Written by Lukas Tyler
Try as I might, all I could possibly see outside was mown grass. One by one, the doors to the cells opened. The guys in green pushed a gentleman’s head down. They kept us from hitting our heads as we shuffled, hunched, out of the cage. Thank you. The familiar face left. I wouldn’t see it again for hours. But my sense of time was gone. I had no watch. I had no phone. They were in my luggage, which was labeled “Lukas” on blue painters tape, in a clear plastic bag labeled “Lukas” on blue painters tape. Every rule I had seen, every request thus far, I had followed to the letter. I didn’t want to be a target. I needed to be good.
“Next!” some guy in green shouted.
It was my turn. I shuffled forward, clanking chains against the metal cage.
“Step!” Some guy in green shouted. He pushed my head down.
“Thank you,” I thought. “Thank you, Sir,” I should have thought. The sun was bright in my eyes. I hadn’t been in the cage that long, but my eyes disagreed. More guys in green stood outside the back of the van. Four? Maybe. My mind was racing. The moment I stepped out men started shouting. I turned right. In front of me a gang of guys in white were shouting wild things. I couldn’t make out anything specific, but I really didn’t want to. It seemed like a group of hardened prisoners. Fuck. Now I have to deal with them too, in addition to the guys in green.
I think I’m at the right spot. None of us have ever been here before. The guy that was supposed to drive cancelled three days ago. I volunteered because I get motion sickness in the back seat, but being the young guy I feel I have to take the worst seat. I like the power and control that driving gives me. But it also means when something goes wrong, it’s my fault. One of the two others in the car is telling me to follow the GPS. I’m trying to match the red circle on a screenshot to Google Maps. He tells me to turn right. I don’t. I block out everything he’s saying, trying to focus on what instinctually feels right. I keep driving and then find a parking lot with a dozen cars, and an old white school bus with paint over whatever label it used to have.