Page 64 of Vanishing Point
Cash nodded. “Then let’s head out.”
VI HAD FIGUREDthat at some point Dianne and Eric would sleep and she’d be able to work on using her pathetic tools for some kind of escape chance. She was tied up. Wouldn’t they think that was good enough?
Apparently not, because Dianne never left the main room. Even as the cabin had gotten pitch-black as night fell, Vi would occasionally hear Dianne do something in the kitchen, or she’d see a flash of light that was Dianne’s phone screen.
Vi had used the dark time not to sleep herself—if she even could have in this uncomfortable sitting position. But she’d considered her nail, her shards of chair. She couldn’t hold the nail in any way to break her bonds, but if she could somehow get the nail into the floor, sharp point upward, she could use her bodyweight to push plastic against sharp point.
She’d figured out it would take more than one puncture to get herself free of the zip tie, so it would take time. But it was possible. If she could manage to get the nail upright and sturdy.
By the time daylight started illuminating the cabin, Vi had an idea. But it’d have to wait until Dianne wasn’t quite so close.
The woman in question was hard at work in the kitchen, clearly trying to put together some kind of breakfast feast for Eric.
Vi almost pointed out the futility. She was sure he would find something wrong with it, and if Dianne wanted to listen, she could predict, with dizzying accuracy, just what he’d say was wrong.
Rubbery eggs. Cold toast. Slimy bacon. It didn’t matter if any of those things were true. It wasn’t abouttruth. It was about power. It had taken Vi too long, and a lot of space away from Eric, to be able to learn that.
But since shehadlearned it, she went ahead and told Dianne exactly that. Why not? Dianne would have to find the bullets to do anything about it.
Besides, maybe just maybe, one of these times, she could get through to Dianne. Poke enough holes in her theory ofloveand show Dianne how wrong she was. How wrong thisallwas.
“He’ll eat his fill, then throw the plate at the wall and tell you all the ways it’s trash. Because it doesn’t matter if you can cook or not, Dianne. It doesn’t matter how hard you slaved away at it. He just wants to make you feel bad.”
Dianne pretended not to hear, and marched off down the hallway, plate heaped with food in her hands.
Vi figured she hadmaybefive minutes of being alone. So she got to work. Carefully, meticulously, she balanced the nail on its head next to her on the ground.
Then, she scooted onto her knees. She took the skinniest shard of chair and carefully positioned it over the sharp point of the nail, with the nail in the center. Since the wood wasn’t sturdy, it only took pushing down with her bodyweight for the nail to pierce the wood.
It wasn’t as stable as she would have liked, the wood splintering a bit on impact, but it was something. If she could stabilize the wood with her knees, she now had a somewhat unmovable sharp point that would allow her to do the same thing with her zip tie that she’d just done with the splinter.
Push the zip tie against the sharp point, using her bodyweight as some kind of lever to pierce. Through the plastic. She just needed to find the right way to arrange her body so that she didn’t actually impale her handswiththe nail.
Luckily, it wasn’t a long nail, so whatever damage she ended up doing to herself would likely be minimal. What was some tetanus if she managed to get freedom?
She nudged the wood under her knees, managed to get them close enough together that her own bodyweight held the wood, and thus the nail, still.
She gave one furtive look down the hall. No sound yet. No yelling. She still had time. She placed part of the plastic zip tie on top of the sharp nail, then used her bodyweight to push down.
For a moment, nothing happened, then she fell forward. She looked at the plastic and nearly laughed out loud.
It worked. Itworked.
It didn’t actually get her hands unbound yet, but there was now a tiny hole in the plastic. With enough tiny holes, the plastic would break. And her hands would be free and…
She eyed the gun on the kitchen corner. Well, she’d have to get over there with her feet still tied. She’d have to find bullets.
But it was something. Chances. Opportunities. If she was smart. If she was careful. Everything could…
There was no yelling. No crash. But Vi heard footsteps getting closer so she quickly moved back onto her butt, and hid the nail and chair shard under her legs.
Dianne returned with an empty plate and a smirk. Like she’d won some contest.
Woo-hoo, he didn’t hit you this time. Congratulations.
Eric appeared just a few seconds later. His hair was wet, like maybe he’d showered. He was wearing new clothes. He was whistling as he came out of the hallway, but he stopped short when he saw Dianne put the plate in the sink.
Then move away.
