Page 105 of Deathmarch
She brushed her fingertips over the lid next to her butt.Maybe…She tested the edge with her thumb. But no—not sharp at all.
“Dagnabbit.”
For the next minute or two, she just sat there and focused on not crying, not getting discouraged. Everything inside her screamed that she was done. She’d been kidnapped. She was tied up. She was locked up. She was about to pee her pants… Which really wasn’t even that big a deal compared to the fact that she was probably about to be murdered.
Then she remembered that stupid, hokey sign and her conversation with Shannon. LIVE YOUR BEST HOPE INSTEAD OF YOUR WORST FEAR.
That was the trick, wasn’t it? She had only so much time and energy left. She wasn’t going to spend them on thinking about being killed, on being scared and feeling defeated. She needed different images in her mind. Escape. Freedom. Success.
And it went for her life as well if she got out of here… No,whenshe got out of here. She was going to have a serious conversation with Harper. She was going to give hope a chance.
Deep breath.
Screw giving up.
She pictured Calamity Jane on her left and Annie Oakley on her right. If she needed something sharp, she would make something sharp. She thought about it, then dragged the paint-can lid against the rough metal of the rack behind her.
The awkward motion sent pain shooting through her shoulders. She didn’t care. She put all her strength into sharpening the metal lid, gritting her teeth as hard as if she was trying to bite through the barrel of a six-shooter.
After what felt like an eternity, dropping the damn lid at least half a dozen times, she tested the edge again.Better.She smiled into the near darkness.
When she had what amounted to a decent blade, she used it to saw through the plastic coating on the wire leash that held her. Then she tried to saw through the wire, but that didn’t work. So she twisted her wrists until she got hold of that wire, and she bent it back and forth, back and forth, until the copper fatigued and the damn wire broke at last.
Thank God, thank God, thank God.
Sweat dampened her skin. She was breathing hard, but she was free.
The first thing she did was pee in the damn paint can. She couldn’t run with her bladder bursting. When she finished, she tucked the can into the corner and inched toward the truck’s back door, carrying her makeshift blade.
She wedged her fingers into the inch-wide gap under the door and tried to yank it up, but it didn’t go past another inch, caught on something.
She reached out and felt around blindly for what held the door shut on the outside. More plastic-covered wire.
No.She felt more carefully.Something thicker. Felt like one of those bicycle locks.
Not something a sharpened paint-can lid could saw through. This was as far as she was going to get.
“Let me out!” She banged on the door in a rush of panic. “Let me out, please!”
She screamed for a good minute before she heard the door to the house open again, and then she realized how insanely stupid the screaming had been, drawing attention to the fact that she’d broken loose, so she scuttled back to the rack and shoved her hands behind herself.
The truck’s back door rolled up with a bang. “What the hell!”
The light blinded her. She almost raised her hands to shield her eyes, but caught herself at the last second. “I’m sorry. I can’t stop. I’m sorry. I think I’m having a panic attack. I can’t breathe!”
She didn’t have to pretend hyperventilating. She was damn close to the edge.
“Please,” she begged. “Could you just leave the truck open? I won’t try anything. I can’t. Just please let me breathe. I’m about to have a heart attack. If I die, you’ll never see any money.”
She cried, letting go in huge heaving sobs. Didn’t have to pretend much there either.
“Why did you take your shoe and your brace off?” he yelled at her.
“Too tight. It hurt. I think my ankle is swelling up again. I was in an accident a few days ago. I couldn’t run if I wanted to. Please.”
“Fucking bitches.” He spat. “Always more trouble than you’re worth.” But he only pulled the rolling door down halfway before he walked away.
She could hear him clomping up the handful of steps, then the door to the house slammed shut behind him.
