Abby looked at the stick she had thrown and saw it had momentarily pierced the soft dirt wall before it fell. That gave her an idea. She took out her knife and quickly sharpened one end of the stick to a point and thrust it into the dirt wall. It easily sunk five or six inches into the dirt before stopping. She took a large stone and hammered at the back end of the stick, until it sunk in farther and was tough to wiggle with her hand. Then, she tested it. It had a little give but for the most part, it held firm.
Abby looked up. It must have been ten feet to the top, and she stood just over five-feet tall. She looked around the floor and grabbed several more sticks that were similar in length and width. As fast as she could work, she sharpened the ends and thrust them into the wall, one over the other. Soon, she had five sticks pounded into the wall at one-foot intervals, as high as her arms could reach.
She stashed her knife and began climbing. The bottom one came loose, and her foot slipped right away. She realized she had to keep her feet very close to the wall and not put so much pressure on the far end of the sticks. She stuck it back in and tried again with success for a few steps. Once she reached the top stick, she stood, holding on, realizing she had nothing above her to grab and continue her ascent.
Grasping her knife, she sank the blade into the wall, giving her a handhold. She continued that way, until she was standing on the top stick and her arms could reach the lip of the hole. She latched onto one of the secured logs at the top and tried to pull herself up. Her feet slipped off the stick, leaving her dangling in the air and clinging to the log. Swinging her feet to catch the edge of the hole, she carefully maneuvered herself up and out, then onto the ground.
Panting from physical exertion and spent adrenaline, she knelt in the clearing for a few minutes to compose herself. As she stood, she heard the rustling of branches about ten feet to her right. Coming out of the trees was Sara, looking shocked.
“You bitch!” Abby yelled at her. Without thinking, she charged at her. Abby made it three steps before a large stone clubbed her on the back of the head, and her world went black.
10
ABBY COULD HEAR unfamiliar voices all around her. Her head was spinning, and pain radiated from the back of her head. With her eyes closed, she guessed it was dark—or at least, she was in a dark place, as no light filtered through her eyelids. She felt it would be painful to open her eyes, despite the lack of light, so she lay there with them closed for the moment, trying to get her bearings.
She struggled to concentrate through the fog of pain and dizziness. There were voices, but she could not make them out. She tried to relax, focus, and will her mind to get in gear. The voices began to come into focus after a few minutes. She could hear Tom, and the background murmurs of his followers. Then, she heard Sara speak, and her blood began to boil.
She did not dare move. She could tell she was laid out on a semi-soft and uneven surface, probably right on the ground. She wriggled her hands and feet to confirm she was bound. Rubbing her wrists back and forth, she realized she was bound much tighter than she had been the last time. As she lay there, she focused on her right leg. Is the knife still there? She couldn’t tell. Moving very slowly, she shifted her leg and pressed the side of it into the ground to see if she could feel the scabbard still attached to her thigh. She felt nothing. Her leg was bare.
The voices were too far away for her to understand, and they began to fade after a while. She had not opened her eyes yet, but she did not feel like she was alone. For one, she had to assume they had learned their lesson and wouldn’t leave her unattended. Aside from that, she felt as though someone else was there. She couldn’t explain it, but she definitely felt it. Once the voices faded until they were barely audible, she thought about opening her eyes. Just as she was about to, she heard the sound of footsteps on the dirt nearby. She kept her eyes closed, trying to appear passed-out.
It was a man. That much, she was sure of. The steps were too heavy for a woman. It smelled like a man, too—a man who had not bathed in quite some time. He was so close now, she could listen to him breathing. Her eyes were still closed, and from what she could tell, her head was facing away from him.
It was all she could do not to jump when he touched her shoulder. Had he not done it so delicately, she probably would have screamed. He shook her very gently, as if he didn’t want her to wake up. She thought about opening her eyes to see who it was. Could Eric have found her? No, she knew it wasn’t Eric. The heavy gait wasn’t his, and he didn’t smell like this. No, it had to be one of them.
He gently shook her again. She just let her head hang to the side and tried to will him away. If she was unconscious, he would leave her alone. At least, that’s what she thought—until she felt his breath on her neck, and his hand slid underneath her tank top. Her mind raced. She was bound and lying on the ground. There were not a lot of options.
His breathing sped up as he massaged her breast under her shirt. Abby was overcome by helplessness and anger. What can I do? If she screamed or fought, the others would come running. She could sense his excitement increasing as he rapidly breathed near her ear. Deep in her gut, she hated herself for allowing this to happen. Suddenly, her thoughts came into focus. The helplessness. The abuse. Even the fact that she was tied up. For a split-second, everything was clear, as two words screamed from the back of her mind: Never again!
In a flash, she snapped her head right and slammed her face into his, sinking her teeth into his cheek. She was like a wounded animal, lashing out however she could. He screamed as he pulled away, leaving a chunk of his flesh behind, which she spit at him in disgust. She rolled onto her knees and launched herself forward, slamming her forehead into his crotch with astonishing force, making herself dizzy from the impact. The man bawled in pain before dropping to the ground, where he began vomiting.
Abby was in a state of shock herself, not knowing what in the world had possessed her to do that. She spat blood from her mouth and took a quick assessment of her surroundings. Her eyes struggled to focus. Her head spun—if not from being assaulted earlier, then from her head-on collision with this man’s crotch. There were no weapons of any kind. She saw nothing but trees all around. She sat and contorted her arms to loop under her feet so that her hands would at least be in front of her. Grabbing a stone with a dull edge, she furiously rubbed the vine that bound her feet and freed them. There was no time to worry about her hands. She heard the voices returning. They were approaching fast. The others must have heard him scream.
She sprinted into the trees but was barely past the tree line when Sara tackled her from behind. The two of them fell to the ground in a heap.
“You just don’t quit, do you?” Sara was breathing hard.
Abby said nothing.
The others surrounded them within seconds. They yanked her to her feet and dragged her back. A very large man held her arms like his hands were grappling hooks, digging his fingers into her skin. She winced from the pain and struggled to keep her feet under her. She thrashed back and forth, trying to free herself from his vice-like grip. When her right arm came loose, Sara grabbed a fistful of her hair, close to her scalp, and made a tight fist. Abby screamed and stopped struggling as Sara dragged her by her hair back to the camp.
One of the women was checking on the man who had been enjoying himself until Abby put an end his fun. He was still in a great deal of pain. He had stopped vomiting but looked as though he might start again at any moment. He sat, holding his crotch, rocking back and forth like a child. Blood trickled from the wound on his cheek.
Sara threw Abby down to the ground. “She’s the tough one,” she said. “Like I was telling you, the guy, Eric, he basically just follows her around. She’s definitely the one in charge.”
Abby looked up. “One in charge?”
Tom laughed, smiling through his beard. “You can drop the act. We know why you’re here.”
Abby looked confused.
“Oh, don’t play dumb,” he said. “I know w
ho sent you. You are good; I’ll give you that. But, I’m not going down without a fight.”
Abby just shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Sara spoke up. “Let me go back to their camp and take care of Eric.” She looked at Abby and smiled. “I know he won’t be a problem without you around.”
“Take care of him?” Abby asked.
“Kill him,” Tom said definitively. “Then, you, once he’s out of the way. I figure we’ll hold onto you for now. Just in case.”
“Why the hell...” Abby was dumbfounded. “We don’t want anything to do with you people. We are trying to get out of here!”
Tom looked smug. “Of course, you are—now that you know it’s not going to be so easy to take us out. Listen, we know this island; we know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to happen.”
Sara locked eyes with Abby. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it quick. He won’t suffer.”
Abby struggled against her binds, but the others held her down.
Sara laughed. “You know, I almost feel a little bad. You never got to tell him how you feel, did you? And now, he’s back there, all alone, wondering where you went. That poor, handsome man. All alone.” She ran a finger down the center of Abby’s chest. “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll comfort him. Hell, I’ll even screw him. Right before I kill him.”
“Bitch!” Abby yelled. “What is wrong with you people? Just leave us alone!”
She thrashed against her binds, knocking over the woman who was holding her. The man gripping Abby from the other side held tighter. Tom pushed Sara out of the way and backhanded Abby with such force that her world spun around.
She shook her head. When her eyes came back into focus, she was looking into the trees behind Tom. She saw something—or someone. Her eyes went in and out of focus, and she wondered how much more head trauma she could withstand and still see straight. She decided that headbutting the man in the crotch had been a poorly thought-out plan. She concentrated hard, trying to focus her eyes. It looked like there was a man in the trees. She closed her eyes and purposefully slowed her breathing. When she opened them again, she could make out the clear outline of the man.
It was Eric. The firelight was flickering and reflecting back in his eyes. Taking another deep breath, she stopped struggling.
* * *
Eric was happy to find them—not that it was all that hard. They’d made more than enough noise on an otherwise quiet island. He saw Tom backhand Abby and nearly leapt from the cover of the trees then and there to charge him. He took two steps before it occurred to him that it was a bad idea. There were six of them against Abby and Eric. While he had learned that Abby was quite the little fighter, she was tied and beaten. If he rushed from the trees, he would undoubtedly find himself in the same predicament, and that would be of no use to anyone.
He crouched and waited. Abby was facing him, and he thought he saw her catch a glimpse of him for a second. Maybe she did, or maybe it was his imagination. He liked the idea that she saw him. He wanted her to know she was not alone. She was a tough one, but in her current situation, she was probably a little worried inside.
Most of the others had their backs to him. There was the redheaded woman standing next to Abby and facing him, but she was looking at Tom, not the trees. The three men looked tough. Eric was strong, but he knew better than to take on the whole group by himself. He settled in to wait. Eventually, they would split up or go to sleep, and that was when he would make his move.
Seeing Abby like this made him furious. It was obvious he had been right about Sara, but it was not time for gloating. He was disappointed. He felt as though he had failed to protect her. He chuckled a bit to himself. The thought that Abby was someone who needed protecting was funny, considering how well she handled herself. Even so, right now, she needed his help.
It turned out he didn’t have to wait all that long for the group to split up. Sara had been doing most of the talking for the last few minutes. He could not make out what she was saying, but she was very excited. They all seemed to have reached an agreement on something. Tom and Sara went off to the right, in the direction Eric had come from. A few minutes later, the man who had been sitting on the ground in pain stood up to stretch and walk around a bit before he and the other big guy headed off to the left through the trees and out of sight. That left two women watching Abby—the two they had already faced and beaten before.
It was time to make a move. Eric thought about rushing in to take care of the two women and free Abby, but he could not reconcile the thought of hurting a woman—even if they might deserve it. He also doubted he could do it quietly. There would be screaming; then, the men would come running back from wherever they were. He figured Tom and Sara were in all likelihood going off to look for him at the beach. He wondered if maybe he should follow them.
No, he decided to follow the two men first and see where they were going. If he could catch them by surprise and somehow incapacitate them, that would be best. Then, he could circle back and free Abby. If he couldn’t take care of the men first, he would have to come up with a new plan.
Eric quietly started off in the direction the men had gone a few moments ago. It was silent—until he stepped on a dead branch that sounded like a gunshot when it snapped. He froze and couldn’t help but look back toward Abby, who started yelling at one of the women. The other one, the redhead, stared into the trees, directly where Eric was standing, frozen in position. Does she see me?
She stood and looked toward the woods. The other woman was completely occupied with Abby. Eric swallowed and crouched low, making himself as small as he could. Taking a couple of steps toward the tree line, she stood, scanning the woods from a few feet beyond the fire. Her eyes stopped right on the spot where Eric crouched motionlessly. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and he blinked tightly to clear it from his eyes. The seconds felt like hours. She took another step toward the trees and stared for another moment. The other woman turned and shouted something at her, and the redhead turned around and walked back toward the fire.
Eric stayed motionless for another moment before continuing, being extra careful to watch exactly where he was stepping. He could hear what sounded like digging and decided to follow that. He figured it must be the two men—unless there were more people out there than he had originally thought. A few minutes later, he reached the edge of a very large, moonlit clearing in the trees, and he saw it was exactly what it sounded like—digging. The two men were digging holes side by side near the edge of the clearing. He watched for a few minutes, trying to figure out what they were doing.
The men stopped and argued a bit about the size of the holes. At least, that’s what Eric gathered from the few words he picked up. They waived their arms, and one emphatically stuck his shovel in the ground, then took the other man’s shovel and stuck it in the ground about six feet from the other one. He seemed to be saying, This is how big it should be. The other man seemed to agree, and they both started digging again. They worked quickly, and within five minutes, they had a shallow hole dug, about six feet long and maybe three feet wide. A grave.
Instantly, he knew whom the graves were for. From his back pocket, he pulled out a sharpened stick he had found in another, much larger hole in the ground while he had been searching for Abby. There had been about a half-dozen of them stuck into the side of the hole. It looked like someone had used them to climb out of there. At the time, he had figured it could be a weapon, if needed. Now, he was glad he had grabbed it. He wouldn’t fail to protect her this time. If he had anything to say about it, these two unsuspecting men were digging their own graves.
* * *
The group decided that two of them—Tom and Sara—would go back to the beach to find Eric tonight. Sara wanted to do it herself and nearly convinced them she could. Her plan was simple—seduce him and slice his throat in the throes of passion. She presented a convincing argument, but Tom insisted on going, in case anything went wron
g. He wanted to make sure there were no hiccups. He pointed out they would also have to bring Eric’s body back, and that was something Sara could not do herself. The other four were instructed to stay behind, watch Abby, and start digging the graves.
It was all she could do not to look into the woods, where she knew Eric was hiding. She wanted to see him. She wanted to communicate with him, but she didn’t want to give him away. After Tom and Sara left, the men went off through the trees, and a few minutes later, Abby heard a faint sound in the distance. Based on the conversation they’d had in front of her, she assumed it was digging. She could not see them, but she could hear them. They were within earshot, at least.
Abby was studying the faces of the two women who were watching her. The redhead was very pretty in the classic way that redheads usually are. She was not very tall, but was taller than Abby—which wasn’t an impressive accomplishment. Her fair skin was dotted with a few freckles, high on her cheeks, but not too many. Abby figured she was probably a few years older than her and had, like Sara, probably been there for quite awhile, judging by her too-thin appearance. Had she seen her in everyday life, she probably would have described her as “cute”.
The other woman, staring directly at Abby, was not so pleasant to look at. She was probably pretty once upon a time, but the last time they had met, Abby’s knife had taken care of that as it slashed across her face. She wore her black hair down over the left side of her face, trying to hide her injury—though it did a poor job.
They were both standing by the fire. Not close enough for Abby to make a move, but close enough to keep her from thinking she could. The redhead was keeping a low profile and not really looking at Abby. The knife in the hand of the closest woman was keeping Abby’s attention just fine. It was her knife.
Abby spoke to her. “What’s your name?”
“Fuck you.”
The redhead behind her sighed. “I’m Emily; she’s...”
Escape, the Complete Trilogy Page 8