| |
by RichardUK
Colin and Ken had watched me being dragged into the clearing wide-eyed. While Chris pinned me to the ground once more with his knee, all the while keeping his hand clamped over my mouth, Andrew stepped over, pulled a length of rope from my pocket and crossing my wrists tied my hands tightly behind my back. As he finished and released my hands from his grip, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. Though with his hands still tied behind his back and securely gagged, Colin had seen a chance for escape with everyone's attention focused on me and made a bolt for freedom. Alas, while brave it was a forlorn hope - in a moment Mark was after him and grabbing at one of his ankles, he fell full length on what was fortunately fairly soft sand. With the wind knocked out of him, he lay still as his ankles were re-tied.
After this diversion, everyone's attention was once more on me. Andrew pulled out the only cloth in my pocket and said to Chris, "Have you another one? I doubt this will be sufficient to keep Richard quiet!"
For a moment Chris was nonplussed. "No, I used mine on Stuart".
After a pause, he said, "no matter, find me a short branch, about 12 inches long and say 1 inch in diameter." Andrew immediately disappeared and I was left worrying as to what Chris had in mind. The former returned in a few minutes.
"That's fine," said Chris, “now trim off the bark with your knife and I'll complete this one's gag!" After a few minutes, he seemed satisfied with Andrew's workmanship. The stick was now well trimmed, free of bark and relatively smooth.
"Right, fold the cloth into a pad and wrap it around the wood," my brother instructed. Andrew complied and handed it to Chris, all the while looking mystified. The latter triumphantly placed it across my mouth and ordered me to open up. Suddenly, I realized what he had in mind and began struggling furiously.
"Hold him!" Chris ordered and Andrew seized my nose between finger and thumb. Unable to shake him off, I nevertheless clamped my jaws tight shut as I writhed around on the ground trying to avoid my persecutors. They both knew however that this could not last – finally, in desperation I opened my mouth to take in a deep breath and Chris forced the padded stick between my teeth.
"OK, I've got it! Get some cord and tie it in place." I felt Andrew's hands looping rope around the wood and tying it tightly at the back of my head. The stick was pulled hard back into my mouth, forcing my teeth apart and leaving me incapable of any noise more than a faint mmmpppfh.
"Sorry about that, Titch," said my brother. "We'll try to make you a little more comfortable when we have you back at base."
My mind was racing. It was quite clear from what I had overheard earlier that the opposition had at least one, probably two, people guarding their base (and us shortly). I knew that James would realize something was wrong soon (if he hadn't done so already) and the longer we could keep our three captors occupied, the better his chances of making contact with Robert, David and the others, since there must have been no more than five of the enemy in the field. Colin's abortive bid for freedom had helped and I decided I would resist being moved to their base no matter what the consequences.
I now lay bound on the ground (my ankles had been tied) but my thoughts were interrupted by the approach of Chris. "Time to move out, little brother," he laughed.
Mark untied my feet and I was hauled upright by the other two boys. I immediately started to struggle furiously, lashing out in every direction with my feet, gratified by their groans as I made contact with their shins. I felt their grip on my shoulders loosen, shook myself free and dashed for the far side of the clearing. I was hampered by my bound hands bumping behind me and I wasn't at all clear what I would do in the most unlikely event of my escaping but all I could think of was to play for time. Not surprisingly, I was pursued and brought down as Colin had been earlier. Mark sat on top of me but I continued to struggle and kick out. Suddenly, I felt a firm grasp on my legs, which I knew to be Chris's and within moments rope was being wound around my ankles, cinched off tightly between them and securely knotted.
"That was a silly waste of time," said my brother, "particularly as you might have hurt someone. You are our prisoner and we need you to walk with us back to our base. Please co-operate or we will find some other way to deal with you." As a reply, I struggled furiously in my bonds all the while shaking my head. Lashing out with my bound ankles I unexpectedly made contact with someone's shins and heard Chris grunt. Once more my legs were pinned down and my trainers and socks were pulled off. It was clear Chris was becoming exasperated but I had gone so far along this path I no longer cared and we were certainly winning time. As I continued my ferocious but futile struggles he called for Andrew's help and while Chris pinned me down, told him to untie my hands and retie them in front of me palm to palm. These instructions were efficiently carried out and then, with Andrew's help, Chris pulled my bound arms above my head. He then tied a second rope to the lashing on my wrists, pulled them with some force, back behind my head, forced my ankles up over my butt and tied the rope to them. The effect was a sort of hogtie.
"What now?" asked Mark.
"We'll carry him, since he isn't prepared to walk," Chris replied. "Look in the tents and you should find a stave - fetch it!"
While Mark was busy, he turned his attention to my two compatriots who were looking wide-eyed at me and wondering what would happen next.
"Can I assume you are both willing to co-operate now?" he asked. The two bound boys nodded vigorously.
"Good, but to make sure you don't try to run off like Colin did earlier we will hobble your ankles. Don't worry, you will have no difficulty walking but running will be out of the question."
He left Andrew to deal with my friends, untying their ankles and then retying them with a piece of rope approximately eighteen inches long, as Mark returned with the staff, an Ash pole six feet long and about 1 inches in diameter.
Chris rolled me over onto my side and said, "Are you going to be sensible and come quietly?" I had come too far now to give in - I shook my head and glared fiercely back over my gag.
Reluctantly, he shrugged his shoulders and told Mark to push the staff between my bound wrists, down behind my back and then between my ankles. Tied as I was, resistance was out of the question and his instructions were carried out within seconds. At last, I realized that he intended to carry me suspended from the pole. I had experienced this on a couple of occasions before but then I had been carried "face up". Now I was to be carried face down, my hands behind my head, but being stubborn I wasn't going to give in now, so I resigned myself to my fate, certain that their progress would be much more difficult than if I had agreed to walk. Colin and Ken were hauled to their feet by Andrew and remained standing, completely subdued. The rope connecting my hands and feet was removed but I was prevented from bringing my hands in front of me or straightening my legs by the staff holding them behind me.
At a signal from Chris, he and Mark slowly lifted the pole, I felt my weight gradually taken by the lashings on my wrists and ankles and I suddenly found myself in mid air, swinging gently from the staff, my head hanging down between my bound arms. Andrew prodded his prisoners who moved out without any resistance, followed by my bearers and me.
Our captors made no effort to use any cover on their trek and it was therefore accomplished without incident in a little over five minutes. As we were marched into the clearing outside Mike's patrol hut, we were met by Simon and Graham (two irregular players, both 14) who were clearly to be our guards. I was lowered to the ground and lay quite still while Colin and Ken were made to sit and their ankles were retied. The pole was withdrawn, my hands were untied, pulled behind my back, and my wrists crossed and once again I found myself trussed like my two friends.
"Fetch some water," Chris instructed one of the other boys, and while he was gone he removed our gags.
"You all must be thirsty," he said. He looked at me and added, "We will leave your mouths free until you have had a drink. How are you feeling, not too sore, Titch?"
"Oh, I'm fine," I grinned. "You had to do what you had to do, and so did I." He left us sitting together while the others withdrew into a huddle on the far side of the clearing. I guessed they were discussing their tactics. We at least had a few moments to discuss our predicament.
Colin and Ken were desperate to enquire after me but I assured them all was well - my arms and legs just ached a little.
"Why did you not just agree to walk here?" they both asked. I explained that James and I had realized something was wrong, that I had come to warn them too late, arriving just before my brother appeared. Chris knew the initial hiding places of all our team (we had forgotten for the moment that poor Stuart was also being held captive somewhere) and that by delaying him for as long as possible, James would have a better chance of getting them out of danger. Dusk was beginning to fall and we had an advantage over my brother in that we knew these woods much better than he did. They agreed my plan had probably succeeded but were concerned at the cost to me. I reassured them that I was fine although my wrists were a little sore, not helped by being once more tightly bound behind my back. In this they assured me I wasn't alone!
Simon returned with water bottles and our captors approached us in a group, although I noticed Andrew slip quietly away. We drank greedily as the bottles were held to our lips. As we were all finished, the bushes opposite parted and Andrew returned, pushing Stuart before him. As the latter staggered into the clearing, I was shocked by the change wrought in my pal. He was of course tightly gagged and in addition to his hands being tied behind his back his arms had also been pulled behind him and bound so that his elbows were touching (fortunately Stuart was, like me, both slim and very flexible). Stuart was fair haired and very particular about his appearance, always seeming to be immaculate even when dressed in nothing but shorts and tee shirt. He was one of the few to have arrived today in a white shirt but now this latter garment was missing and he was clothed simply in his blue shorts. When he had been left hidden and tied up earlier he had obviously used considerable exertion to free himself (a futile effort in view of his bound arms). His fair hair, normally immaculately groomed was now lank with sweat and filthy with the dirt and sand it had attracted. His chest and face were similarly caked with grime and the sweat still glistened on his ribs. He was now unbelievably disheveled and dirty and looked the epitome of a kidnap victim! As he was forced face down onto the ground, he shot his captor an angry look - he obviously was aware of Chris's treachery. After a few moments, his elbows were freed, his ankles were tied and he was allowed to sit with the rest of us while he drank gratefully from the proffered bottle...
Comments and feedback
|