Chapter 4

A Chapter by RunsWithCats

Finally, we have reached the longer chapters. Hope you like it.

Chapter Four

Upon awaking, I felt a sense of dread creep into my mind. How am I going to get out of here, I pondered. Just then I remembered the boy. Oh my gosh! How am I going to get out of here!?

I jumped up, but was only rewarded with more bruises added to my wrists and ankles. Oh yeah, I’m chained to a wall. That’s great. I looked down at the cuffs, and then to where they were attached to the wall. The two cuffs fastened on my wrists were made of metal and were attached to the wall by a chain of metal links. The last metal link of each cuff was hooked on a small clasp halfway up the wall. The ankle cuffs were a little harder. The last link on the end of each ankle cuff was fastened to a clasp inside the wall.

That’s real smart, I thought. Why make it so easy for me to escape… unless it’s a trap. I quickly pushed the thought from my mind and stretched up as far as I could. My arms were stretched above my head because of the stupid chains. The chain link started to inch up the clasp, but then I huffed as I lost my balance causing the link to return to its previous position. I dangled there willing my arms not to yank off.

I tried again and was closer to unlinking the cuffs, but again I fell. Again I groaned as the chains pulled my arms high above my head. Only one more try, and I’ll be free. Come on… I took a deep breath and slowly inched up the wall. The links grazed the edge of each clasp and dropped off. I slumped down until I felt the floor beneath me. Now what? I can’t walk around with huge cuffs weighing me down. These things probably weigh 10 pounds each. Wait. I think I still have the pocketknife dad gave me as a birthday present. He said it would come in handy. I guess he was right.

I felt around in my right pocket and came out empty handed. I started to panic. I reached in my other pocket and came up with the knife. I looked down at my wrists and searched for a hole to stick it in. I’d never picked a lock before, but it couldn’t be that hard.

The first cuff slid off my hand easily, and the second one came off just as quick. I reached down and unlocked the ankle cuffs then cautiously peered around.

The room around me was small and not even close to the size of my bathroom at home. It was fairly dark and smelled like a sweaty gym locker. Every wall was covered in green-gray algae.

I was alone, but I remembered that there were other rooms like this one up and down this hall. Remembering the hall with the wooden doors, my eyes searched the room.

I found the door, and I skipped lightly on my feet to it. I was trying not to make any noise, when suddenly I felt a sharp pain shoot up my spine. I arched my back and my scream ripped through the silence. I collapsed on the ground moaning in agony. The pain shot up my spine, and into every part of my body. I rolled to my side and tried to reach my back where all the pain had started. The intense pain raced through my arm. I suppressed another moan and kept reaching.

My hand grasped a small dart stuck in the middle of my spine. I ripped it out, glanced at the tiny, pointed needle, and smelled the tip of it. It smelled like a strong drug that I had studied in science class. What was it called? I had read that it was injected in the quickest path to the brain, in my case, the spine. It has a certain chemical in it that reacts with the brain. It creates an illusion that one is in pain, but really there is no pain at all.

I figured that if I could just clear my head and not focus on the pain, the illusion would go away and the chemical would be ineffective.

I weakly threw the needle away from me and took a deep breath. I focused on a graying scar near the middle finger of my right hand. It stretched in a jagged line just below the knuckle down to the bone in my wrist.

I had been trying to build a birdhouse for my mom on mother’s day. I had gathered some scrap wood, a hammer, and nails. I had been sitting in the carport trying to hammer a nail into the first two pieces of wood when I slipped. The nail had shot in a straight line across my hand plunging deep into my skin.

I had cried the whole time in the ER when they removed the nail and when they insisted stitches were needed. The part that always surprised people in the story was that I had cried the whole time only because I had thought that I had ruined mother’s day and I didn’t have any present for my mom. Everyone was nervous about how I felt, but the whole time I was worried about my mom. Needless to say, she never did let me pick up a hammer again though.

I smiled at the memory noticing for the first time that the pain was completely gone. I had done it! Just as the victory of fighting the pain reached my thoughts, I started to cry. Tears slipped down my face, and I fought the urge to sob. I missed my family so much. This place scared me, but I had to be strong.

I wiped away the wetness that streamed down my face. For the first time I noticed a small, black oval on the ceiling in a corner. I suddenly remembered my school. My school had them on the ceilings to protect the security cameras. A realization hit me. They were watching me.

I slowly inched into a crouching position. I waddled over toward the wall, careful not to attract attention from the unknown watchers. I started to creep toward the corner with the camera slowly. When I reached it, I pressed myself against the wall and slid up reaching out with my hand. My hand brushed the black bulb protecting it, but I wasn’t tall enough to grasp it. I frantically looked around the room searching for something to get me those last couple of inches off the ground. I knew soon that someone would notice my absence in the light of the camera, so my work had to be quick.

Then I saw it. There was one lone chair leaning against the opposite corner of the room. The chair looked like an ordinary dining chair, light brown, polished surface, wood grain finish, but then there were the meticulous flowers along the edges of the frame. The flowers curved in circles, looping, and passing through other flower circles. The flower design ran across the width of the chair, and then folded in on itself, creating a loop of circular flower patterns. It was so ordinary yet extraordinarily beautiful.

The chair looked so out of place though. It definitely didn’t look like it belonged in this musty prison. Could this be a trick? I wondered. I chewed on this thought for less than thirty seconds, before I realized it didn’t matter. I had to get out.

I slid along the wall trying to keep out of the cameras sight. I reached the chair, and picked it up. I ran across the small space of a room with the chair held in front of me. Now I was focused on speed and speed only. At least for the time being. When I had picked up the chair, I was in full view of the camera, so every second counted.

I reached the spot where the camera was positioned, and threw the chair in the corner. I climbed onto the chair. I stepped carefully trying not to break it because something about it drew me to it. I pulled on the black bulb encasing the camera, but screws held it in place. Fishing out my birthday present again, I stuck the tip of the knife into the center of each screw and twisted them out. When each screw popped out, I let them fall to the ground creating a lot of noise. At the moment I didn’t care. All about the speed.

The last screw popped out of the wall, and I ripped the bulb off. Once it was off, I threw it across the room, and it hurled towards the ground. In my hurry, I hadn’t realized it was glass until it left my hand. It shattered with such force that little pieces of glass dug into the skin of my unprotected hands. They had been outstretched to try and catch it after realizing my mistake, but now I instinctively drew them back from the pain shooting through them.

I quickly examined them, but it was dark enough that I couldn’t make out the tiny wedges of glass. I gave up, and returned to the task at hand. More than twenty wires connected the security camera to the wall. Which one is the most important? Since I wasn’t much of a technology expert, I started to saw at them all with my knife. I didn’t know how much longer I had before they came to see what happened, but I knew I had to get out.

I severed the last wire and jumped from the chair. I hadn’t judged the distance correctly, and I landed in a heap instead of on my feet. It took me more time than I had to get up and finish the mad dash to the door. I looked for an opening in the door but found none. Panic took me then. I started to shake, and I felt the floor rush at me. Once I was on the floor, I realized my mistake.

When the guard had unlocked the door and dumped me here, I had noticed that there was no knob or handle. Just a small slit in the middle of the door. Weird. I stilled my hands and stood up. What was I doing. There had to be some way out. I mean I got out of those cuffs off too easy. Wait. Maybe that’s why I could get out of the cuffs so easy. Security didn’t have to be tight here because there was no way out.

No. There had to be.

Again I looked at the door. I ran my hand along the door in search of the small key hole. I searched the middle of the door where I had seen it. Bingo. I reached in my pocket and scrambled for my knife. I searched my other pocket, and then my back pockets. Nothing.

I frantically looked around the room, and then at the chair. I had lost it when I fell in a heap trying to jump from the chair. I let out a sigh of relief and searched the floor. I snatched the knife up, and thrust it in the door. The door slid open with a creek, and I gasped in shock. The door had actually opened.

I raced down the hall and turned a corner all on the balls of my feet. Stealth was now important. I remembered this and ran back to shut the door. I crept around the corner, and stopped suddenly. There, flooding the room I had just left, was a whole group of armed guards. They all piled into the room and were searching it. I crept closer to see the one standing by the door.

He wasn’t dressed like them, in slacks and a tight white shirt, and he looked to be only 21. He stood with the aura of authority though. His hair hung wildly around his face and grazed the tops of his ears. He looked strong, but his muscles didn’t look as strained as the guards’. Definitely a handsome man.

I couldn’t see his face, but I could tell that he was extremely unhappy about all of this. He was watching them search, hoping one of them would find something. In his right hand was a small hand gun, and his left hand flexed stiffly. He took one step forward, and clearly dissatisfied, he turned on his heel. His head was down, but snapped up as soon as he turned around. His eyes locked on mine.

Nada. Turn around and run!

prev chapter