by Paul Byers
“What do you want?” The guard said in a gruff voice.
“It’s very cold in here. May I please have a blanket?” Pike stood there with his arm at his side trying to look as docile as he could. The man stared at him for a moment then just turned around and shut the door without saying a word.
That went well Pike thought to himself, the guard saw just what he expected to see. He had to work fast now before the guard came back. Pike quickly unburied the ladder then moved the canvas coverings on both sides of the room out six-inches out from the wall and re-hung them from the ceiling. He quickly put everything back exactly the way it was originally, then sat down on the chair and waited. Phase two was done.
Pike had waited thirty minutes when he heard the lock rattle. He sprang to his feet and stood exactly where he was when he had asked for the blanket. With slightly less caution than he had before, the guard opened the door, saw Pike standing there and threw him the blanket.
“Thank you.” Pike said. Just as the guard started to leave, Pike spoke again. “Would you please tell Mr. Cain that I would like my last meal. Being a civilized man I’m sure he will understand. I would like a Porterhouse steak, bone in please. It gives it extra flavor, I think. A whole lobster tail, baked potato with the works, tossed salad and a mug of root beer. Thank you. Again, the guard failed to say anything when he left.
As soon as the door shut, Pike grabbed the ladder and repeated his routine by moving the canvas walls again, but out another six inches. After he finished, he returned everything to its exact location then sat down in his chair and waited. Forty-five minutes later, Pike’s head was nodding as he fell in and out of sleep when he heard the keys turning in the lock. Instantly he was awake as he jumped to his feet and stood again, only five inches further to his right this time. With his heart pounding in anticipation, he watched as the guard opened the door and shoved a tray in, then left. Pike let out a huge sigh of relief as once again the guard paid no attention to his surroundings and hadn’t noticed the walls.
He picked up the tray and returned to his seat. Even though getting the food brought in was just part of his plan, it didn’t mean he was going to let it go to waste. As he ate, he reviewed his plan. Like Maskelyne, his plan depended on deception. First he gave the guard exactly what he expected to see, a beaten and broken man and an empty room. And each time the guard entered, the room looked just the same as it had the visit before. What he had failed to notice was that the room was now smaller. He had created a false wall that he could now hide behind and leap out and surprise the guard, which brought him to another point: could he kill the guard if he had to?
That was a question that had no easy answer. Could he kill another human being so that he could live? He knew without hesitation that if someone broke into his house and threatened his family, that person was gone. Was this the same type of situation? His mind wandered to K.D. and the way she looked laying on the bed. She had no part in this; she was just an innocent bystander. Suddenly, the emotions of seeing her like that and the feelings of his own loss overwhelmed him.
But instead of breaking down and crying which he knew he’d do later, he let the emotions strengthen him. The feelings of loss turned to anger, then resolve. If Cain were successful with his plan, then the emotions he was feeling right now would be multiplied ten thousand times over. He could live with his own personal loss and grief, but what he could not live with would be that thousands of other people would feel exactly like he did now because he failed to act. He would not allow his own indecision to affect others.
He knew it wouldn’t be easy but at least now he knew he could try. Downing the last swallow of his root beer, he set the tray down and grabbed the hammer then shoved both screwdrivers into his back pocket. Time for phase three, all or nothing.
Pike set up the ladder where he usually stood, draped the blanket around it then put his parka over the top of that. A cursory glance by the guard and he would see what he expected to see, a man in a parka standing where he always stood. Next he set the food tray on the floor by the door and piled the dishes into a precarious pyramid.
Pike stood by the door and played the scene out in his mind. The irritated guard would carelessly open the door to see what he wanted. As the door opened, it would hit the tray of dishes and send them crashing to the floor. He would look down to see what happened and would probably become angry, narrowing his senses. He would look up at what he thought was Pike, start to look back down at the mess on the floor but then his mind would react to what he saw and he would do a double take. All the distractions and similarities would last only for a second, but that’s all the time he would need to spring from behind his false tarp wall and attack the guard. What could possibly go wrong?
Pike stood in the middle of the room, surveying his vulnerable house of cards. To say he was nervous would be the understatement of the century. His stomach was twisting and turning like a tilt-a-whirl and he could pick enough cotton out of his dry mouth to knit a sweater. Everything was in place.
With his arms feeling like lead, he raised his fist and pounded on the door and called out to the guard then quickly slid behind the tarp. He peered out between the crack where the wall and canvas met and waited for what seemed like an eternity. As the seconds fell away, Pike felt his resolve slipping away as well as he began to hear the whispers of self-doubt. Who do you think you’re fooling? Do you really think you can pull this off? Do you really think that you’re the Blast from the Past, Hot Shot?
Hot Shot.
Suddenly a collage of memories and images flashed through his mind. Images of his family, growing up, but mostly images of K.D. There were no monumental or life changing moments, mostly just everyday things. That’s when he realized that while life does have its big moments, it’s usually not those big events we think of but rather the day to day moments that we remember and that really shape our lives.
Pike tightened his grip on the hammer, feeling himself growing angry. He didn’t know if he and K.D. would ever have been and item. Who knows, they may have broken up when he found out that she left the lid off the toothpaste or she might have left after he left the toilet seat up one too many times. He was angry because now he would never get the chance to find out.
Suddenly the lock clicked. Pike’s heart was pounding so hard now he was getting a headache. Peering through the edge of the canvas, he saw the door swing open and the guard walk in. He wanted to leap out and attack, to get this over with but he knew he had to wait, he had to be patient or else everything would be lost. The door hit the tray and the dishes went clattering on the floor. Just as he had hoped, the guard stopped and looked down, muttered something, then glanced up to where Pike was supposed to be.
His timing was perfect, just as the guard’s eyes were registering that something wasn’t right and his head was turned, Pike attacked. He raised up Thor’s mighty hammer ready to vanquish his foe, but when he brought it down, the hammer got tangled in the canvas.
The guard spun around, surprise filling his eyes, until he saw the hammer stuck in the canvas. Pike managed to bring the hammer down, but by then it was too late.
The guard easily brought up his right forearm to block the blow then jabbed Pike in the ribs with his left fist. Pike doubled over from the blow and dropped the hammer. His jailer rushed forward, grabbing Pike by the neck and pinned him against the wall.
Pike remembered hearing about people getting super-human strength in times of crisis, like lifting a car off a trapped loved one after an accident, but the strength of Samson was failing him here. Gasping for air, he struggled to break the vise-grip that the guard had on his throat but couldn’t get free. Instead, he felt himself growing dizzy and his vision was beginning to fade. He knew he was dying and couldn’t do a thing about it.
Suddenly he could breathe again. Then he felt himself floating. Was he dead? Was he winging his way to heaven? His question was answered as he slammed down hard onto the floor of his cell.
The guard roared with laughter after having thrown Pike across the room.
“Nice try,” the big man said as he walked over and stared down at Pike. “It’s lucky Mr. Cain has other plans for you.” He added, then viscously kicked Pike in the stomach and laughed again. He examined Pike’s redecorating, then tore all the canvas from the walls and dragged it outside. When he finished, he walked back to where Pike was lying on the floor and went to kick him again, only this time Pike caught the boot in his hands before it smashed into his ribs. The guard stared hard at Pike for a moment, laughed again, then turned and walked out the door. Pike felt more beat up than a Seahawk’s lineman. With great effort, he pulled himself onto the chair and just sat there, resting. It hurt to move but he knew if he sat there too long, his muscles would stiffen up and the pain would be even worse, but for now, it was a chance he was willing to take.
Plan A had failed, but where there’s a plan A, there’s always a plan B; he just hadn’t thought of it yet. He squirmed in his chair trying to get comfortable, to find a position that didn’t hurt, but there was none. With great effort, he struggled to his feet then bent down and picked up his parka. With even greater effort he put it on. By the end of his ordeal, he wasn’t sure if the pain was worth the warmth.
Semi-reluctantly, he started shuffling back and forth, not only to help him think but to keep his sore muscles from stiffening up. Looking around, he was happy to see that in his fury and feeling of self-confidence the guard had ignored the other items in the room, taking only the tarps, his hammer, and screwdrivers.
He paced back and forth, staring at the corkboard insulation on the walls and floor, racking his brain for an idea. He knew that the next time the guard came in he would be wary, expecting something to be up. He looked up again and saw that a small section of the corkboard had peeled away when the guard ripped down the tarp.
Pike began to pace faster now; an idea beginning to form. The guard would be suspicious now and he could use that. He nodded now, his brain moving at full speed even if his body wasn’t. This could work, it had to work. The only question now was did he have the time?
Pike worked as fast as his broken body would go and after nearly an hour and a half, he was finally done. He collapsed in the chair, he was going to relax for a few minutes before he called the guard back but suddenly he heard the key in the lock.
Panic washed over him as he looked around the room. Was he ready? Did he have everything in place? He wanted to scream, I’M NOT READY YET! But instead, he sat silently in the chair and put on his winning poker face.
The door flung open but instead of a rushing guard filling the doorway, it was empty. Pike fought the urge to yell hello and just sat quietly. A moment later the guard appeared.
“Can’t be too carful now can we? I told Mr. Cain about your little trick and he told me to keep an eye on you, that you’re a real crafty one,” he said, wearing a devilish grin. “Like they say, fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. And no one makes a fool out of me.” The devilish grin turned into a hateful leer.
“Come on Hot Shot,” he smirked, “Ms. Mallory said you liked to be called that.”
Pike want to jump up and rip the smugness off the man’s face, no, pound it off, but nothing would be served if he didn’t stick to his plan. He was the one in control here, not the guard. Refusing to take the bait, Pike remained silent and still.
Seeing no reaction from his jab, the guard walked in. He was eight feet away from Pike when he suddenly stopped. “What’s this?” he said and he bent down, still keeping a watchful eye on his prisoner. He was looking at a thin wire running three inches above the floor. Examining it, he traced one end wire that was attached to the left wall and the other end was wrapped around the leg of the ladder that was leaning against the right wall.
“What were you planning on doing, crushing me to death under the weight of a stepladder? Guess you’re not as clever as Mr. Cain gave you credit for,” he laughed.
Pike remained impassive in his chair, not showing any disappointment in his trap being discovered. The guard just shook his head, unimpressed with his prisoner’s meager escape attempt. He carefully raised his right foot over the wire and was about to put it down when he suddenly stopped, a coy grin forming on his face.
He brought his foot back over the wire then knelt down and examined the floor. The corkboard on the walls came in four-foot wide rolls that were simply unrolled and attached to the wall like paneling. The floor covering however, was a little thicker and came in one-foot squares that were laid down like tile.
“Maybe you are a little brighter than I thought,” he said, standing back up. “But you should have taken more time to lay the squares back down the way they were after you dug them up.”
This time Pike couldn’t hide his disappointment.
“First you try to ambush me with a ladder and now you booby-trap the floor? What, did you manage to dig a hole in the ice and hope I’d step over the wire and break my ankle? What do you think I am, stupid, Mr. Hot Shot? Mr. Cain said I couldn’t kill you, but he didn’t say anything about not hurting you.”
Wearing a self-satisfying, triumphant grin, the guard stepped over the wire and over the suspect panels. His smile grew even bigger as his foot touched down on the other side on a solid floor. For effect, the guard puffed himself up to his full height, glaring down at Pike as he locked his fingers and cracked his knuckles. “This is going to be fun,” he said, with a humorless smile.
He took another step forward and suddenly the smugness on his face fell away, following the rest of his body. He cried out in pain as his right foot punched through the thin corkboard tile and his leg fell into a 15-inch deep hole Pike had dug out of the ice. As he fell, with one fluid motion Pike sprang out of the chair and released a kick that any Radio City Rockette would be proud of.
The guard’s head snapped back and Pike heard with great satisfaction a loud crack as his foot connected with its target. The force of the kick flipped the guard over, landing him on his stomach , facing the door. He groaned and struggled to prop himself up on one elbow but was quickly silenced as Pike grabbed the chair and hit him over the head with it, denting the chair.
Pike stood triumphantly over the guard like an ancient warrior over his vanquished foe. Pike’s chest heaved, adrenaline coursing through his body as he looked down at the guard. “And as a matter of fact, yes, I do think you’re stupid.” He said, then let out a muffled yell, then kicked the man in the side. He knew he shouldn’t have but it seemed like the thing to do at the time, his muscles protested at the kick, but it still felt good nonetheless. HOT SHOT!
He stood there for a minute, letting his pounding heart return to normal, letting his mind clear. Thinking more like himself now instead of Conan the Barbarian, he quickly laid out one of the plastic sheets on the ground, then dragged the guard over and wrapped him in it like he was making a burrito. When he was done, he grabbed the roll of duct tape out of the tool box, tightly wrapped the guard’s feet, put several strands around his shoulders securing his arms then wrapped one long piece around his head, covering the guard’s mouth.
He then dragged the guard over and placed him behind the ice holes, then replaced the cork tiles and reset his booby trap. Pike shrugged his shoulders; you never know, I might get lucky and get two birds with one stone, he thought.
Earlier, he had cut up one of the canvas tarps into long strips using a Stanley knife he’d found in the toolbox and had twisted the strips into a makeshift rope. He grabbed the ropes he had hidden under the plastic and threw the coils over his shoulders like a mountaineer and headed out the door.
He rounded the corner and going straight to the escape hatch, grabbed the sledgehammer off the wall. With swings worthy of the great Babe Ruth, he punched through the thin ice with just five strikes. Immediately he was hit with a blast of cold arctic air and a shiver ran down his spine. He hadn’t noticed just how much he’d been sweating until the cool air hit him. The sides
of the ship were still nearly six feet thick at this point of the hull, so he had to crawl through a short tunnel to get to the outside.
Pike popped his head out into the night air and looked around. He was about eight feet above the waterline, which meant he was about twenty feet below the main deck. A quarter-moon cast just enough light to see that the ocean was flat and the winds felt calm.
Looking forward, he could see the lights of the Rachel B. as she struggled ahead with her massive burden. But what really caught his attention was what was beyond the stout tug. He could see patches of light on the horizon, glowing faintly like embers from a dying campfire. They were the shimmering lights of the big cities on the eastern seaboard and the brightest beacon was New York. Time was running out.
Chapter Forty Six
With a new sense of urgency, Pike took stock of his situation. Looking around, he guessed he was just below the VIP living quarters. Right outside their door, the VIPs had a large outdoor commons where they could enjoy the fresh air and do a little sightseeing.
He ducked his head back inside, took the rope off his shoulder and tied it around the handle. His plan was to use the hammer as a grappling hook, catch it on the railing then pull himself up. He just hoped that no one was outside enjoying the scenery.
Lying on his back, he scooted out as far as he dared, looking up at the railing. Listening carefully he couldn’t hear any conversations coming from the deck above so he started swinging the rope like a lasso.
His first attempt went straight up in the air and came straight back down, nearly hitting him on the head. He wondered how the cowboys made this look so easy. Roy Rogers he wasn’t. The second throw was better, landing just shy of the bottom of the railing. The third attempt met with the same results but on his fourth toss, he heard a clank and the hammer didn’t fall back down.