Endurance - Jack Kilborn [63]
He’s too fast. Too strong. There’s no place to escape.
I need to try the ladder.
Using only her upper body, Deb lifted herself up the first four steps. The darkness was absolute, and she had to work by feel. Grabbing a rung with both hands, she did a chin up. Then, holding it with one arm, she stretched up her other arm for the next rung.
Pull.
Reach.
Grab.
Pull.
Reach.
Grab.
Once she got the rhythm, she ascended quickly. And she no longer heard Teddy behind her. Maybe he—
He’s got my leg!
Deb pulled, her arms shaking, but she didn’t move an inch.
He’s going to drag me down. How long can I hold on for?
Deb hooked her elbow over the rung, waiting for him to tug.
Teddy didn’t tug.
Why isn’t he pulling?
Deb almost laughed hysterically when she figured it out.
It’s not Teddy. My Cheetah is caught on the rung.
The curve of the prosthetics acted like a hook, and it had apparently snagged onto the ladder. Deb lowered herself down a few inches, arched her back, and freed her leg.
But now her adrenalin had run out, and her arms were shaking from the strain. Going up any farther was impossible. She needed to get a foothold, rest for a moment, or else she’d lose her grip.
Deb prodded around with the tips of her Cheetah’s, trying to feel for a rung. Her leg found purchase. She tested it, easing herself down. It bore her weight. She stood there on one leg in the darkness, getting her strength back, straining to hear any sound of Teddy.
Where is he?
Maybe he can’t climb ladders. Maybe he isn’t strong enough.
Maybe he—
Deb almost fell when her foothold moved.
Oh, fuck.
I’m standing on him.
She scrambled to get a better grip on the rungs, and then began to ascend again, her tired muscles be damned. Fear gave her speed and strength, and after seven more rungs she reached up for the next and met with a ceiling.
A dead end?
Can’t be. Why have a ladder that takes you nowhere?
Holding on with one hand, her chin resting on the top rung, she pushed up with her free palm.
The ceiling moved, because it wasn’t a ceiling at all. It was another secret entrance.
Deb pushed it aside, then chinned-up into the open space. There was a thin strip of light at face-level, and Deb realized she was looking under a door. She hoisted herself up, pulling herself into this new room. Then she moved the board back and stood on top of it, her head brushing against something.
Coat hangers. I’m in a closet.
Then the door flew open, and Deb was hit in the face so hard it knocked her down.
Felix stared out the rear window of the police cruiser. A tow truck hauling a Corvette passed them going in the opposite direction. It was the only other vehicle he’d seen in the last thirty minutes.
“Where are you taking us?” Cam asked the Sheriff.
He’d asked that same question at least a dozen times. The Sheriff had yet to answer.
Felix wondered what was happening. Was this going to be some sort of backwoods justice? Take them deep into the woods and beat the shit out of them?
No. The Sheriff would have done it already. Why drive for this long? There were plenty of woods around here where no one would here the screams.
So what does he want?
Felix’s mind switched back to Maria. His brief elation that she was still alive had turned into a deep-rooted, sick feeling.
They’re raping and bleeding her. They’ve been doing this for a whole year.
The enormity of the horror she had endured made Felix want to scream.
I have to save her. I have to. I can’t let them do this to her for one more day.
But alongside the outrage and the pain, Felix felt a twinge of something shameful. Something he had a hard time facing.
Is she even Maria anymore?
He couldn’t shake the image of her, gaunt and gibbering, her mind completely fried because of her ordeal.
What if, when I finally find her, she’s a vegetable? What if she’s so traumatized she can no longer take care of herself.
Felix clenched his jaw.
Then I learn to change diapers.
I love her. I’m going to save her. Both her body and her mind.
But Felix didn’t see how he was