“I don’t know. It’s not too bad,” Lizabet said. “You could use that ledge.”
“Ledge? That’s not a ledge.” Rachel shot an appalled glance at the strip of decorative molding that marked their floor. It couldn't have been more than eight inches wide. In terms of distance, it was probably only six feet or so but when she looked down at the long drop to the terrace, her head spun. “I can’t use that.”
“Sure you can. It’s definitely wide enough to stand on,” Lizabet argued. “Just keep your face to the wall and edge along until you reach it.”
“What if I slip?” Rachel could hear the panic in her own voice.
“Calm down, Rachel. Take a deep breath.” Sarah patted her back soothingly. “You don’t have to do this. I’m sure T’chok will find your brother.”
“But what if he doesn’t? He’s so small. If he’s hiding, I don’t think he’ll come out for anyone other than me.” The thought of Benji gave her strength. “I have to do it.”
“What if I show you how to do it?” Lizabet started to climb out the window but both women grabbed her before she got her foot over the sill. She glared at them. “I’m sure I can do it.”
“I’m sure you can, Lizzie, but I’m the one who has to do it,” Rachel said. She took another peek out the window, but the ground looked just as far down, and the ledge looked just as narrow.
“Ooh. I have an idea.” Lizabet dashed over to the bed. “What if we tied these sheets together?”
“I don’t think they’ll reach the ground,” Sarah said dryly.
“Ha ha. What I meant is that we could tie one end around Rach, and I could hold the other end. Then if she did fall, I could catch her.”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
“Are you crazy?” A dizzying vision of swinging by a bed sheet rope as Lizabet tried to pull her up caused Rachel to shudder. “She can’t hold me.”
“I bet I can.”
“I’m sure you can,” Sarah said soothingly. “But maybe it would be better to tie it to something in the room like the bed or the armoire.”
“I guess that would work.”
“Once Rachel reaches the fire escape, she can untie her end. You can pull it back through and put the sheets back on the bed. No one will know how she got out. You’re a genius, Lizzie,” Sarah exclaimed.
Rachel’s excitement didn’t match theirs, but she had to admit that she liked the idea of attempting the dangerous walk with some kind of safety harness.
“Do you know how to make a rope out of bed sheets?’ she asked doubtfully.
Lizabet grinned. “How do you think I snuck out of the house the night they picked me up?”
Chapter Fourteen
By the time lights out rolled around, everything was ready. The makeshift rope was tied around one leg of the antique armoire. They had tested it as best they could by fastening the other end to Rachel’s waist while both women tried to pull her across the floor. The giant piece of furniture hadn’t budged. Her laundry bag was packed with the food they’d collected, plus one of Sarah’s metal knitting needles, a towel, and an extra sheet. A blanket would have been nice as well but was too bulky to fit in the bag. They had used braided yarn to form straps to transform the bag into a wearable pack. She was wearing both sweaters, as well as one of Lizabet’s precious tank tops. The girl had also offered her flannel shirt, but Rachel refused. Sarah had contributed several pairs of socks and an extra pair of leggings.
“Are you sure about this?” Sarah asked.
“I have to try.”
“I know.” She sighed. “Take care of yourself.”
“You, too. Remember that you don’t know anything about what happened to me.”
“Okay.” Sarah bit back a sob and gave Rachel a fierce hug. “Love you, Rachel. Go find your brother.”
“Love you, too. I hope I see you again one day.”
“I hope so.” Sarah gulped and ran from the room.
Fifteen minutes later, the guard knocked on the door for the last check before lights out. Both women answered and he moved on. They turned out the lights and sat together in the darkness, leaning against the wall.
“Are you scared?” Lizabet asked finally.
“Terrified,” she admitted.
“You know, no one would do what you’re doing for me.” The girl didn’t sound sad, just resigned.
“What about your mom and dad?” Lizabet never mentioned them, but she had to have someone.
“Nah. My mom ran off when I was a kid. My dad just wants me to keep the fucking house clean and stay out of his fucking hair. That’s an exact quote, by the way.”
Rachel took Lizabet’s hand in the dark room.
“You have friends, you know.”
“Yeah, right. They’re just out for a good time.”
“I didn’t mean them. I meant me and Sarah. We’re your friends. We’d come for you.”
Rachel heard a soft sob as Lizabet’s hand tightened on hers. She squeezed back.
The residual noise in the hotel dropped into evening silence. Rachel peeked out of the windows, but just as on the previous night, the guards were no longer positioned at the back of the hotel. Most of the other bedroom windows were now dark.
“I guess it’s time.” She tried to give Lizabet a reassuring smile but was glad the darkness hid it.
“Now?”
“The sooner, the better. With any luck they won’t even notice until the morning inspections. I should be miles away by then.”
Together they tied the other end of the bed rope around Rachel’s waist and pushed the window open. Rachel swung one leg over the windowsill and stopped.
“If… if I manage to get away, I promise I’ll come find you as soon as I can.”
“I believe you.” Lizabet’s eyes were bright with tears. “Take care of yourself, Rach, and that brother of yours, too.”
“I will. Love you, Lizzie.”
“I love you, too. Now go, before I start bawling like some little punk.”
Rachel swung the other leg over. Her feet did fit comfortably on the ledge, or at least as comfortably at they could considering her position high in the air. The wind whipped around her, chilling even through her layers of clothes. Her hands felt numb, but she suspected that it was more from fright than the actual temperature drop. The laundry bag with her limited supplies was tied over her shoulders.
Holding on to the window frame, she carefully rose to her feet, facing into the room. Lizabet had the rope in her hands, ready to let it out when she moved. Still clutching the window with her right hand, she let her left move along the surface of the building. The brick didn’t leave much to hold on to, but the roughened surface was comforting beneath her fingers. There was room for her to stand facing the wall; as long as she didn’t consider the vast empty space behind her, it felt almost safe. She shuffled her feet to the left, and gradually moved along the ledge until her right arm was fully extended, still clutching the window frame.
“You have to let go,” Lizabet whispered. “You’re doing good. Not much further.”
Prying her fingers from around the casing was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. Even though her feet were still fully planted on the ledge and her position hadn't changed, a wave of vertigo swept over her and she had the sudden feeling that she was falling backward. The supply bag seemed to tug at her back, threatening to send her out into the void. Cold sweat broke out all over her and her knees started to shake.
“Rach. Rach! If you don’t answer me, I’m coming after you.” Lizabet’s voice finally penetrated and she opened her eyes to see the girl with one leg out of the window.
“No. Don’t come out here. I’m fine.” The hoarseness in her voice belied her words but Lizabet paused.
“Are you sure?”
“Not really.” She attempted a laugh, but it came out on the edge of hysteria. “Just keep talking to me. Tell me about the guy you were going to meet when you got caught.”
“Dylan? Well
, now I think he was probably kind of a dick but, man, could he play guitar…”
Lizabet’s words didn’t really penetrate, but Rachel let the sound of them flow over her as she managed to move her feet. She kept her eyes focused on the girl as she pressed her body into the wall but kept shuffling to the left. Frigid brick scraped against the side of her face, but she couldn’t bring herself to lift her head from the solid surface. The icy wind whipped at her hair, tearing it loose from her braid and sending it into her face. Lizabet’s voice grew quieter as Rachel moved away and she felt oddly timeless. All that existed was this ledge, the hard brick against her breasts and thighs, and the constant slow step, pause, step, pause. When her outstretched hand finally touched cold metal, she startled. For an infinite second, she thought she would lose her balance, but she managed to lunge to the left so that her hand could clasp the metal ring.
A sob escaped as her fingers closed around the frigid metal, so solid beneath her hand. She shuffled closer until her whole body was tight against the fire escape. Lizabet raised her arms in a silent cheer. Rachel pried a hand off the surface far enough to give her a thumbs up in return.
The rings were about two feet apart; falling at her ankle, waist, and just above her shoulder. Reluctantly dragging her eyes away from Lizabet, she turned her head to examine the fire escape in more detail. Now that she was here, she could see a ladder running down the building inside the framework. Painted the same color as the brick, it had blended into the surface. A shudder of relief swept through her. Climbing down a ladder didn’t seem nearly as difficult as maneuvering from one ring to another.
Placing her foot on the metal circle, she ducked to work her way between the bars. Her foot slipped and threw her off balance; she started to fall, feet flailing. A sharp tug at her waist arrested the movement, holding her in place long enough for her to throw her arms around the middle ring. One foot dangled over the emptiness beneath her, but she managed to pull it back up until she was crouched between the two metal circles. Her heart hammered, breath coming so quickly she gasped for air.
“Rachel,” Lizabet called, panicky and too loud in the quiet night.
Rachel managed to turn her head and saw the girl was half out of the window again. It took all her courage to release one arm enough to motion her back. Lizabet nodded but stayed with one leg over the sill. Rachel took a deep breath and looked down. She immediately wished she hadn’t. The few lights still illuminating the back of the hotel were enough to reveal how far down she had to climb, even though the bottom of the fire escape lay in a deep pool of darkness. Even with the ladder, how could she make that climb?
Oddly enough, it was the thought of T’chok that steadied her. He was a warrior, but he thought she had courage. He wouldn’t think so if he could see her now and, even knowing that he would probably never know, she didn’t want him to be disappointed in her. Gritting her teeth, she slid one foot over until it was safely on a rung. The second followed and then she pried her fingers away their clenched grip and she reached for the ladder. A push to the left and she was there; hands and feet safely on the rungs and her body enclosed within the metal circles that gave at least an illusion of safety.
Hooking one arm around the metal bar, she worked at the knot around her waist with her other hand. It would have been easier with two hands, but she couldn’t bear the thought of bracing herself without at least one hand on the ladder. Her slip had tightened the cloth, but she worked at it until it finally came undone and slipped from around her waist. She waved the free end at Lizabet and watched as the girl began to reel the rope back in. No turning back now. Even with the safety of the bed rope, she didn’t think she could have made it back across the ledge, but without it, it was impossible.
Her fingers were beginning to cramp from her tight clasp on the ladder and the cold was seeping into her bones. Biting her lip so hard she felt the skin break, she forced herself to begin the descent. For as long as she could, she watched Lizabet, motionless in the window, until the slight figure disappeared into the darkness. One rung at a time, she reached one foot down, then lowered her hand, then moved the other foot and the remaining hand. Simple, repetitive motions, even though her arms and legs were feeling the strain, even though her fingers were going numb with cold and she couldn’t feel her toes. She didn’t look down again, just concentrated on repeating the motions until at last her foot found nothing but empty air.
Chapter Fifteen
Rachel brought her foot back up and dared to look down for the first time since beginning the descent. In spite of the distance that she had climbed, the twelve-foot gap that remained still intimidated her. She had a sheet in her pack; she could still take it out and tie it to the bottom rung and slide down it. However, if she did, she would have no way to untie it and it would remain there—a flag announcing her departure. In addition to that, given how cold she felt already, she suspected that anything that could help to protect her from the elements would be welcome.
If she could hang down from the bottom rung, it wouldn’t be that much further to drop down. Surely, she could manage that. Crouching down until she was kneeling on the last bar, she let one leg dangle free. She brought it up until it was braced against the building and then moved her other leg into position next to it. Carefully walking her feet down the side of the building, she kept moving until only her hands remained on the bar. She let her feet swing free so that her weight was suspended from her arms. They started to quiver immediately, and she knew she couldn’t support her weight for long. Trying her best to relax her body, she forced her hands to let go.
The ground rushed up to meet her, the stone pavement unforgiving. Her landing was by no means graceful, but she managed to curl into it so that she ended up stunned but uninjured. Fortunately, her awkward attempt to roll had kept her in the shadow of the building. For a moment, she lay silent, listening for any signs of alarm but the night was quiet around her. Hauling herself to her feet, she winced. Nothing was sprained but she would be sporting some serious bruises from the collision with the ground. Pushing that aside to worry about later, she crept to the edge of the terrace, staying next to the building to take advantage of the darkness.
Light shone from only one window between her and her destination. She could hear the sound of guards laughing and talking in Yehrin coming from the window. Holding her breath, she dropped to the ground and crawled beneath the lighted expanse. Heart pounding, she paused as she reached the far side but there was no interruption to the rhythm of their conversation. A short distance later, she reached the low balustrade at the edge of the terrace. Climbing over it, she dropped the short distance to the ground, flinching as the movement jarred her bruised limbs.
After a swift internal debate, she decided to take the paved path down to the lakeshore. It was overgrown enough that she should be able to duck back into the bushes if she heard someone coming but it would be considerably faster than trying to make her way through the undergrowth. No one appeared and she made her way swiftly down to the lake and along the path until she could see the wall looming in ahead of her. Lizabet’s experiment had indicated that there was some type of automated warning within about fifty feet of the wall. In the darkness, it was hard to determine distance. She weighed the chance of discovery against the length of time she would have to spend in the icy water.
In the end, caution won out and she worked her way down over the boulders that formed the shore of the lake. With the rocks rising around her, she wouldn’t be visible unless someone was on the path right above her and her shoulders relaxed a fraction. Sitting on a boulder just above the water line, she pulled her pack off her back. The rocks blocked some of the wind, but she still shivered as she undressed. When she was down to panties and tank, she hesitated. The idea of being completely naked left her feeling even more vulnerable than she already felt, but in the end, the idea of dry clothes at the end of her swim outweighed her hesitation and she stripped them off as well.
Everythin
g stowed and the bag sealed once more, she slipped it on in front of her body to provide some minor degree of insulation and stepped down into the water. The shock of the icy water turned her feet numb immediately and she struggled to position them on one of the rocks beneath the surface. Reminding herself to remain silent, she forced herself to lower her body slowly into the water, the shock of the frigid liquid leaving her gasping for breath. Knowing her body was reacting to the cold, she stayed in position until she could regain control over her breathing. As soon as it settled, she kicked off, moving away from the shore but trying to stay in the shadow of the boulders.
She had always been a strong swimmer, and the laundry bag pack was unexpectedly buoyant, helping to keep her afloat, but the freezing temperatures quickly sapped her strength. By the time she drew even with the wall, her teeth were chattering, and she had to force her arms and legs to respond. This was the most dangerous part. She was only ten feet or so from the shoreline. If the warning barrier extended out into the lake, she was screwed. If the water hadn’t been so cold, she could have gone further out into the lake, but she knew she was already tiring rapidly. All she could do was keep swimming.
As the wall retreated behind her with no sounds of alarm or stirring of activity, Rachel would have drawn a sigh of relief if she had breath to focus on anything other than swimming. Since they had not been able to test this side of the barrier, she had no idea how far the warning area would extend. She kept swimming, more and more slowly, until she knew she had reached the limit of her strength. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed that the wall had disappeared around a curve of the lake. Even that slight alteration to her rhythm threw her off balance and she flailed for a few minutes before finding the strength to resume her stroke. She had to get out of the water; she couldn’t go on.
Turning toward the shore, she sobbed gratefully when she felt mud beneath her feet. Unlike the manicured shoreline near the hotel, there were no neat piles of boulders for her to climb. Instead she had to pick her way through the mud and branches that littered the edge of the water. Using a half-fallen tree, she managed to haul herself up the bank and collapse in a pile of leaves. Even though she was too exhausted to want to move, she knew she had to dry off and get dressed as quickly as possible. Shivering so hard she could barely control her hands; she managed to open the bag and pull out her towel. Fortunately, the bag had kept out the water and she dried her body, rubbing the towel hard along her limbs in an effort to regain warmth.
Alien Prisoner Page 11
