Page 12 of Red Captive

I note that the tarp on the crate I am leaning against hasn’t been properly tied at one end. There’s a flappy opening on one corner. I go over there, intent on fixing it, when I decide to stick my head inside. Inside each crate are boxes. This particular crate isn’t full all the way to the top. There’s a gap at the top on one side. A gap big enough for a lean human woman to fit inside if she were to bend her knees a little. It’s tight but very doable.

These crates are being loaded onto an aircraft destined for the Mainland. The Mainland, for goodness’ sake. An idea forms in my mind. I instantly shut it down.

No! I can’t! They’ll catch me; I know they will. I’ll be in big trouble when I’m caught.

Then again, I haven’t heard from those two assholes since I first arrived here. For all I know, they’ve changed their minds about giving me the money.

I don’t want it.

I don’t want to stay here.

I look longingly into the crate. What if an escape worked? It could work. There’s a chance I could get off of this island. That I could go home. I heave out a heavy breath. I’m pretty sure I’m worth more to them alive. Worth more to be used as a pawn rather than tossed away to the feral dragons. Like I told them, I’d rather die than live with the knowledge that my family is in trouble. That my little brother was in foster care, and my mom was sick or even dead.

No!

If they won’t speak to me, tell me what the hell is going on, then I’m getting out of here. I’m running.

I need to try. I’ve been sitting on my hands, waiting for an opportunity to present itself, and here it is. At long last. This is it. The moment I’ve been waiting for, and I have to take it. I owe it to myself. To my family. My mom and Caleb will be worried about me.

I look over at the shifters loading the truck. Rex glances my way as I lean against the crate. I pretend to be relaxed. I even force a yawn, holding my hand over my mouth.

“I’m going to go for a walk,” I shout at Rex, pointing across the courtyard.

He frowns and pulls in a breath. I know what he’s about to say.

“Don’t worry; I’ll stay where you can see me.” I roll my eyes and laugh. Rex has been watching me for two months. He knowsme and trusts me, even though he follows the rules. I feel bad doing this, but it can’t be helped.

He smiles at me and nods, picking up another crate together with one of the other guys. The courtyard has more than one door along the back. I assume they lead to the gardens. There’s a passageway at the end that leads to another part of the castle and then a door that leads back to the kitchens. I walk to the end, turning just before I reach the passageway. I pretend to march up and down the courtyard. It’s a big area. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Rex looking my way once or twice. For the most part, he keeps on working, too distracted to pay me much attention. It won’t be long before they reach the crate that I plan on using for my escape. I need to time this right. Too soon, and I will be caught; too late, and I will miss my chance.

Please let this work!

I keep walking, noting that Rex is paying less and less attention to me. He’s concentrating more and more on getting the crates into the back of the truck. They’re big and strong, but it’s hard work in this terrible humidity.

“If we don’t leave in four minutes, we won’t make it to the airstrip in time to load the aircraft,” the truck driver says, looking at his watch. He’s frowning heavily, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

“Let’s leave the rest,” another one says.

No, they can’t! My plan will fail.

“How do we explain that?” his co-worker asks.

“We’re nearly done,” Rex insists. “Let’s finish it. We still have time if we hurry.”

“Yeah, let’s hustle,” one of the others says.

So, they work harder, their full concentration on getting the job finished.

This is my chance. I take it. Swallowing thickly, I walk around the crate. Then I glance at the guys. They’re loading aparticularly heavy crate. All three of them are busy. It’s like the universe is conspiring to help me. I’ve got this.

I jump up onto the crate, keeping half an eye on the guys. Then I hoist myself up, quickly wriggling my way through the tiny opening. Good thing I watch my diet, or I wouldn’t have fit. Once inside, I grip the edge of the tarp, pulling it down. It’s tight and a little claustrophobic, but I can do it. I have to.

For my family.

For my mom.

For Caleb.

We’ll make it. I know we will. If I asked them if they would prefer a bank full of cash over having me back, I know they’d choose me every day of the week. The times ahead will be tough, but we’ll tackle them together. I’ll work five jobs if I have to. I can’t trust the general or the lieutenant. I wish I could. I’d probably stay for the money if that were the case, but it isn’t. A big part of me heaves a sigh of relief at not having to marry a stranger. Of being in a loveless marriage. I may have dodged a bullet. First, this plan has to work.

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