Camp Terror: Darkness

Darkness had engulfed the campsite, both metaphorically and physically. As the terrorists trekked further and further across the campsite, taking any able-bodied individuals who could fight while also rounding every other person and locking them inside the tennis courts with no hope of escape.

Tom and Jack were hard at work, attempting to break through the communications block that had been placed upon the river. “Have we tried the navy frequencies?” Jack asked.

            “About five times. We’ve tried every frequency I can think of…and every frequency you can think of. There is nothing else!” Tom moaned, kicking a bunch of leaves into the air. “How can everything be blocked…”

            “Have we tried our frequencies?” Jack enquired.

            “All of the ones that are actually being listened to,” Tom replied.

            “Why not the others?” Jack pushed.

            “Because the only people who know them are either dead or trapped underneath this black zone with us,” Tom explained.

            “Okay...”Jack stated as he ran his brain down every possible path.

            Suddenly in unison the two of them yelled, “Bobby!”

*****

Meanwhile in the basement of the manor house, Connor was tied to a horribly uncomfortable wooden chair, soaking wet and basically as miserable as the terrorists could make him. His face was bruised, his left hand fractured in multiple locations, his knee broken on the joint, and his feet? They had a couple of nails hammered into them after he was tied to the chair.

“Why don’t you just tell us who you’re working for and we’ll end your suffering,” stated one of three terrorists in the room.

            “Why would I give up the only information that is currently keeping me alive,” Connor smirked.

            “Who are you working for?” the second terrorist repeated.

            “I don’t know Carl. Your mum maybe…” Connor smiled weakly. “Actually no. It was defiantly Dom’s mum who sent me here. You ain’t getting anything out of me.”

            “How broken do you want to be?” Carl asked.

            “No more than you’ll be once we’re done with you,” Connor smirked. “Just give it time.”

            “He’s bluffing. There was no one else who could possibly have stood against us,” Dom explained.

            “Open your eyes!” Connor yelled. “You push people too far and they will backlash. You have signed your own death certificate.”

            “Who’s going to kill us?” the third terrorist snapped. “No one can stand up to what we have on our side.”

            “Apart from maybe the Vintos,” Dom noted, causing Connor to try and hide the smile that was attempting to form on his face.

            “Who are you working for!?” Carl bellowed as he brought a hammer down on Connor’s broken knee causing the boy to scream out in pain.

            “Keeping going,” Connor sneered as e fought back tears. “I will die before I tell you anything!”

            “Maybe we should attack his family,” Dom suggested. “That might convince him to talk.”

            Suddenly Connor felt a chill flow down his back. I’ve got to protect them, but I can’t keep lying or they get hurt…but if I tell the truth then they die. He thought to himself. Why Tom? Why have half the team work for NCIS? And why let me see that file which shows exactly who is going after these people’s friends. “NCIS,” he whimpered quietly.

            “What was that?” Carl asked, wanting clarification.

            “NCIS. That is who I work for,” Connor elaborated. “Now, leave my family alone.”

            “Ha…We’ll get who you really work for out of you in time,” Dom laughed as Carl and the third terrorist left to discuss NCIS’ involvement. “You can’t protect them forever.”

            “No,” Connor whispered almost silently. “But they can live forever…”