The Hidden Survivor (Book 2): Unlawful Restraint

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The Hidden Survivor (Book 2): Unlawful Restraint Page 12

by Mccoy, Connor


  He was glad for the companionship, all the more so because Daniel knew his way through the woods and did not hesitate once. If Glen had managed to make it back at all, it probably would have been after at least two wrong turns.

  Daniel led Glen to a small cabin on the side of the hill that would overlook the town in daylight. They mounted the porch and Daniel took a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. They slid into an entryway between two doors, and Daniel closed the outer door before opening the inner.

  Glen was surprised. They entered what could only be called a cozy living space. There was a fire in the fireplace and lanterns sitting on a coffee table and hanging above a small dining room table. The windows were covered with blackout material, which explained the absence of light from the outside. Daniel hung up his coat on a hook near the door and poked the up the fire.

  Glen followed him in and sat on the rustic couch made of wood covered in animal skins. Daniel sat across from Glen and sighed, stretching his legs toward the fire.

  “This is my favorite place,” Daniel said, “even before a battle, or maybe especially before one. I can relax here. Feel at peace.”

  “I can see why,” Glen said. “The settlement seems like a pretty busy place, not much space for quiet and relaxation there. This would be a good place to gather your thoughts. It reminds me of my place. Smaller, but with the same ambiance.”

  “I’d like to see your place sometime,” Daniel said. “When this is all over.”

  “You are welcome to come visit,” Glen said, “if we all make it through this. If I don’t, I hope that someone would take those three kids back there for me. They need some guidance. Someone to teach them the ropes of backwoods living.”

  “Tell you what,” Daniel said. “If I survive and you don’t, I’ll take care of your strays, but if you survive and I don’t, I’d appreciate it if you would keep an eye on my family. Maybe render medical help if needed?”

  “It’s a deal.” Glen leaned forward and offered Daniel his hand. They shook on the deal that neither wanted to come to fruition.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was the thug who found Mia and Christian in Sally’s room. He opened the door, which Mia hadn’t thought to lock, and came inside, shutting the door behind him. “You are not really good at this kind of thing, are you?” He shook his head and took a seat on a hope chest against the wall across from the end of the bed.

  “If you had locked the doors, I would have tried them, and then moved on,” he said sadly. “But no. You left them unlocked, didn’t even put pillows in the beds to make it look as though you were sleeping.”

  He stretched out his long legs in front of him. “You also could have put something in the window. So if someone came looking for you, they’d know where to find you. But you didn’t. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you scavenged for a living until you met up with your friend the doctor.”

  “We aren’t scavengers,” Christian said. “We’re thieves. Bandits. We take what we need, and we kill anyone who gets in our way. We were going to kill the doctor when we were done with him.”

  “You run across the only doctor within miles, and you plan to kill him because… why? You don’t think you’ll get sick or injured ever again? No one you know will need a doctor ever again? You need to think about resources. You need to take the long view. Now, an accountant you probably won’t ever need. Or an actor, useless. Now, a surgeon, that’s a commodity. He can barter for his services. You’d never be short of food. You’ve got to think.” He shook his head, and his dark eyes pierced Mia, making her middle hurt. She was so foolish.

  “So now I’ve found you conspiring to escape.” He leaned back against the wall, dropped his chin and stared at them.

  Mia felt herself starting to shake. Not from fear, she thought, at least she didn’t feel like she was afraid, it was just the thought of the unknown. And maybe because it was clear that Mia had really, really screwed up. She was so clearly an amateur, and that was embarrassing. She bit her lip and watched the thug thinking.

  “So, what should I do with you?” he finally said. “Any ideas?”

  Mia stared at him in silence, her lips a thin line. Neither Christian nor Sally said anything, but she thought she heard Sally sniff. A glance in her direction revealed Sally’s eyes were glistening with tears.

  “It’s not Sally’s fault that we are in here,” Mia said. “So, if you are going to punish us, then fine. Just leave her out of it.”

  She glared at him and thought she saw the ghost of a smile. She was having trouble taking his threats seriously, and that angered her. She should feel threatened by him. He was menacing and a part of the enemy camp. Hiding a smile was a trick. Trying to make her drop her guard. Or secretly laughing, that might even be worse. Thinking how little and silly she was. She realized she was making a low growling noise in her throat and made herself stop. No need to give him more reason to laugh.

  “Easy,” he said. “I don’t have time to think up elaborate punishments for incalcitrant prisoners. But I will have to move you. I can’t leave you here where you clearly are not secure. And that includes your blameless friend. You won’t be nearly as comfortable, and there won’t be any windows to leave signals in.” He shrugged. “You’ll know better next time. I’m telling you, I could give you lessons in how to be a hostage.”

  “There won’t be a next time,” Christian said, with anger and frustration in his voice. “This is the last time I’m going after a man just because he saved my life. It’s every man or woman for him or herself. This is a bloody waste of time.”

  “Take it easy, Christian,” Sally said quietly. “We’re at a disadvantage here.”

  “Like hell we are.” Christian pointed at the thug. “There are three of us, and only one of him. He’s outnumbered.”

  The thug stood up and pulled a gun out of the top of his boot. He rolled his neck, which popped loudly, sending a crawling sensation down Mia’s spine.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get moving before you all decide to jump me, and you end up hurt. On your feet, soldiers.”

  “I left my shoes in Christian’s room,” Mia said, lifting her pant leg to show him her stocking feet.

  “It’s on the way,” the thug said, “but we’ll leave them there. You,” he pointed at Christian and Sally, “leave your shoes here.”

  “And what if I refuse?” Christian asked.

  “Then I’ll handcuff you. You’d be better off just leaving your shoes behind.” The thug leaned against the door jamb. “Hurry up.”

  Christian glared at him but bent over to untie his boots. Sally’s shoes were on the floor next to the bed. She got up and left them there. Mia took her hand while they waited for Christian to pry the boots off his feet. She did her best not to wrinkle her nose when he did get them off as his feet stunk.

  “Lesson Three of being a hostage,” the thug said as he led them down the stairs, “Never take off your shoes. You never know when or where the chance to escape will come. If you have to put on your shoes first, you may lose the chance.”

  “Like I haven’t already learned that,” Mia muttered, and she heard him snort. What was it with this guy?

  They proceeded down a flight of stairs, through the kitchen, and then down the second set of dark stairs into the basement. The thug flipped a light switch, illuminating a big empty space with a concrete floor and walls. Mismatched cells lined two walls, some which might have come out of a pirate ship’s hold. They were thick and black, speckled with rust. Others looked new, like they’d been pulled out of the local sheriff’s station. Some were small and apparently made for animals as a human couldn’t stand up in them.

  The thug opened the nearest cell and motioned Christian in, locking it behind him. Sally was next, but when he indicated to Mia that she should enter a cell across the room from the other two, she balked.

  “What if I need to use the bathroom?” she asked.

  “Should have thought of that before you w
ent on a walkabout,” he said. “Which reminds me, hold still. You, I’m going to search.”

  Mia seethed with rage as he patted her down, taking both the key and the screwdriver. He held the screwdriver at eye level and examined it. “This is a first,” he said. “I’ve lightened many a captive of various weapons, but never before a Phillips head screwdriver. Dare I ask why?” He raised his eyebrow at Mia.

  “The windows upstairs are screwed shut,” she said. “It’s too noisy to break the glass.”

  He looked as though he had a question or two more, but he didn’t ask, just waved her into the cell.

  “There’s a hole in the corner you can use if you can’t hold your piss,” he said. “But it’ll start to stink down here if you use it too often.” Double-checking to make sure all the doors were secure, he flipped off the light and headed back up the stairs.

  “Don’t feel too sorry for yourselves,” he said from the door into the kitchen. “You’re probably safer down here than you would have been upstairs anyway.” He paused and then added, “even without shoes.” He laughed and closed the door, leaving them alone in the pitch dark of the basement.

  Mia slumped down on the hard concrete floor with her back against the cell bars. She wasn’t particularly eager to explore the space in the dark. Spiders were a certainty, and probably rodents, too.

  “I liked it upstairs,” Sally’s voice echoed in the dark. “Sorry to be a complainer, but couldn’t have we left well enough alone, at least until tomorrow?”

  “It’s my fault, Sal,” Mia said. “I apologize for getting you yanked out of your warm bed to sit in the dark on a hard, cold floor. We’ll probably all get hemorrhoids.”

  “Not me,” Christian said. “I’m sitting on my jacket.”

  “My jacket is upstairs with my shoes,” Sally said, “but I can sit on my sweater.”

  Mia pulled off her sweatshirt, folded it and sat on it. She didn’t know why, but she had more than one memory of her mother telling her she’d get piles from sitting on the front steps when it was cold outside. She’d probably go to her grave not knowing if that was true. And if it was, how did her mother know? She banged the back of her head gently on the bars. Mia hadn’t appreciated her mother when she was alive. Stupid.

  “Do you think you could squeeze through the space between the top of the bars and the ceiling?” Christian asked. “I noticed there was significant space up there.”

  “Not me,” Mia said.

  “I might,” Sally said, “but what good would it do us?

  It’s a residential basement,” Christian said. “There is bound to be some kind of an exit. Even if it’s just a bulkhead, we might be able to escape.”

  “But how would we get you and Mia out?” Sally asked. “I’m not going out there on my own.”

  “If we could get Mia out, she might be able to pick the lock and get me out. But even if we could only spring you, you could go for help, Sally. You could do that.”

  Sally was silent, and Mia found herself wishing she was in the cell next to Christian’s so they could hold hands. That would be a small bit of comfort in this dungeon. Sally and Christian could sit together for warmth if they needed to do so. There’d be bars between them, but they still could gain some warmth and comfort. Mia felt a stab of jealousy and fought to control it.

  She could hear movement across the room, and at first, thought Sally was moving to be closer to Christian, but then she realized the girl was climbing. The rustling was coming from toward the ceiling.

  “I might be able to get out,” Sally said, “but I’m not doing it until we have a plan. It would be stupid for me to get stuck sitting outside of my cell in the dark. Imagine how foolish I’d feel when that jerk found me there.”

  “Yeah, alright,” Christian said. “Got a plan, Mia?”

  “It’s kind of hard to come up with a plan when I can’t see what the options might be,” she said. “First, I think we all should examine the outer wall of our cells. See if you can feel a boarded-up window or a light switch, anything that might help us see.”

  She stood up and, using her hand on the bars to help her, walked until she found the back wall, but not before she stepped in the hole in the floor and nearly twisted her ankle.

  “Watch out for your potty hole,” she said. “I stepped in mine and nearly lost my foot.”

  There were grunts of assent from the other side of the room. Mia ignored them and placed the palms of both hands on the concrete wall, feeling as high up as she could reach. There weren’t any indications of a hidden window, no light switch, no electrical sockets. It was probably just as well there weren’t any sockets, because with her luck today she would have electrocuted herself.

  “I’ve got nothing,” she said. “How about you guys? Any luck?”

  “Nope,” Christian said. He sounded discouraged.

  “I might have something,” Sally said, “there’s a recess about the size of a basement window, but it’s solid. Like a window was cemented over or something.”

  “Knock on it,” Christian said. “See what it’s made of.”

  “Concrete, I think,” Sally said. “It’s definitely not wood.”

  “So, that’s a bust,” Christian said. “Any other brilliant ideas, Mia?”

  “Listen, if there had been a window, that would have been a brilliant idea. You don’t like my ideas? Then come up with a few of your own.” Mia sat down in a huff. She was cold and scared, and they were lucky she could think of anything at all.

  “So, really, no other ideas?” Christian was coaxing now.

  “The only idea I have will make Sally very unhappy, and she’ll probably refuse to do it,” Mia said. “So, there is no point in going into it.”

  “I might do it,” Sally said.

  “You would have to crawl over the bars,” Mia said, “and you already said you didn’t want to do that.”

  “What would I do once I was out?” She was interested now, Mia could tell.

  “You’d search the basement for a window or a way out. You could creep to the top of the stairs and see if you could crack the door – or better still turn on the light. The switch is at the bottom of the stairs. Then we could see what the options are.”

  “Why can’t you crawl over the top of your cell?” Sally asked. “You’re braver than I am.”

  “My bars go all the way to the ceiling,” Mia said. “I think that’s why he put me over here. There’s no gap between the ceiling and the cell. You’re brave enough for this, Sal. Just turn on the light, look around a little, and then crawl back into your cell. If they come down here, they’ll just think he forgot to turn off the light.”

  “Oh man,” Sally said, sounding miserable. “I really hate this new normal baloney. I’d give anything to be back in college.”

  “You would have graduated by now, Sal,” Christian said. “Just climb the bars.”

  Mia could follow Sally’s progress by the sounds she was making. First, there was rustling as she climbed, then grunting as she squeezed between the bars and the ceiling, then a thud as she landed on the other side. A minute later the room was flooded with light and Sally was standing at the foot of the stairs, her hand on the light switch.

  Mia looked around her cell, noting the lack of anything helpful, unless you considered a hole in the floor a useful item. It wasn’t even big enough to pee in, there’d be urine all over the cell floor if she tried it. Forget anything else. She played with the lock on her cell door. She might be able to pick it if she had a tool. She’d have to ask Sally to search the nooks and crannies of the basement. Maybe there’d be something she could use. Better still, they might keep a key down here.

  She craned her neck, trying to see beyond the stairs. This end of the basement was swept bare, and there wasn’t a bulkhead to exit by, but you never know what might be in the dark at the other end. Tools, an exit, food and water. Her stomach grumbled at the thought of food, and she wondered if Sally could creep into the kitchen and get them some
thing to eat when the sound of footsteps echoed overhead.

  “Sally! Get back in your cell,” she stage-whispered, frantic that her friend should not be caught. “Run.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was midnight when the inner door opened to admit Eric and Jonno, who brought with them the bite of approaching winter. They stomped their feet, blew on their hands, and moved to the fire to warm themselves.

  “Too bad there isn’t room in here for the rest of the crew,” Jonno said. “Everyone has numb fingers.”

  “You should at least send the kids in for a while. They must really be feeling the cold.” Daniel raised his eyebrows. “Do you want me to go get them?”

  “They’ve gone ahead,” Eric said, his back to the fire now. Glen was surprised how much cooler it felt with the two men blocking the heat. The temperature must really have dropped.

  “We sent Tim ahead with a couple of the small teens and Marta to keep an eye on them. They should be in town by now,” Jonno explained.

  “Which means we really should get a move on. We don’t want our surprise to be ruined.” Eric rummaged in a messenger bag slung across his chest, pulling out a dog collar and a leash. He buckled the collar on his own neck, and hooked the leash onto it, tucking the loose end into his pocket.

  “I’ll be in charge of this until we get closer to the town,” he said. “I don’t want to tempt you.”

  Glen grinned, this was part of the plan. It was going to look as though he’d brought Eric to Terror. Eric would have his hands fastened behind his back with breakaway ties. Once they’d gained entrance to the town, Eric and Glen would overpower Terror. Then Jonno and the rest would take out the other former military men.

  Glen and Daniel pulled on their gear. Daniel tossed Glen a pair of warm gloves, which he put on.

  Outside, Eric sent the others on their way, leaving only the small group of men and women who would accompany Eric and Glen. Once everyone was gone, Eric and Glen stood in the circle of their team members, and Eric said, “Okay Glen, hit me.”

 

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