Page 20 of Risk It All
Giving up on the idea of getting out of her zip ties for now, she focused on the next part of her plan.Get out of the cabin.Her backup plan, in case she was really and truly stuck in this wooden shack, was to find some way to communicate with her sisters—phone, radio, fireworks, or whatever she could manage.
Even though she wasn’t positive that being outside the cabin in the middle of the wilderness would be the safest thing, it felt good to have a solid goal. Besides, the most urgent danger was a masked man who kept shooting knockout drugs into her system. If she could escape her captors, she could deal with whatever the empty high plains could throw at her…probably.
Pushing away thoughts of bears and mountain lions, Cara shifted onto her hip and then into a seated position. One of the wooden floorboards creaked beneath her, and she froze in place, holding her breath. Her blood rushed through her ears too loudly to hear anyone coming, so she carefully maneuvered her body so that her back was to the door. Despite it making her feel incredibly vulnerable not to be able to see someone coming into the room, she knew it was the fastest way she could travel while bound the way she was. Drawing up her knees, she pressed her feet against the floor and scooted herself backward, ignoring the way the rough floorboards grabbed at her pajama pants. The rustle of her clothing and the occasional creak from the floor made her tense, but there was no way to prevent every sound unless she stayed perfectly still, and that would get her nowhere—literally.
She was horribly tempted to glance over her shoulder at the door, to try to catch a glimpse in case someone entered, but she forced herself to keep her gaze focused on the shade-covered window. It was getting brighter outside, and the sunlight peeking around the shade was shifting from pale pink to golden. She wondered how long she’d slept—if it had been almost twelve hours or actually longer than that. It was a creepy feeling that she’d been out so long, especially since she knew her kidnapper—or kidnappers—had been with her at least for part of the time. They could have done anything to her while she was drugged.
She shoved that thought away. Instead, she tried to focus on making each motion as quiet as possible as she made her way across the floor like a backward inchworm. It seemed to take endless time to cross the tiny room, but when she finally allowed herself a quick glance over her shoulder, she found that she was just a few feet from the door.
Scooting closer, she looked up at the small cast-iron knob. Not only did she have to figure out a way to open the door—provided it wasn’t locked—but then she’d have to venture out into the rest of the cabin, possibly confronting one or more of her captors. Her brain instantly created an image of a whole army of ski-mask-wearing, gun-toting bad guys, all waiting for her to try to get away. Suddenly, breaking the window and escaping that way seemed a lot more appealing.
Knock it off, she told herself firmly, banishing all thoughts of her probable bloody death. Resolutely, she pressed her shoulders against the wall, leaving space at her lower back so her hands didn’t get squashed. Bending her knees, she tucked her bound feet close and pushed up, using the wall for leverage. Her hoodie rubbed against the wood, making ashushingsound. Wincing, she tried to raise herself as slowly as possible, but the creak of the wood and rustle of fabric still sounded terrifyingly loud in her ears.
Her quadriceps burned as she inched higher, balancing on feet that were too close together. It reminded her of chair pose in yoga, and she almost let a frantic gasp of laughter escape before she bit back the sound.Who would’ve thought that yoga had practical, lifesaving applications?
Inch by inch, her shoulders crept up the wall as her thighs trembled from the effort of the painfully slow movement. In an effort to find her balance, she rocked a little on the soles of her feet, the small swaying motion adding to the difficulty of the maneuver.
If I get out of here alive, she silently promised herself,I will first kiss Felicity’s feet in thanks for pushing us every morning, even when we whined about it. Then, I will ask her to make us work even harder from now on.
The slight shake in her legs increased until her whole body trembled, and she told herself it was just muscle strain, not complete terror. With a final push, she straightened to standing, letting out her breath silently in a relievedwhoosh. There wasn’t time to waste, though, so she didn’t allow herself to rest. Shuffling sideways, she turned so the doorknob was at her back and in reach of her bound hands.
The plastic zip tie cut into her wrists as she closed her fingers around the cold metal knob. It turned silently in her grip, and her stomach jumped with hope and apprehension. It couldn’t be so easy, could it? What kind of kidnappers didn’t even lock the door?
Trying her best to not think of what might be on the other side waiting for her, Cara pushed at the door, but it didn’t budge.It must have a dead bolt on the other side.Of course it wasn’t actually unlocked. Her disappointment was cut with a thread of relief. As terrifying as it was to be locked in a strange room, at least she was alone and unhurt. A huge part of her didn’t want to go out into the rest of the cabin and face unknown dangers.
Before she released the knob, she pushed at it again, just in case the door was simply stuck, rather than locked. As she pressed, she glanced to the side. When she saw the black iron hinges, she blinked as realization struck. Immediately, she felt like a huge idiot.
The door opens in, dummy.
She mentally smacked herself for being stupid as she drew a deep, bracing breath and shuffled forward. Without the door or wall to help support her, it was hard to balance, and she wobbled with each tiny, mincing step. As tightly as her ankles were bound, she could barely push the toes of one foot ahead of the other, and it took much too long for her to inch along the rough floorboards.
The latch gave asnickas it released, and the door opened. As soon as it was clear of the jamb, she released the knob slowly, her fingers aching from the awkward angle. She started shuffling in a half circle, turning to face the door, all too aware that any sound would carry farther now.
As she inched closer to the door, her anxious impatience got the best of her. She shoved her foot forward too quickly, knocking herself off-balance. Her upper body swayed unsteadily, threatening to tip her over. Sucking in a panicked breath, she jerked on the zip tie around her wrists, automatically attempting to get her hands in front of her to catch her. The motion pitched her forward even more, bringing her face just inches from the door. She knew that if she fell against the door, it would slam closed, letting everyone in and around the cabin know that she was awake and attempting to escape.
Desperately, she clamped down her abs and steadied her swaying upper body, dragging her torso back in line with her bound feet. For a moment, she stood still except for the fine tremor making her muscles vibrate, her brain replaying the close call over and over.
I promise to ask Fifi to make us do more core work, too.
The thought of home and her sisters and her normal routine helped calm her enough to plan her next move. She needed to free her legs at the very least. From her view out the window, they were very likely in the middle of nowhere, and she couldn’t shuffle her way over miles of rough terrain. She needed to find a knife or some type of sharp edge she could use to cut the zip ties. The kitchen would be best, since that was normally where knives lived.
With renewed determination, she used her chin to nudge the door open a little more, just enough so that she could see out. As she peered through the crack, her stomach knotted, but she relaxed slightly when the army of imagined bad guys wasn’t there. All she could see was a rough wooden wall and the arm of a ratty-looking sofa. Her immediate relief disappeared, since she knew that the kidnapper—or kidnappers—could very well be in the part of the room she couldn’t see. Were they watching the door? Creeping closer toward her? The suspense was too much to handle, and she used her chin to open the door even more, the need to know overcoming her caution.
Using the frame to balance, she pushed far enough into the opening to see the entire room. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears as she looked wildly around, her muscles tensed and ready to fight, even as she knew that, bound as she was, there’d be little she could do to protect herself. At best, any struggle would end with her once again drugged and unconscious. At worst…
Now wasn’t time to think of theworst.
Tamping down the desire to hide, she forced herself to look around the room. The space was empty. All the air rushed out of her as relief made her head spin. She glanced over everything again, more calmly this time, making sure that she hadn’t overlooked anyone. The area was mostly living space, with a small kitchen lining one wall. The worn couch was the only furniture except for an equally battered wooden table with a couple of camp chairs pulled up to it. From her angle, Cara couldn’t see much except the glare of the morning sun out of the single window. There were two doors besides the one to her room. One was slightly ajar, revealing a bathroom, and the other appeared to be a front door. Her heartbeat sped up again at the sight, making the possibility of escape seem so real.
She shouldered open her door the rest of the way and started her agonizingly slow shuffle. Even though it would’ve been faster to sit and scoot backwards, she couldn’t bring herself to get down on the floor again. Despite her slow and wobbly progress, she felt infinitely less vulnerable on her feet.
She’d feel even better with a knife. Cara headed for the kitchen, even though the sparse furnishings made her worry that the drawers and cupboards would be empty. No matter. All she needed was one sharp edge.
A movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she whipped her head around just as a large form passed by the window. She froze and then tried to rush her steps, terrified that whoever was outside would be coming through the front door any second, catching her out of her room but still bound and helpless. But as soon as she hurried, as soon as she let the spike of fear overwhelm her, her body overbalanced, and she tumbled toward the floor.
Landing on her side with a heavy thud, Cara held her breath, not even noticing the dull throb of pain in her shoulder and hip. She stared at the front door, unable to move as she waited for it to open and let in her kidnapper. Even if he hadn’t heard her hard landing, there was no way he wouldn’t see her immediately now, sprawled across the floor as she was.
Another movement at the window broke her fixed, terrified gaze, and she looked over to see a man cross it again, moving away from the door this time. He’d shoved his ski mask up to his forehead and was holding a cell phone to his ear. As he passed, she stayed completely still, not daring to breathe until she couldn’t see him any longer.
