I've rated this part R just in case because the language and violence are a little bit stronger than they might usually be on the show. It's not extremely graphic or anything, but I just thought you should be forewarned.
Enjoy!
No Trespassing Part Four
Rated: R
“You should have let this thing go,” a voice echoed in MacGyver’s mind as he slowly regained consciousness.
He opened his eyes, still feeling groggy from the effects of the dart. Everything was blurry at first, and waves of dizziness hit him, causing everything to spin and disorient him. Gradually, things came back into focus and he saw Mark and Tom Howard standing over him. They were no longer in Jesse’s convenience store. Instead, there were in some remote part of the woods, a long gravel road that was filled with ruts from heavy rain erosion stretching out in front of them. It looked like an access road of some kind for the U.S. Forest Service, but it was poorly maintained, large, jagged rocks scattered all over it. It was beginning to blend back in with the landscape, which was rugged and filled with pines. He couldn’t hear any traffic sounds or see any buildings nearby. They were clearly far away from the outskirts of Pine Grove.
When he tried to move, he looked up and found that his wrists were tied to the bumper of a pickup truck. A gag of thick cloth was tied tightly around his mouth, preventing him from speaking. All he could do was stare at these men and wonder what they were going to do to him. If he could talk, he knew he would tell them that they were making a stupid mistake. Wasn’t the fire enough? Now, they were looking at kidnapping and assault? He couldn’t believe that they would have ever taken it that far, especially since they seemed so cautious about setting the fire in the first place. Maybe they were getting desperate, and MacGyver knew that desperate men often did stupid things because they weren’t thinking clearly. He wished he could convince them that they were taking it too far and would definitely be facing more serious charges unless they released him, but it was too late and he was silenced by the gag. He struggled against the ropes binding him to the truck’s bumper. They were thick and rough, already rubbing raw cuts into his wrists.
“I was all set to let you go,” Mark said, “but you wouldn’t quit. I’ve been watching you the past few days, MacGyver. You’ve been poking around too much for my liking, and you were too close to proving that Chuck is innocent. I’m afraid we can’t have that.”
“What are we going to do to him?” Tom asked.
Mark grinned. “Just what I told you,” he said. “MacGyver here is going to take a ride.”
Tom looked at MacGyver, who was still struggling, and then he looked back at Mark, his eyes wide. “We can’t do it, Mark!” He said. “We could kill him!”
“That’s the idea.”
“I don’t like this,” Tom said. “The fire was intense enough. Now you’re talking about kidnapping and murder?”
“It’s the only way.”
“But you’re out of your mind! I thought we were just going to scare him a little, you know…run him off, threaten him!”
Mark sneered. “That’s not going to work,” he said. “It’s gone too far. MacGyver won’t quit. Don’t you see? He was this close to having Jesse confess and turn us in to the cops!”
“We’ll be arrested now for sure if you do this,” Tom said. “It was hard enough covering up the fire and placing the blame on Chuck. How are we going to cover this up?”
Mark smiled. “You worry too much,” he said. “We’ll think of something. One step at a time.”
“I still don’t like it,” Tom said. “It’s too much! I can’t do this anymore!”
He began to back away when Mark pulled out his gun and pointed it at him. “If you run out now, I’ll make MacGyver’s death look like you murdered him and acted alone. I know you don’t want that kind of scandal ruining our family’s reputation.”
Tom stared at the gun.
“Come on, Tom, we can do this,” Mark said. “If we can cover up a fire, we can cover up a murder. We’ll still look clean, and Chuck will still go to jail if we follow this plan. We’ll be home free and rich once these condos are finished being built. No one has to know. What do you say?”
Tom looked at the gun, then at MacGyver, who looked at him with pleading eyes. Their intensity was too much to take, already making him feel his guilt. He turned away from him and back toward the gun.
“All right,” he said, “I’ll help you. I still don’t like it.”
Mark smirked. “Who says you have to like it?” He asked. “It’s necessary. Come on, get in the truck.”
Reluctantly, Tom followed Mark into the cab of the truck. MacGyver heard two loud slams and he shuddered, knowing his torment was about to begin.
***
The truck began to drag MacGyver, going slowly over the rough road at first but then gradually picking up speed. As the speed increased, so did the pain, sharp stones tearing and cutting through his clothes and into his skin. The lacerations formed up and down his legs and back, and he was helpless to stop them, tied to the bumper. He didn’t know how long the road was, but it felt like it went on forever as the truck continued to pick up speed, probably going over 100 miles an hour by this point according to MacGyver’s estimation. The scenery was nothing but a blur, and air rushed by him. The stones continued to cut viciously into his skin like small knives, and he could feel his blood trickling down his back. The pain was excruciating as he continued to be dragged at a high rate of speed. His cries in pain sounded like muffled whimpers and grunts against the gag, and he kept struggling, the ropes also cutting into his flesh. Not only did the stones cut into him—the road was bumpy and uneven, often sending his body flying through the air and abruptly crashing back down, slamming his already wounded back into more sharp stones. He released another muffled cry against the gag, certain that if his back wasn’t broken, it was at least severely bruised and damaged.
At the same time, the roughness of the road had managed to loosen an already dented bumper, revealing a jagged edge. Even through his pain MacGyver could hear it rattle, and he looked at it. The edge was close enough to his right wrist that he began using it to cut through his ropes. Wincing momentarily as more white hot pain raced through his body, he tried his best to concentrate, knowing that if he kept using the bumper to cut through his ropes, he could be free from the torture and agony soon. Minutes later, the ropes encircling his right wrist gave way, and MacGyver began working to untie his left wrist. He wanted to remove the gag, but he was afraid the constant pain assaulting him would cause him to release another involuntary yell, and even though they were driving at a high rate of speed on a noisy gravel road, MacGyver didn’t want to risk having Mark and Tom hear him.
Once the ropes around his left wrist were loose enough, MacGyver wriggled out of them, preparing to roll and clear himself of the truck. He looked around, not finding a smooth, even place to land. Rolling his eyes, not thrilled about his choices but knowing he had to do it, MacGyver pushed away from the bumper and rolled down a hill, landing on his left shoulder and twisting it. He could hear it snap, and he knew that he had either broken it or dislocated it. He released another muffled cry and held it, curling up into a more comfortable position although his many cuts still bled and stung with even the slightest movement. With a trembling hand he finally removed the gag and allowed himself to cry out freely, the truck having vanished around a sharp, hairpin turn in the road. He lay there, crumpled and in great pain, barely able to move and bleeding from every cut in his body. He was unsure what he was going to do next, but at least he was free from the truck and from further damage to his already broken body.
***
“What a ride!” Mark shouted after slowing down and stopping the truck. “Let’s see what kind of damage we’ve caused to MacGyver, huh?”
Tom looked at him uncertainly, feeling nauseated by what they were doing to the helpless man tied to their bumper.
“Tom, come on,” Mark said, opening his door and jumping to the ground.
Tom sighed and unbuckled his seat belt, opening his side and sliding off his seat, feeling too weak to fully stand. He fell to the ground in a heap and Mark ran around the front of the truck, quickly grabbing him by the arm, helping him stand.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” He asked, pulling Tom along. “Come on!”
Tom prepared himself for the gruesome scene, swallowing hard and inhaling deep breaths to combat his sickness. When they reached the bumper, he was relieved to find nothing. Mark looked at the dangling, empty ropes in stunned disbelief.
“Where…where did he go?” He asked, searching around the truck. “Damn it, where is he?”
“He’s gone, Mark,” Tom said, leaning against the closed tailgate of the truck for support. “Give it up. He’s probably already dead somewhere. It’s over.”
“Like hell it is,” Mark said, gritting his teeth and grabbing his gun from the dashboard of the truck. “Somehow he escaped, and he’s out there. We’re just going to have to find him.”
***
The hill MacGyver had rolled down was steep. He tried to begin climbing up it, but his whole body screamed in protest, causing him to slide limply back down the side of it, trembling from the effort it took to barely move an inch. He began to feel dazed, feverish, and weaker, dots of bright light dancing in front of his eyes as he fought to remain conscious. His breathing was shallow and ragged, and he huddled against the side of the hill, holding his injured shoulder protectively. Squinting through his pain, he looked back up the hill. He knew he had to get up it and get back to town somehow, but his bloodied, broken body wasn’t cooperating.
“Come on, Mac,” he said weakly through clenched teeth. “You can do this.”
With his right arm, he began again to pull himself up the side of the hill, but the pain became too intense again, causing him to groan and fall back down it, gasping.
“No,” he whispered. “Come on, think…”
He knew he was losing a lot of blood and going into shock, and he knew he would die out there if he couldn’t get back to town and get medical attention soon. He was about to try climbing the hill again when he heard footsteps crunching in the gravel above him. Looking up, he saw Mark and Tom Howard searching the area for him. Mark had his gun, and he looked determined to find him. MacGyver winced and huddled against the side of the hill again, shivering and holding his shoulder. He bit his lip to prevent any moans from escaping his lips and fought another bout of dizziness, feeling ready to pass out from the pain and nausea.
“He’s got to be around here somewhere,” he heard Mark say, his voice sounding slowed down, like a radio with dying batteries.
“Freeze!” Another voice shouted suddenly, rousing MacGyver from his stupor briefly. He looked up again and saw the sheriff of Pine Grove along with several backup officers and Jesse from the convenience store standing behind the two men, aiming their guns at them. “You’re under arrest! Drop your weapon!”
Mark dropped his gun, and the officers rushed over to him and his brother, handcuffing them.
“Where is Chuck’s friend?” The sheriff asked. “What have you done with him?”
Mark scoffed. “I don’t have to tell you anything until my attorney is present,” he said.
“I saw them take the man and place him in the back of their truck,” Jesse said.
“I’ll ask you again—where is he?” The sheriff asked, anger rising in his voice.
“Here,” MacGyver said weakly. “I’m down here…” he collapsed against the side of the hill, unconscious, never knowing if the sheriff heard him or not, oblivious to the world.
To be continued…
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer."
--Henry David Thoreau
brains+brawn+beauty+personality=MacGyver
