Page 19 of Risk It All
Getting to her feet was out, she’d decided, and moving on her knees wasn’t working, so what were her other options? She rolled onto her hip and pulled her legs in front of her. Shuffling around so her back faced the window, she bent her knees and pushed herself back, scooching her butt along the floor. It was slow going, the rough floorboards catching on her pajama pants and threatening to pull them down. She wished desperately for polished wood that she would’ve slid smoothly over, but then caught herself before a semi-hysterical laugh escaped. If she was making wishes, she should do a better job—like wishing for a pocketknife and a cell phone or not being kidnapped in the first place.
She made slow, painful progress across the small room, using her bound hands as leverage to raise her hips slightly off the floor. Falling into the rhythm of the push-lift-back motion, she didn’t realize she was so close to the wall until her shoulders hit against it with athump. She felt the board behind her bow slightly under the impact, then heard a sharp crack as a piece of the rotted-looking window trim popped free of its moorings. She watched in helpless horror as the broken strip of wood toppled toward the floor. Without hands to catch it, she tried to twist underneath to muffle the sound, but the board bounced off her shoulder and landed with a painfully loud clatter several feet away.
She tensed as she heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor before heavy footsteps approached the door. All of Cara’s thoughts dissolved into white noise as she pressed her back against the wall, trying to disappear into the rough planks.
The door swung open, revealing the black-clad, ski-masked intruder who’d broken into her house, drugged her, and taken her to this scary cabin in the middle of nowhere. Fury sparked inside her, but her fear stayed dominant. She was tied up and weaponless, and she had no idea what this guy wanted from her. He had the upper hand by a mile, while both of hers were bound helplessly behind her back. Half-started plans swirled in her head, but she wasn’t able to hold onto a thought before another one shoved into its place.
Without a word, he moved toward her, and she braced, ready to fight however she could manage.
“What do you want?” she demanded—or tried to. Her voice came out in more of a pathetic croak.
Instead of answering, he pulled something out of his pocket. “You weren’t supposed to be awake yet.” His voice sounded wrong. It wasn’t the menacing growl of a kidnapper. It was a normal, pleasant tenor that could’ve belonged to one of her instructors at school or a newscaster giving a weather report. It threw her off, making her still for valuable seconds.
He bent down and reached for her, and she snapped out of her moment of surprise. Bending her legs, she kicked out, aiming for his knees. He dodged so only one of her feet glanced off his lower thigh, but it landed hard enough to make him grunt. She threw herself sideways away from him, rolling even as she knew it was hopeless. She was bound and still woozy from being drugged, while he was almost twice her size and almost assuredly armed. Still, she turned onto her back to try to kick him again, not willing to give up while she still had a chance to fight him off. He lunged, knocking her onto her side as the weight of his body kept her legs pinned. Flipping her onto her front, he held her down with terrifying ease. She felt the sharp prick of a needle entering her neck for the second time in who knew how many hours, and she swallowed a scream. Turning her head, she tried to bite the hand holding the syringe, but he pulled away just in time before casually backhanding her across the face.
Her head bumped against the floor as her cheek throbbed from the blow. She fought to keep struggling and stay conscious, but the darkness crept back in until everything went black.
* * *
It felt like just an instant later when she was blinking open blurry eyes, but her kidnapper wasn’t in the room anymore, and there was pale, pinkish light squeezing in around the window shade. She was still close to the window, slumped on the floor on her side. As she struggled into a sitting position, her head spun, and nausea rose. Squeezing her eyes closed, she focused on keeping the little that was in her stomach down where it belonged. After a few moments, things settled, and she reopened her eyes.
The reality of her situation hit her at the sight of the empty room, and she had to choke down bile again. Swallowing hard and tightening her jaw muscles, she forced herself to think productive thoughts. Except for the residual drugs in her system making her groggy and nauseated, she was unhurt. Her captor—the one she’d seen, at least—was masked, which meant that he wanted to hide his identity from her. He wouldn’t have bothered if he was planning on killing her.
Now that her stomach had settled, she scooted closer to the window and awkwardly rolled to her knees, trying to keep as quiet as possible. She couldn’t hear any sounds coming from beyond the wooden door, but that didn’t mean she was alone in the cabin. The last thing she wanted was for someone to hear and come knock her out again.
No, her brain corrected.The last thing you want is for someone to hear and come shoot you in the face.
With that cheery thought, Cara refocused on the window. The sill came to her chin, so she was just tall enough to see out once she used the side of her face to push the shade over. It rustled as she moved it, unsettled dust floating in the air, tickling her nose, and making her wish she had at least one hand free to rub her face. She shook her head slightly at the ridiculous thought. Of her current most urgent needs, scratching an itch was a pretty low priority.
The view outside the window focused her stray thoughts.No wonder they didn’t gag me.There was nothing out there except miles of sparse, sunburnt grass stretching farther than she could see. If it weren’t for the mountain peaks in the distance, she would’ve thought the cabin was on a prairie, rather than the high plains in the middle of the mountains. Although she’d only driven through Field County a couple of times, the rocky, flat openness seemed familiar, and she was almost certain that’s where she was.
Her brain worked as she smashed her cheek against the window, trying to see as much as possible from her awkward vantage point. No matter how hard she looked, though, there were just open high plains. She couldn’t see a driveway or even a two-track trail leading up to the site. It was as if aliens had dropped the cabin from the sky—with her in it.
Fear started nibbling around the edges of her mind, so she quickly smashed down her irrational thoughts.The driveway is on the other side of the cabin, she told herself firmly.I just can’t see it. In fact, there’s probably a road and other houses and an entire shopping mall on that side. I just have the room with a wilderness view.Even though she didn’t really believe her assurances, the possibility that she wasn’t in the middle of nowhere was enough for her to get a grip on her panic.
Knowing her sisters, Molly and Norah had most likely figured out who’d taken her and where they were keeping her in the first couple of hours. In fact, Molly probably had a plan in place—and eighteen backup plans—and she and Norah could very well be about to mount aSave Caramission at this very moment.
That thought both reassured Cara and terrified her. As much as she wanted to be rescued, she didn’t want her sisters to be in any danger.
So start rescuing yourself, dummy.Resolve filled her, erasing the last of the hopelessness the sight of her barren surroundings had caused. She’d get herself out of here and save her sisters. It was time for her to be the hero.
She pulled back slightly to examine the window and swallowed a curse. Shiny silver screw heads dotted both sides of the wood bracketing the glass, angled in a way that meant those screws had been driven right into the surrounding frame. Even if she managed to reach the lock at the top of the window, there was no way it would be opening unless she broke the glass, making a loud crash in the process. She set that idea aside for plan C or D.
Easing her head away from the window, she allowed the shade to fall back into place. It made a light smacking sound as it tapped against the frame, and Cara froze, straining her ears for any indication that someone in the other room had heard. There was only silence except for the wind whistling outside.
She moved carefully so that she was on her knees facing the door. By arching her back, she could just reach one of the bands holding her ankles together, and she wished desperately she had a knife or box cutter. Without some type of sharp-edged tool, she could only brush the hard plastic tie with her fingertips, and that did nothing to help.
Swallowing a sound of frustration, she sat on her heels and curled her shoulders forward, easing the ache in her spine. Her mind hopped from one escape plan to another, each more implausible than the last. She was bound and stuck in a room. It would take several minutes of trying for her to open the door even if it was unlocked—which she doubted.
Okay. What’s the first step?
The answer was clear enough:Get out of the zip ties.
She mentally flipped through possible ways to accomplish that. She wouldn’t be able to break them, there didn’t seem to be anything in the room that could be used as a cutting tool, and they were tight enough to block most of her circulation, so she doubted she could work them off over her hands or feet.
She abandoned a half-thought-out notion to convince her captors to untie her. If—when—they returned to her bare room, it was doubtful they’d be here to free her. It was much more likely that bad things would happen. The longer she could escape notice, the better.
A creak of wood came from the other room, making her tense and stare at the door. Her thoughts raced, along with her heart. Had she made a noise? Did they know she was awake? Would the masked man come in and drug her again—or worse? Her breathing sped up until her vision grew wavy around the edges, and she forced herself to calm.Focus on the next step, she repeated over and over in her mind until she’d managed to lock down her panic enough to function again.
