Page 52 of Prophet
Peeking out past the doorjamb, I saw a narrow hall with metal walls. I looked one way then the other. I just didn’t know which way to go. I knew they were all panicked about what the men were doing up top as that man had told Deacon, so maybe they would stay away long enough for me to get out?
I’d better do it now though, as my time might run out at any minute. I moved out to the hall and hurried down it toward the right. It had no doors. How odd. Then I saw a door and I stopped. I had to as I was already out of breath. I set my hand with the keys on the wall to steady myself. I fought fear again, I really was in no shape to do any of this, let alone slice men with a freaking scalpel and run away.
I glanced up at the door and saw it had a small square window. Rising up on my tiptoes, I looked in and gasped at what I saw.
An older man sat duct taped to a chair and his face looked black and blue. His lips were covered in dried blood. He had dark hair that was graying a bit, his head was tilted back a bit and his eyes closed.
Oh, my God! This is Prophet’s father!
I looked back and forth. No one coming. I sighed.How do I… The keys! Please let it be on this ring.My hands were shaking so badly I had trouble with any coordination as I tried a key and it didn’t fit. I tried another one then I heard it. Voices! With a gasp, I pushed the key in and it turned. I opened the door and eased it shut then I stepped to the side. My knees almost gave out on me and I was shaking from head to toe as I flattened myself against the wall as much as I could.
I now heard movement and voices. Closing my eyes, I tried hard not to make any noise. The voices stopped and I waited. Then nothing. Still, I didn’t move. I looked over at the man in the chair, he was staring at me. I gave him a tremulous smile as even my lips were trembling.
He stared at me with curiosity in his eyes. Eyes so like Prophet’s. He then glanced at the door window. “They’re gone,” he whispered.
I let my shoulders droop and the room seemed to move on me. “Oh…” I dropped down and collapsed onto the hard floor. My eyes closed on their own. I couldn't help it. I laid there as things went in and out again. I heard the sound of his voice but not his words. I felt so weak and so tired. I couldn’t seem to stop it.
When I opened my eyes again, I had no idea how long I’d been out.
“Miss?”
I gasped as I’d forgotten where I was. I slowly raised my head a bit to see the man in the chair.
Staring at me with concern in his gaze, he asked, “Are you all right?”
Prophet’s father. Oh… yes. I found him!I took a cleansing breath and tried to reply, “I don’t…” My voice was hoarse and my throat was completely dried up. “...know?”
“You look white as a ghost, missy,” he drawled.
His twang sounded so much like Prophet’s that I choked on a small sob.
“Shhh,” he whispered. “It’ll be okay.”
I swiped at my tears. I needed to stop crying. We were both still here trapped here. “Y-you sound so much like him,” I whispered back.
“Him?” he asked.
Nodding, I pushed myself up and then finally, I was at least, sitting upright. “Prophet.”
His expression changed as he took a deep breath and asked, “My son?”
Again, I nodded.
“Nah girl,” he said in a shaky sounding voice. “He did not trade you for me.” He growled.
I raised my head to look at him.
“My son wouldn’t ever do a thing like that.” His eyes turned hard and flinty.
Again, the look he had was just like his son’s when he got angry. I’d seen it more than once when we all tried to get Prophet to agree with the plan. “No, sir.” My eyes met that angry gaze. “He did not.”
He stared at me for a few seconds then he seemed to relax a bit. “Then why are you here?”
“There’s no time. How long was I out?” I slowly glanced around then looked behind me to see where I’d dropped my scalpel. Spotting it next to the base of the wall, I paused to take another breath. Leaning over, I grabbed the handle of it. I had to wait again as nausea assailed me.Oh gosh, don’t let me puke in front of his dad. Please?I realized it was silly but...I slowly shook my head.
“Just sit a bit,” he urged. “Or you'll pass out again,” he advised,
Closing my eyes, I waited until the nausea passed. “How long was I out?” I asked.
