge through him…anger and intense fear. He had nearly lost Lance and he had been powerless…helpless to do anything to help his friend. He brought his head back up and he gazed intently at the two men still kneeling before Lance…the sight brought an even deeper sense of anger. Before he even thought about the consequences of what he was about to do, he spoke in a voice that would let the pair know that his words were not any empty threat…far from it.
“If something happens to Lance…or Joey, so help me…you won’t be able to hide…anywhere.”
“Those are strong words coming from someone in your position, Mr. Chasez,” a voice said from overhead before Cary and Barrett had the chance to reply and all eyes looked up to see Lawrence and Zachary descending the stairs.
“See what can happen when you don’t follow instructions, Mr. Chasez? Your friends begin to suffer.”
JC shook his head no.
“No…he has a heart condition and this situation aggravated it,” JC protested, lashing out in anger at the two newcomers, but his bravado did not last long when Lawrence nodded his head at Zachary, who then bent over Joey’s still form and grabbed a handful of the young man’s hair…a small moan escaped from behind Joey’s gag, although he remained unconscious.
“Remember what we warned you about, Mr. Chasez…you and your mouth?”
“No…no…don’t,” JC said as the anger in his voice was replaced with a pleading quality as he watched the man holding Joey by the hair pull a knife out of his pant pocket. He realized his mistake too late and now Joey might possibly suffer another injury all due to him.
