I opened my eyes. Noah’s lay face down on carpet, clothed only in boxer shorts. His skin looked pasty.
The back of my head throbbed. I tried to sit up but it wasn’t easy. My hands were also tied from behind. It felt like ties—like the ones Noah had. Saliva pooled around my right lip but the tape around my mouth kept it in place. I struggled to move my feet, but the rope that bound them made it tough. Whoever knocked me out took the time to remove my running shoes.
I edged closer to Noah. With my elbow, I moved my body. My head rested on his feet so prodded him with my head. He didn’t stir. I dragged my hip to place myself higher. When I got my face up to his knees, I lay my head on the top of his legs. His body still warm. I heard him breathing.
Thank God!
“He’s alive, Jake.”
A famili
