As soon as he got out of the car, Martin felt uneasy. There weren’t any doubts about what had just happened; he was guilty and accessory to the kidnapping.
At first, nothing was prepared, it was a Sunday morning like other Sundays, he went out with some friends to have a drink and while they were in a terrace something strange could be smelled in the atmosphere. A friend of him was walking alone over the bridge beyond the park where they were sitting and suddenly, Mark shouted something aloud and they started to run. Martin followed them because he didn’t know what to do at that moment, they were following the footprints of Martin’s friend but not in a good way, you know, as if they were looking for some clues.
Martin was in shock and very tired, they were running without saying anything for almost an hour and when they finally got to a field in the middle of the path, he saw the opportunity to ask Mark what was happening with his friend. There was no audible answer and in a few moments Martin saw himself running again with no minimal idea about where they were going.
By now, his friend Peter was sitting alone in a type of threshold of an old house which seemed to be abandoned and they were hidden by some bushes and trees waiting for something. Although they were in silence Martin had realised that something would occur and not precisely a good thing.
Eventually Mark caught a gun with a quick movement and pointed at Peter, Martin shouted, but the rest of the people who were also with them, covered Martin’s mouth with their hands. Peter was kidnapped by all of them for no apparent reason. Nobody said anything until they got to Mark’s house, when they arrived Martin saw in his friend’s eyes a kind of terror but he went straight away to his own house since he couldn’t understand what was really happening.