Beside Still Waters (Psalm 23 Mysteries) Page 14

  By a miracle she had landed with her fingers within reach of a particularly long and jagged shard of mirror. She grasped it between her thumb and forefinger and was able to twist it around to bring it against the ropes around her wrist. She began to saw back and forth flexing her wrist as much as she could and manipulating the shard with the two fingers.

  Back and forth she sawed as time seemed to stand still. She could smell the blood in her mouth and the glass embedded in her legs burned like fire, but none of it was anything compared to the pain that flooded her shoulder. It was throbbing now and it was becoming harder and harder to control and manipulate the shard of mirror.

  Her arm was probably broken, she realized, struggling not to let the pain overcome her completely. The first strand of the rope began to fray beneath the constant sawing motion. If only she could make bigger sweeps or apply more pressure it would go faster, but she would do what she could, praying it would be enough in the end.

  A sudden slamming sound somewhere else in the house caused her to freeze for a moment in terror. She stared toward the door, expecting it to fly open at any minute and Mr. Black or one of his associates to come in and catch her.

  Move faster, a voice seemed to whisper inside her head. It made sense. If someone was in the house she needed to do everything she could to free herself before they came back to check on her.

  She sawed away frantically and she began to feel the rope give. She strained, trying to break it, even as she kept sawing away. Finally the strand she was working on gave way with a snap. She wiggled her wrist, pulling at the rope, and she felt it slacking.

  She twisted her wrist back and forth until it was coated in blood. The lubricant helped her and she finally managed to pull her wrist free of the restraints. With a gasp she picked the shard back up and moved it over to her other hand. It felt so amazing to be able to move even that much, but the stabbing pain in her arm reminded her of her injury.

  She sawed away at a strand of the robe binding her left hand and because she had more motion and pressure she could bring to it the rope began to give away much faster. The rope finally snapped and she was able to yank that hand free as well. She twisted on the floor so that she could reach the ropes binding her legs. She felt the knot and realized after a moment that she wouldn’t be able to untie it.

  The shard again went to work, this time in her left hand as she kept her right arm as still as she could. Because her feet were completely numb she had to saw through three strands before she was able to move them. Agony shot through her as she pulled them free and blood began to rush into them. She shook them hard, hoping that when she stood they would take her weight.

  She wished she could take the time to pluck the slivers from her legs, but every second lost was a second closer to being discovered. She managed to turn over onto her stomach and she got her arms and legs under her and heaved up.

  She collapsed almost instantly and she pounded the floor with her fist in rage and frustration. She reached out and grabbed the corner of the wall where it formed the closet and used it to help haul herself to her feet. She stamped her feet a couple of times as they came tingling back to life, praying that she would be able to walk.

  Finally she let go of the wall. She tottered for a moment on legs that felt like jelly. She wasn’t sure what was a result of the prolonged immobilization and what was a result of the lack of food, water and sleep. She took a step forward, knee nearly giving way beneath her. She grabbed the doorknob, though, and steadied herself. Then she eased the door open, holding her breath as she peered down the hallway.

  A sudden high-pitched sound split the air around her, drowning out the television easily. It seemed to be coming from just outside the window in the room. She froze. Had she set off some kind of alarm system?

  It blared loud and sharp, making her ears ache. And then, finally, it ended. She blinked, not sure what it was or what had caused it. Was it possible it was some sort of air raid siren, a natural disaster alert? She’d heard they used such a system in the islands.

  If there was some sort of disaster, though, she didn’t have time to worry about what it could be.

  The hallway was empty. She could see a door on the left, a door at the far end which seemed to lead to another bedroom, a door on the right which she suspected was also a bedroom, and past that a hallway also heading off to the right.

  She opened the door wide and stepped out into the hall, her hands on the walls to help balance herself. She debated closing the door. If Mr. Black saw it he would instantly know something was wrong, but if one of his associates was guarding her, he might not realize it was supposed to be open and it might buy her some more time.

  After a moment’s hesitation she shut the door most of the way so that noise from the television was still coming through clearly but anyone glancing casually that way wouldn’t see the chair or the broken glass.

  She walked down the hallway, pausing to peek around the corner of the bedroom on the right and a bathroom on the left. They were both empty. The bathroom didn’t even have toilet paper in it. At the hallway she turned and kept going. A few feet and then the hallway let out into a great room meant to be kitchen, dining room and living room combined. Sliding glass doors were on the left, another hallway straight ahead. And to the right, next to the kitchen, was a front door with beveled glass.

  She made her way toward it, her legs a little stronger. On the kitchen counter she saw several bottles of water. With a shaking hand she grabbed one and slid it into the pocket of her skirt. She wanted the others, wanted to stand there and drink her fill, but she had to keep going while she could. She thought about the thudding sound she had heard earlier. Maybe it had been someone leaving the house instead of entering.

  Or maybe they were just in one of the other rooms she hadn’t explored yet.

  She reached the front door and twisted it open. It wasn’t even locked. Mr. Black really wasn’t worried about being disturbed there.

  She opened it and stepped cautiously out onto a lanai. To the left was a door back into the other part of the house. To the right were the stairs that headed down to the ground and the open air carport underneath the house.

  She lurched toward the stairs, grasping the banisters firmly in each hand. The pain in her right arm was becoming overwhelming and as she made it down the first two steps she was terrified that she was going to pass out.

  There was a landing a little ways down and then the stairs twisted downward again.

  You can make it, get to the landing, she ordered herself. Each downward step felt like it jolted every bone in her body, like it was rattling them together. She could hear her breath coming as uneven gasps. The water bottle in her pocket banged against her leg, tempting her even while it weighed her down.

  She made it to the landing, and turned slowly, and faced the last set of stairs. The carport was empty and so was what little she could see of the gravel driveway from where she was.

  Hurry, Cindy, hurry and you’re free, she told herself.

  She pushed through the pain, taking each step as it came, until it seemed like all her life she had been climbing stairs and nothing else. When at last she reached the bottom she stood for a moment, afraid that if she let go of the railings she would fall.

  But sooner or later she had to risk it. Sooner could save her life. She let go, tottering for a moment. She took a step forward, and then another, aiming for a line of trees just a few steps away. She made it and pushed through them. They were thick and close together, but she could still make her way through without too much effort.

  A flash of yellow among the green caught her eye and she turned her head to see that she was nearly eye-level with a whole bunch of apple bananas. They were small, nearly ripe, and right there in front of her. A cluster of banana trees. That’s what she was standing in.

  She reached out and grabbed a banana and yanked it free. It was harder than she had anticipated and the effort almost knocked her over. But the fruit cam
e free and she stuffed it and then a second one into her other pocket. Sticky sap coated her hands and she wiped it on her dress. She had already ruined Geanie’s clothes anyway.

  She pushed on farther, trying to get as much distance between herself and the house as she could. She wasn’t thinking straight. She knew she should have headed toward the road where she could find another house, or a driver, and try to get help.

  Of course, she might have run straight into Mr. Black that way. After it felt like she’d been walking for quite a while she stopped. She stood for a moment before her legs gave way and she landed on the ground, shaking and in pain. Her vision seemed to her to be fading, colors were losing their intensity, and her peripheral vision was gone.

  I’m going to pass out, she realized.

  And that’s when she finally remembered the bottle of water. She reached into her pocket and pulled it out. She wrapped her left hand around the cap and tried to twist it off. Her entire body was shaking with the effort and she realized she didn’t have the strength to open it.

  “God, please, help me,” she thought as she closed her eyes. She wrapped the skirt around the cap, reached deep inside herself and twisted with everything she had. It gave way and a moment later she was putting the bottle up to her lips.

  Her tongue seemed to absorb the first drops that hit them, not even letting them pass to the back of her throat. She could feel her lips, dry, splitting. The water was warm but she had never tasted anything so wonderful, so refreshing. She drained the bottle and nearly became hysterical when she realized there wasn’t any more.

  She pulled the bananas out of her pocket and tried to peel the first one. It was just under ripe, though, and didn’t want to peel easily. She dug her fingernail into the skin, trying to puncture it, but it wouldn’t give. She brought the banana up to her mouth and bit down on the top as hard as she could. The taste of the peel nearly made her gag, but she spit it out and then ate the fruit. She did the same with the next one.

  And slowly her vision seemed to come back to her. And with it her ability to think. There had to be a road somewhere nearby. She couldn’t hear any passing traffic, but that could just mean that the area she was in was a little more isolated. She still had no clue which of the islands she was on, not that it would help her even if she did.

  She stood slowly, and looked around. She didn’t want to go back in the direction of the house, even if there was a road that way. If they had discovered she was gone they’d be searching for her and she refused to walk back into their arms.

  The mountains she had been able to see from the house were behind her. It could be part of the volcano that had formed the island. If they were, they would form part of the center of the island. Which meant she should travel away from them, head for the ocean where the majority of the populace would be.

  She pushed through the trees, looking for more bananas, but those trees seemed to have given way to palm trees. She forced herself to keep walking, wondering how far from the ocean she was.

  A sound behind her caused her to pause, listening. Was it an animal, or was that a human footstep? Her heart began to pound in fear. Could they have found her already? She didn’t hear it again and she kept walking, trying to step lightly, but she was too exhausted to do a good job of it. She picked up her pace, abandoning quiet for speed.

  Again she heard a sound behind her, but this time she didn’t stop, she began to move faster, grasping the trunks of the trees with her left hand as she pushed through them.

  A sudden squealing sound to her left caused her to spin in that direction. A flash of brown caught her eye and a moment later she saw the tusk of a wild boar. She picked up her pace, even more eager to reach civilization.

  The trees were becoming fewer. Surely that had to be a good sign. She pushed forward. There had to be a road soon, a house, something.

  And then she saw a break in the tree line, and beyond it, nothing but blue as far as the eye could see. The ocean, it had to be. She limped toward it, aware that she was slowing down. What good the food and water had done couldn’t compensate for her need to sleep and to heal.

  Behind her she heard another step and then a crashing sound followed by a shout. With a gasp she lunged forward, pushing herself harder, praying that she could find the road before her hunters could find her.

  She made it to the last tree and then looked around. All she saw in any direction was red dirt. No cars, no houses, no roads. She stared straight ahead and saw the ocean. She had made it, but why was no one around? She hurried toward it, knowing in the back of her mind that something was wrong, but she was too tired, too terrified to recognize what it was.

  A minute later she figured it out. She was standing at the edge of a cliff. Below her was the ocean, no beach, just waves crashing against a few rocks. She stared in horror. She was trapped. The ocean was before her, a long drop beneath, and her enemies were behind. She twisted her head left and right looking to see where the cliff might start sloping down to the beach.

  It was Hawaii after all, land of a thousand beaches. Where was one when she needed it? She could feel herself beginning to hyperventilate. The shouts were closer. They had found her, they were going to recapture her. There was nowhere she could run, they would be faster. There was nowhere she could hide. She was standing on a barren plateau with the nearest vegetation a hundred yards distant and not nearly thick enough to be lost within.

  There was nowhere she could go but down. She stared at the face of the rock wall, searching for stairs, a pathway, anything. But the rock face was sheer, unforgiving. There was no way down.

  Unless you jump.

  Bile flooded her mouth and she backed away from the cliff, shaking.

  No, never, I can’t, she thought, her mind seeming to shatter. It’s too far, I could never survive it.

  Yes you could, the voice whispered again.

  The rocks would crush her.

  Not if you fall in the right place.

  God, you can’t ask me to do this. You know what happened last time. My sister…I can’t.

  “I can’t!” she screamed, staggering away from the edge.

  You must! Now!

  “I can’t, I’ll fall,” she whispered.

  Let me catch you.

  God was talking to her. She knew it, felt it. She had never heard His voice so clear. And He had never asked anything so impossible of her. She couldn’t. Anything else, but not this, never this. She didn’t want to jump, she couldn’t.

  And she heard her sister’s voice in her mind, laughing, telling her that it was fine, that nothing was going to happen to her, that she should jump.

  Her sister had never been more wrong.

  But God had never been so insistent.

  Jump! the voice commanded.

  And the men were upon her, they would have her in a moment. She could hear at least two voices. One of them was Mr. Black. He was talking to her, but she was long beyond being able to hear him. There was nothing he could offer her, only more torture and death. She had nothing he wanted and he would figure that out sooner or later.

  She couldn’t go back to that room, that house, captivity and the endless, crushing pain and fear.

  She stepped to the ledge, she looked down. Below the waves were crashing on the rocks.

  She had to jump. There was no other way.

  She closed her eyes and she jumped.

  14

  Cindy jumped, expecting to feel the rush of wind on her face and the sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach as she plunged off the cliff into the crushing waves of the ocean below. But instead she felt a hard hand clamp around her arm and yank her backward. She fell to the ground hard and opened her eyes to see the face of Mr. Black staring down at her. She could see fury burning in his eyes.

  “You’re either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid to try that,” he said.

  “Stupid,” she heard herself whisper. It was absurd. He wasn’t looking for an answer from her. What compelled
her to give one anyway was beyond her.

  “Clever, heading into the jungle instead of making for the highway. My sentry never even saw you.”

  She wanted to cry. If she had only listened to the voice, if only she had jumped sooner she might be free.

  Or dead, she reminded herself.

  “You have proven yourself to be quite resourceful…again. This now leaves me with the question of what to do with you.”

  And from the look on his face she was pretty sure that killing her on the spot was currently topping his list of options.

  “Take me back to Oahu,” she blurted out.

  He raised an eyebrow. “And why on earth would I want to do that?”

  “Because,” she said, struggling for something to say, something that would buy her time and one more opportunity to escape or be rescued. “I can take you to where I hid it,” she said. Her only value to him was in helping find whatever it was he was looking for.

  “How about you just tell me where it is or I make things really unpleasant for you?”

  She licked her cracked, bleeding lips. “More unpleasant than killing me?” she challenged, feeling like an idiot even as she heard the words coming out of her mouth. “I don’t think so. And it would be too difficult to describe the location. And…and only I can retrieve it.”

  “I’m listening.”

  She felt panic flare in her. She was lying through her teeth, struggling to say things that sounded plausible. “I’m done talking until you get me back to Oahu.” She pressed her lips together, hoping the symbolic gesture was not lost on him.

  He pulled a knife out of his pocket and crouched down next to her. He placed the blade against her cheek and she forced herself to remain absolutely still and stare him in the eyes. She knew that if she flinched, even in the slightest, it was all over. He stared back at her, eyes hard and calculating. She wanted to blink, but she refused to let herself. It was like some of the insane staring contests she’d had with friends as a kid. She had always won. Now was not the time to start losing.