Fast Food

Jane stared at the glass window. The light from the inside of the restaurant met the darkness outside, turning the window into a mirror. The 20-year-old girl stared at her reflection. Wisps of dark brown hair fell over her dark blue eyes. Her small nose and cheeks were sprinkled liberally with light brown freckles. The thin lips of her mouth were turned down in a frown.

She glanced at her watch. The hands read 9:32. She sighed. Her shift wasn't over until 10:00, when she'd go back to the dorm and crash on her bed. She didn't know what she'd been thinking when she'd spotted the "Help Wanted" sing outside "Bob's Burger House." She'd only gotten this job because her parents had refused to keep giving her money to live off of at college unless she got some kind of job.

"Hey! Quit starin' out the window! I ain't paying you to sit around!" Bob shouted from back in the kitchen. "Why don't you get a mop and clean up, if there aint no customers!"

Grumbling to herself, Jane stood up from the booth where she was sitting and walked over to the broom closet. To top the list of reasons she hated her job, the restaurant was a dump. Half a dozen booths were crammed into the small area in front of the kitchen.

In the parking lot, the concrete cracked and chipped, the lines rubbed invisible, Bob had put up a dozen or so boards with the menu and a cobbled together intercom for those customers who wouldn't step foot in the building to order. Jane couldn't blame them.   

Jane and the girl that had the shift before her just managed to keep most of the tables and booths clean enough what few customers actually came in would be willing to sit at them, and even then, that was all relative. The less said about the bathrooms the better.

Jane plied the mop around halfheartedly. She doubted she was doing anything more than spreading the dirt and grime, but it was enough to keep her boss of her back while she earned her minimum wage.

"Come on. Pick up the pace, you slacker!" Bob shouted from the kitchen, not even looking up at her. Jane grumbled some more and worked the mop a little harder, at least until she was sure her boss wasn't looking anymore before dropping back to her normal pace.  

It wasn't as if he was doing anything. He spent most of the evening every night sitting behind the grill reading his dog eared "artistic" magazines, waiting for a customer to show up, though none ever did. Jane had no idea how many people wanted a burger at ten o'clock at night, but she bet they went somewhere other than a dump like "Bob's Burger House."

As if solely to prove her wrong, a van pulled up to one of the drive-in spaces outside. Jane waited a few moments for someone to get out, but no one did. She sighed. She could understand why someone would want to eat in their car rather then come inside, but it made her job all that harder.

In the kitchen, a light flashed next to a microphone, signaling that whoever was out there was ready to order. Bob walked over and flipped on the cheap intercom system.

"What can I get you tonight?" Bob said, speaking into the microphone. A muffled buzz came out as the car ordered. Jane waited a few minutes as Bob whipped up their order, a pair of greasy burgers and two boxes of fries that looked like they could clog your arteries just by looking at them. The smell made jane's stomach a little queasy.  

Jane glanced at her watch. 9:51. Great. Now she couldn't leave until she'd served whoever that was. Bob handed Jane a grease soaked paper bag with the order. Sighing again, Jane opened the door and walked outside.

Almost immediately, a gust of cold wind blew over her. She cursed softly under her breath. After the grime, the thing Jane hated most about this place was the uniform all the waitress had to wear. It looked like something that had gone out of style in the fifties, with a pink skirt, tall socks and sneakers.   

Outside, it was practically pitch-black. The dull neon sign over the door did little to illuminate anything and Bob was too cheap to have any other lights installed. To make matters worse, the customers, whoever they were, had parked at the furthest space from what little light the sign did provide.

"Bastards." Jane thought to herself, as another gust of wind blew up her skirt. She ran over to the van, one hand holding the bag, the other holding down her skirt in case of more wind. Best to just get them served and get this over with as soon as possible.

Jane waited, shivering as the driver rolled down his window. Suddenly, Jane yelped in surprise. "Quiet!" The man inside ordered, pointing the small pistol he held at her. A black ski mask covered his face. "Don't say anything or your dead. Got it?"

Jane nodded her head furiously. The man opened the door and got out, all the while keeping the pistol pointed at Jane. "Get in!" He ordered.

'You've got to be kidding me!" Jane said, shaking her head in disbelief. She almost couldn't believe what was happening. "I'm not getting in there!"  

"Would you rather be dead? I'm not joking around." The man growled. "Get in, NOW!"

"Alright! Alright!" Jane said, cowed by fear. "I'm going!" The man kept her covered as she got into the van. Inside, there was another man, dressed like the first, with a black ski mask. "Alright!" he said, taking the bag of food out of Jane's unresisting hand. "Dinner!" he glanced at Jane. "I hope you won't be disappointed if we don't tip." He chuckled to himself.

"You did all this for free food?" Jane said, incredulously.

"Not just food." The second burglar said, setting the bag aside. "Turn around and cross your hands behind your back." He ordered, holding up a length of rope, giving Jane no illusions about what he was going to do.

"I hope you both get food poisoning." Jane grumbled as she turned and presented her hands for tying. Her captor chuckled as he quickly bound Jane's wrists with the rope. She winced as he cinched the knot tight, the rope cutting into her wrists.

"OW!" Jane yelped. "You're hurting me!"

'You're going to get worse if you don't stay quiet." The first man said, keeping her covered with the pistol. Jane shivered with fright. What did they want with her? Fearfully, Jane wondered if Bob would notice she'd been out here so long. Not likely, he'd just assume she'd left work early. No one would notice she was gone until the morning, when her roommate might notice she was missing.  

The second man finished tying Jane's wrists and  spun her around to tie her ankles next, knotting the ropes just as tight as before. He held up a wad of cloth. "Open wide." He commanded.

'No way. You're not gagging me with tha-AAAMMMPPPHHH!" Jane's protests turned to a long groan as the man stuffed the ball of cloth into her open mouth.
"HGMMPPH!" Jane grunted angrily into her makeshift gag as the man pulled out a roll of tape and tore off a strip. She tried to spit out the none-too-clean cloth, but it was wedged in good. With her hands tied, she had no chance of shifting the wad.

Jane's captor pinched Jane's mouth shut over the packing, and pressed the tape down smoothly over her lips. He added several more strips to ensure that Jane wouldn't be doing any talking in the near future.

Jane groaned into her gag, in equal measures fear and anger. Her abductor picked up a large cloth sack. "Nighty night…" He said, before pulling the open sack over Jane's head. He pulled the sack down, then cinched it tight over her neck.

Jane moaned in fear as the sack went over her and everything went dark. To her relief, she found she could breathe through the sack, easily enough, though it smelled of something foul. But she couldn't see anything through it.

"Hang on, we're going for a little trip…" Jane's kidnapper said, forcing her to lie down on the floor of the van. He quickly bound Jane's ankles and wrists together with some more rope, leaving the helpless woman hogtied.

A second later, the car started and began to drive away. Jane moaned into her gag in fear, wondering where they were taking her and why…