An idle wind lazily rolled throughout the lonely valley, churning small swirls of dust in its wake. The merciless sun beat down on the desolate landscape, only amplifying the hostile environment left behind in the fallout of the broken world. Lush fields of grass and rows of towering trees were nothing but a distant memory for this place. It had once been graced with near daily rainfall, now it was rare to see anything more than wisps of clouds in the sky.
Two lonely figures ambled along the worn path of previous travelers, one a few yards ahead of the other. The absence of life in the valley meant that their footsteps echoed throughout the nearby land, only amplifying the solitude of such a place. The world itself had been consumed with an ungodly heat and formidable dryness, save for a few precious oasis's, and this was not one of them.
Of the two figures, the first was a man dressed in ragged attire. The soles of his shoes were worn to the point where precious centimeters of rubber protected his skin from the scorched earth beneath him. His shirt and pants were riddled with tears and holes, though they hardly mattered in such weather. The man himself bore signs of malnourishment, though it was not much more than a minor case. He had certainly seen better days, but he still carried a weathered handsomeness beneath the scraggly beginnings of a beard and downcast eyes. The most notable feature of his attire, however, was the chains that adorned him. His hands were kept together tightly behind his back by a pair of worn metal cuffs, his ankles were connected by a chain, and a rope was tied around his neck, which led back to the figure behind him.
The second person stood in contrast to the prisoner. She was well kempt and held a determined gaze as she kept pace behind her prisoner. Her boots were worn but well-maintained and showed signs of regular repair. She wore a pair of thick daisy dukes, which were more practical than the pre-disaster style, likely chosen due to the constant heat she endured. She also sported a plain white tank top, which sported a fair bit of sweat and dirt, but remained without any major wear and tear. Her hair, which had once fallen all the way to the small of her back, was cut short at her shoulders, the blonde tresses tied back in a ponytail for convenience's sake. Unlike her prisoner, she seemed to be in great health, considering the state of the world, and her piercing blue eyes carried a sort of confidence that her prisoner simply couldn't sport.
With the free-for-all state of the world, barbaric institutions once again reigned over the world. Slavery was perhaps the most prominent, and that's exactly where the tale begins. She had obtained her prisoner in a coordinated effort against a local gang of thugs. A few of her fellow slavers had combined their efforts to simultaneously help the local town and to obtain new wares. While her comrades had headed south, to take the easier and more traveled path towards the military state of New Springfield, she had decided to take harder route towards the commerce haven that had developed in the ruins of what was once Chicago. While the city had been ravaged by looting and had fallen into disrepair, it was now run by a group of merchants who had taken to fixing up parts of the city, using Lake Michigan as a way to transport their wares easily.
"Get your ass in gear Jake. We still got a few days more before I put you to market and I'm already getting sick of you," she barked before yanking on his leash harshly as a warning. The last leg of the journey was always the worst for Olivia and this particular case was no exception. Her paranoia always seemed to reach new highs whenever she neared the end of her journey, though her fear was not generally rational or specific.
Nonetheless, as the orange sun set and painted its rays along the deserted, picturesque landscape, she decided that there would need to be extra security tonight. Perhaps the proximity of his fate would motivate some sort of last-ditch effort from Jake to escape and overtake his captor.
As they continued to trudge along, she spotted an old abandoned motel, mounds of dust forming small dunes along its unkempt parking lot. It presented a perfect place to crash for the night, as well as offering extra security she could implement for Jake.
Upon reaching the premise, she undid one of his cuffs, with her trusty pistol pressed into the small of his back, before forcing him to squat next to the sign outside the hotel. Then, she looped the chain around the pole and reattached the cuff, leaving him tied to the sign. Olivia gave him a withering glare and remarked "If I see you doing anything I find even vaguely funny, I'll bust a rib or two. It won't affect your value anyhow," she remarked before holstering her gun and walking towards the actual building itself. Jake responded with nothing but silence, resigned to his fate and unwilling to anger his captor further.
Olivia scouted out the location, looking for the perfect place to crash for the night. She was pleased to find that the rooms were made in sets of two, and that there existed doors between each pair. This meant she could sleep with a door separating her from her prisoner, while still being close enough to overhear any sort of loud escape attempt.
Deciding which room she would take, having already fetched keys from the main building, she opened the other room and began searching thoroughly, removing anything she could find that may be used to aid Jake's escape. After a thorough check of everything insight, she was satisfied and went back outside. She fetched Jake, undoing his cuffs as carefully as she had attached them, and led him to his room.
"Sit down on the bed," she gestured with her pistol drawn. Jake complied wordlessly. She tossed him the keys and remarked "Undo the cuffs." Jake was a little confused and shocked by this, but he complied, freeing his wrists and ankles, rubbing the red imprints of steel that had marred his tanned skin. "Hands on your head and face the wall," she ordered casually. Jake complied once more; slightly afraid he might receive a bullet in the back for no reason, though it made no sense for Olivia to do so. Once he had obeyed, she attached one end of the cuffs that were on his ankles to a knob on a safe that was implanted in the wall, meaning that Jake would have to tear the safe out of the wall in order to walk free from the radius of the chain. She then ordered "Walk over here, slowly." Jake did so, of a few steps, before he was ordered to stop, and she tossed him the other end of the cuffs. "On one of your ankles," she casually commented, watching closely to make sure it was tight.
Once that was complete, she walked towards the exit, pistol still drawn and casually explained "Well that should do ye for the night. You should be able to reach the bathroom and one end of the bed with that, but not the door. Don't say I don't ever treat ya kind," she added with a laugh before leaving to retire to her room.
By this time the sun had set and the cool evening air had settled on the lonesome motel. The pale sliver of moonlight was the only thing that illuminated the place, a slight glint of light the only illumination in Jake's room. Tonight was his last opportunity for escape, and likely his best of the journey. Olivia had traded proximity for a good night's sleep, which meant Jake had free reign to find a way out of his ordeal.
His meekness was not reflective of his spirit. While he was beaten and downtrodden, he was not cowed enough to avoid seizing an opportunity. Like a rat desperately jumping from a sinking ship, he now searched for his last hope of escape. All the usual places in the room had been checked and cleared by Olivia. She was nothing if not thorough, although most in her profession who weren't ended up dead. However, his freedom was on the line, and his desperation meant that he would leave no stone unturned.
Jake first checked underneath the sofa and bed, as well as searching every possible cranny of each. With that yielding nothing, he then looked searched the nightstand for anything useful. He was shocked to find the complimentary pamphlet with the security code to the safe. Olivia had never set her own passcode, and as a result he would now be able to walk freely. He took care of this immediately, draping the chain around his neck as to avoid waking Olivia.
Jake's first instinct was to run. He walked over to the door that led outside and was frustrated to find it thoroughly barricaded. Olivia was cautious, even for a slaver. Jake knew that his only course left was to overpower or kill his captor. Despite his freedom, she was still armed, and that scared him. He would have to do better than a blind charge when she opened his door in the morning.
Jake continued to search the room, now able to check places that had been out of reach before. Reaching the cabinets that had once likely held a TV atop them; he looked inside the drawers for anything of note. Once again, fortune seemed to favor him with the discovery of keys that would unlock the door between the two rooms. However, it would only open the door on his side. He would have to hope she had been absent-minded enough to leave her side open, or he would have to find another way to open it.
Carefully, and slowly he unlocked the door, pulling it back inch by inch, to avoid any loud squeaks that would give away his freedom. He was once again amazed at his recent luck when he found that her side was open. He now had a way to get to her in her sleep. However, Jake dared not try and sneak up on her. He knew she slept with the pistol by her side and a rifle within reach as well. She was a light sleeper, as he had noted in the nights they had camped outdoors, and he was unwilling to gamble on his own ability to reach her gun without alerting her.
Jake returned to his bed and renewed his search for something to help his odds. He checked the safe he had opened earlier; in too much of a haste to free himself to properly check the receptacle. Inside, he found, to his immense surprise, a small handgun, a pack of cigarettes and what appeared to be a suicide note. Jake was far too absorbed in his own well-being to care about the story that had transpired here. Instead he picked up the gun with glee, ejecting the magazine to check for bullets.
