Frozen Footprints

by Therese Heckenkamp

  Abner narrowed his eyes. “You know the terms of this agreement. I made it very clear. If you can’t do your duty by your wife, then you don’t deserve to have her.” He took a hungry step toward me.

  Clay stepped in front of me. The brothers stood mere inches apart, Abner towering over Clay. “Face it, boy, you failed. You’re going to have to step aside. I brought some rope with me, and I think I’ll just have your little wife here tie you up. And then . . . you can watch a real man in action.”

  I held the crucifix ready behind me while I trembled from head to foot with anger, indignation, and humiliation. My tongue couldn’t even form a word, let alone speak a sentence. But Clay’s did. In fact, he spoke very calmly and coolly. “Abner, what would Lydia think of you right now?”

  Rage flashed across Abner’s features. “Do not speak to me of her.”

  “You vowed to be faithful to her,” Clay continued, “and I know you meant it. That bond of commitment doesn’t dissolve just because she walked out on you.”

  Unidentifiable emotion rippled over Abner’s face.

  “If you ever truly loved Lydia, don’t mar her memory like this.”

  I was amazed at Clay’s composure and tactical approach. He knew his brother well enough to know just where to strike. Abner’s nostrils flared wide and the tendons in his neck stood out like steel cables. He seemed to be battling within himself. I waited with pounding heart to see what would happen next, but what happened next was completely unexpected.

  “Fire!” someone yelled from up above. Max.

  With a curse, Abner pulled the ladder free and scrambled up it. Even in his urgency, he remembered to lock the door behind him.

  I sniffed the air, but smelled nothing. Of course, why would I, deep down in this hole? “Do you think there’s really a fire up there?” I asked, while trying to decide whether that would be a good or bad thing.

  Clay shook his head. “No idea. But if so, that’s some timing. Guess I’m not the only one trying to redirect Abner’s attention.”

  I turned to him and looked steadily where I believed his eyes to be. I imagined their rich brown-gold coloring as I said, “You were doing a great job. Thank you.”

  * * *

  It felt about fifteen minutes later that the door above opened. My breathing paused as I waited to see who would come down the ladder. No flashlight accompanied the person, and I saw with relief that it was Max.

  Behind him, Abner’s voice ricocheted from the dryer. “Clay, get up here! You can thank that punk for the damage you’re going to have to spend the rest of the day cleaning up.”

  Clay touched my hand as he left. “Keep digging,” he whispered.

  When the door closed behind Clay, sealing off all light, the first thing Max said was, “Are you okay, Char?”

  “Yes, I—”

  “They didn’t touch you?” Anxiety stiffened his voice. “Neither one of them?”

  “No. I’m fine. Clay never had any intention of hurting me. He really came through this time.”

  Max grunted. “Maybe, but now he’s back up there doing Abner’s dirty work.”

  Before I could say anything, he went on. “I caused quite the diversion, though, hey?”

  “Awesome. Tell me how you did it.”

  “Sure, but first, let’s get some light so we can dig while we talk. Where’s the flashlight?”

  “It burned out,” I admitted regretfully. “We’ve got some candles, but I couldn’t find the matches.”

  I heard a rustle, a snap, then a sizzle as a single flame illuminated Max’s face and hands. “That’s ’cause I swiped ’em on my way out yesterday. How do you think I started the fire?”

  But I let out a cry of dismay as I took in his bloody nose and the wicked bruise under his right eye.

  “It’s nothing.” He sniffed and wiped away some blood, smearing it and making it look worse. He turned, found the black candles, and lit them. “Look what else I got.” He turned back to me and pulled a metal spoon from his coat pocket. “Now we can work twice as fast. And we’re going to need to,” he added grimly. “I have a strong feeling Abner’s patience is wearing dangerously thin.”

  He approached the escape hole and did a double-take. “What happened here? Why’d you fill it back in? Abner didn’t find it, did he?”

  “No. This was to help make sure he didn’t.” I hurried over and began scooping the loose dirt from the hole. It cascaded out easily, like a dirt waterfall. “Clay’s idea.”

  “Clay knows about this?” Max swore.

  “It’s all right, really. He won’t give us away. Look what he did—he dug all this for us. We’re a lot closer to escape thanks to him.”

  “I still don’t trust the guy,” Max muttered. “But this is our only chance, so let’s dig.”

  We each gripped a spoon, and I was glad for the slight padding of my gloves. It helped to insulate the pain in my palm from the pressure of the spoon handle. Meanwhile, my cut finger throbbed dully. And the shallow slice on my throat barely bothered me at all.

  While we worked, Max began telling his story, beginning with Abner handcuffing him to the foot of the bed. “I wasn’t on the bed, though; I was on the floor. When Abner returned, he seemed to take a lot of pleasure in telling me what he did down here, the whole ceremony thing—the guy’s a maniac. He kept taunting me with what he was going to do to you in the morning. I knew I had to keep him away from you. I was racking my brains for a plan. I had the matches, so I knew I could start a fire when he left, but being cuffed to the bed, I knew that idea wouldn’t do me any good unless I wanted to burn with the room. I thought about picking my cuffs—skilled magicians can do that, obviously—but I needed something to pick with. Finally, I was so exhausted that I laid my head down, and I spotted a fishing pole under the bed.”

  “A fishing pole? Let me guess—you used the fishing hook to pick your lock?”

  “Not quite.” Dirt flew from the hole as Max worked eagerly.

  I smiled at how thoroughly he seemed to enjoy telling the story.

  “Abner barely slept all night, just stayed in bed reading a black book. When he finally started snoring, I made my move. I pulled against the handcuffs and stretched my fingers and just managed to reach the pole. Sure, I considered the hook, but it was no good. Too short, sharp, and bent. Then I noticed that the closet door was open about an inch. Since it’s not a large room, the closet wasn’t too far from me. I used my legs to inch the door open wider. Then I held the pole between my feet and lifted my legs, trying to use the tip of the rod to snare one of the wire coat hangers. It wasn’t easy, but I finally got one. From there, it was a simple matter to unbend the wire to pick my cuffs.

  “Abner woke up while I was doing that, and I shoved the pole and wire under the bed and pretended to sleep. When he left to visit you, I quickly finished the job. Free of the cuffs, I lit the bed on fire, shouted down to him, and raced out of there, grabbing a spoon from the drawer as I went. See, I figured he’d catch me—I can’t move too fast with this dang foot—and I didn’t want to leave you alone, anyway.”

  “You’re the best twin ever,” I gushed gratefully.

  Max gave a crooked grin, but kept digging. “Abner doused the fire pretty quick, then caught me, and we grappled, as you can see, then he shoved me back down here. But I’m happy; I accomplished my goal—I got him away from you, and now I’m back to protect you. I’m just hoping he’ll be occupied with the repairs for a little while. ’Cause I saw the bedroom when he dragged me back to the dryer—the bed was a complete loss, the carpet and walls a mess. Yeah, I think he’ll be busy. So we’ve got to make the most of this time and work like crazy.”

  I agreed, and despite the pain radiating through my branded hand, I continued digging. We even picked up our pace, working side by side in candlelight. Even when the candles eventually burned out, we didn’t slow down.

  * * *

  The next evening, we broke through the dirt wall. It took us a moment to realize it in
the dark, but my spoon scraped at air and I let out a triumphant squeal. “We’re through!”

  “Let me feel it.” Max pushed his hand into the opening eagerly. “All right! We’re close now. All we have to do is enlarge this enough so we can squeeze through.”

  We carved away at the dirt perimeter, our spoons clinking into each other now and then. My heart thrummed with excitement. By the time we got the opening wide enough, Abner would likely be sleeping. And once outside, we’d have the advantage of hours of darkness to aid our escape. I could practically feel the hot shower and taste the gallon of water and pounds of food I would soon enjoy. As my stomach growled, I noticed our opening became more visible, as if a light glowed somewhere beyond. “That’s weird—”

  Max pushed his dirty glove over my mouth, then pulled me eye-level with the hole. There was just enough room for us to peer through together. A sound like heavy footsteps came pounding down the cellar stairs, and through our peephole, I spotted Abner. I thanked God we hadn’t made the hole any wider yet. With luck, Abner would never notice it or us. Because though he carried a black candle, it didn’t give off much light, just a dim halo. He also carried a bouquet of red roses. I would have exchanged a baffled look with Max, if we could see each other, but I knew we exchanged one mentally.

  Beyond Abner, all I could see of the cellar was an old shovel propped in a corner and a wooden shelf holding some small cans and a rope. Abner knelt down on one knee in the middle of the room, and I shivered because he was now closer to our level, but I prayed that the shadows in the cellar and the thick darkness of our prison would camouflage us.

  Carefully, Abner set the candle and the roses on the dirt floor. “Your favorite flowers,” he whispered, just loud enough to reach my ears. He set a hand softly on the dirt and bowed his head sadly. My eyes riveted on him, unblinking. Who in the world was he talking to?

  I felt a million spiders creeping up my spine. Or is he talking to someone not of this world?

  “Three years, Lydia. Three years to the day since we parted. I still miss you so much. Our little one would have been two. Was it a boy or a girl? I still wonder, every day, but I’ll never know, will I? And we’ll never have that happy family that we dreamed about . . .”

  My gloved fingertips braced the dirt wall as my mind swirled, uncomprehending, and yet comprehending too much.

  “We lost everything. All because of old Perigard and his accursed God. Well, we’re getting our revenge, slowly but surely. We’re eliminating the old man’s family, one by one. The first one was easy, almost too easy.” His slight chuckle ripped through my heart. “A faulty parachute? Happens all the time, an unfortunate accident.”

  I almost gasped out loud, and Max nudged me sharply. I gripped his arm in return, needing his support. How did he remain so composed? Surely, he’d heard what I had, and knew what it meant. Our father, our dear, wonderful, loving father, had been murdered. By Abner. Tears leaked from my eyes and gathered in the corners of my mouth. I tasted salt, yet was too stunned to swallow.

  “So far, that’s only one Perigard down,” Abner muttered, and he clenched his hand into a fist. “It’s not enough! And it was too fast, too painless. I’ve had a long time to plan and prepare since then. Now I’ve got the grandkids, and I promise you, they will suffer as much as possible before they die. And when they’re gone, it will finally be the old man’s turn.”

  My heart was beating so loudly in my ears now, I almost couldn’t hear what he was saying. I didn’t want to hear. And yet, I had to.

  “We’ll save the very best treatment for him. We’ll strip him down, make him cower and cringe, drag him through the snow and ice, douse him with boiling water, slice up his flesh.” Abner licked his lips, then exhaled.

  “But one thing at a time, my dear, one thing at a time. First I need to finish off the kids. Send them to meet their God they love so much.”

  He stroked the dirt lingeringly before rising to his feet. “Justice will be done. Watch and wait, my love, watch and wait. I’ll join you in the darkness when my mission here is complete, I promise.” He lifted the black candle. “I’ll be your prince, and we will be together forever, in the kingdom of power.”

  He melted away from view, but I heard his steps retreating up the cellar stairs. Max and I remained staring into the black hole, and that was what I felt inside—an empty, gaping black hole. In the next instant, my soul overflowed with fear and grief. I pushed away from the wall, feeling as though the dirt was filling my lungs. I covered my face, shuddering with sobs. Abner hadn’t just ruined our past week, he’d destroyed our past two years. If not for that evil man, our lives would have been completely different.

  Dad would still be alive.

  A strong grip on my shoulders preceded Max’s voice. “Char, I know.” The depth of emotion and meaning in those three words were a balm to my soul. He did know. He was my twin. He knew exactly how I felt. I heard him inhale. “But now, you’ve got to pull yourself together. It’s what Dad would want. We still have to widen this hole before we can escape. And we’ve got to escape. We’ve got to get Abner arrested, not for ourselves, but to get justice for Dad.”

  “That won’t bring him back.” I gulped. “That won’t bring him back.”

  The pain was so fresh, it felt as though our dad had just died. Discovering this new information changed everything. I’d grieved for him years ago, but now it didn’t count. I’d grieved for a dad who had died in a tragic accident, not one who’d been vengefully murdered.

  I became aware of a scraping sound and realized that Max had gone back to digging. Strong and composed, he was directing his emotions productively. I sucked in a deep, trembling breath, swallowed my tears, and joined him.

  * * *

  “I think it’s big enough now,” Max decided. “Go ahead and give it a try.”

  I wriggled through the narrow dirt tunnel, feeling much like a worm. Max attempted to follow, but couldn’t quite make it.

  “Still too tight,” he declared. So he handed me a spoon and I worked on enlarging the cellar side, while he worked on his side. At last, he made his way through, joining me in the cellar.

  “We did it.” He clasped my hand briefly, but the excitement of reaching this long-awaited goal was clouded by urgency. We still had two more doors to pass through before we could consider ourselves free.

  I glanced around the cellar, and our surroundings seemed just a shade less black than the pitch darkness we were used to in the prison hole. We headed carefully to the stairs and crept up them, keeping our hands along the dirt wall for guidance.

  Max, in front of me, stopped at the trap door and listened for a full minute at least. “Nothing,” he whispered finally. “Let’s go.” I heard him push against the wood. “Darn it, it won’t open.” There was a long pause as he examined the problem. “The doors move just enough so I can fit a finger between the crack, but there’s a wooden bar on the other side, locking us in.”

  “The wood can’t be very thick. You could break it, right?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t think we want to risk the noise.”

  “Here, let me feel; my hand is smaller.” I pulled off my glove and exchanged places with him. Indeed, I could fit my fingers through the narrow space that was created by pushing up against the shutter-like doors, but then I felt the slat of wood running firm across the center. I tried twisting my fingers to get a grip on the slat to slide it out, but the only way I could grip the wood was by pressing against the door, and that same pressure wedged the wood too tightly. It wouldn’t budge.

  “We can’t break it, and we can’t slide it out,” I muttered. “There’s got to be another way.”

  We became silent, thinking. A faint noise, coming from far away on the other side of the door, intruded on the silence, and I put my ear to the crack. The distant, deep rhythmic rumble confused me at first, then made my lips quirk. “I think I hear Abner snoring up a storm.”

  “Could be Clay.”

  “No, it�
��s way too ugly sounding. I’m sure it’s Abner.”

  “Fine, but that doesn’t solve our problem. I guess maybe we could just hope Abner’s a deep sleeper and risk breaking the door open.”

  “No. We’ve come too far to do something stupid. What about going back down to check this place out? We didn’t search it. Aren’t cellars usually places to store things, like tools? Let’s go see if we can find something helpful.”

  So we headed back down and searched blindly with our hands. I felt the shovel, rope, and shelf of cans that I’d seen earlier, when Abner had been down here. Then I searched the opposite wall, the one where we had broken through, and discovered a shelf stood above our opening. I ran my hands over the surface and tried not to think of mousetraps or razors catching my vulnerable fingers. The last thing I needed was another wound.

  Suddenly, I felt the prick of a sharp-toothed blade. My hand drew away, then returned cautiously. “A saw,” I hissed. “Max, I found a saw! It’s the perfect thing. Narrow enough to fit through the crack, and sharp enough to do the job. All we have to do is saw through the wooden bar!”

  He approached me, and I carefully guided the handle of the saw into his hands. “Great find,” he agreed. “But this is still going to make some noise.”

  I smiled. “Yes, but I think it will blend right in with the snoring.”

  “Good point.”

  We climbed back up the stairs—hopefully for the last time—and Max went to work while I prayed silently. It was an awkward way for Max to work, I was sure, sawing something above him, with sawdust probably falling in his face, but he made no complaint.

  Many moments later, the sawing stopped. “Char, we’re good to go.”

  I transitioned mid-prayer to Thank you, thank you, thank you, then followed Max up and out of the cellar, into the darkness of the cabin kitchen.

  But this was not really darkness. Not to us. The glowing night made its way through the outside tangle of trees and filtered sporadically through the small cabin windows. To us, deprived of sight for so long, this was magnificent visibility.