Shelter Page 52

“Oh, it matters.” Buddy Ray showed her the blade in his hand. “You talk tough now.” He leaned in close so that his mouth was right by her ear. I tensed up, preparing to run and try . . . I don’t know . . . anything, if he touched her. Instead he dropped his voice to a whisper. “But I promise you, Ashley—I swear on all that is holy—that when I unlock that chest, when I’m done with you, you’ll beg me to let you stay here and work for me.”

He started walking back toward the tool chest.

My mouth was too dry to swallow. It was now or never. His back was turned. I was about to sprint out, about to make a move, when the door behind me, the one I had just gone through, began to open. I leaped back up the stairs behind it, finding the only hiding spot in the room.

Someone entered. “Boss?”

I couldn’t see anything. The door was almost pressed against me. If whoever had opened the door pushed back a little more, he would hit me square in the face.

“What?” Buddy Ray snapped. “I’m busy.”

“We kinda got a situation.”

I could hear the ruckus behind him.

“Can’t Derrick handle it?”

“No one knows where he is.”

I heard Buddy Ray sigh. “I won’t be long, princess,” he said.

No reply from Ashley.

Now I could hear him sprinting up the stairs. I closed my eyes, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t see me. He didn’t. He ran through the door, slamming it shut behind him.

I was alone with Ashley, but I was not about to sit there and consider the options. It was pretty simple: free Ashley, get out of here. I had no idea how long Buddy Ray would be gone. It could be just a few seconds.

I ran down to the dungeon. Ashley turned her head and gasped when she saw me. “Mickey?”

“We have to get you out of here.”

“How did you find me?”

“No time for that now.”

Ashley started weeping. I rushed over to her chair, got down on one knee, and was ready to untie her. In the movies, this always seems to take mere seconds, doesn’t it? Like someone had tied up the person the same way you might tie a shoelace. But in real life, that wasn’t the case. It wasn’t the case at all.

Buddy Ray hadn’t tied her with rope. He had used plastic cuffs, wrapping them tightly around her wrists.

I had no idea what to do. I looked around the room for something to cut them with, but there was nothing.

“Mickey?”

“Hang on, I’m just trying to figure out how to free you.”

“You can’t,” she said, her voice defeated.

I didn’t listen to her. “Wriggle your hands,” I said. I tried to work the plastic with my fingers, pushing it down while she wriggled. There was absolutely no give.

“There’s no time,” she said. “You have to save yourself.”

“No,” I said.

“Mickey, he’ll be back any minute. Please go. He’ll just hurt me a little. He won’t want to damage the goods.”

I kept working at the plastic cuff. Useless. I ran over to his dreaded tool chest. I kicked the padlock, but it wouldn’t give. I looked for a crowbar—anything!—but the stark room was totally bare.

Damn!

I tried one more kick. There was no way the padlock was budging. I took out my cell phone. Enough. It was time to take the risk and dial 911.

“No!” Ashley shouted. “If he sees a cop car, he’ll just start killing people.”

It didn’t matter. I had no phone service in this cinder-block dungeon.

So now what?

Tick, tick, tick. How much longer would he be gone?

“Please, Mickey? Just listen to me, okay? There’s no time. You have to go. If he hurts you, if something happens to you, I’ll never be able to live with myself.”

I ran back over to her and took her face in my hands. Ashley looked at me with those beautiful, imploring eyes. “I won’t leave you,” I said to her. “Do you hear me? No matter. I won’t leave you with that monster.”

Tick, tick, tick.

Wait. The plastic cuff was too strong to break. The padlock was too strong to break.

But what about a wooden chair?

“Brace yourself,” I said.

“What?”

I kicked the leg of the chair. Nothing. I kicked it again. The leg started giving way. I kicked it again. The leg cracked. She was still trapped, but now maybe there was some wiggle room. If only we could move fast enough . . .

That was when I saw the door start to open.

Game over.

I knew what would happen now. Buddy Ray would see me. He would be armed with the knife. He would call behind him. Max and the other bouncers would join him as reinforcements.

We had no chance.

If you stopped and calculated the odds, there was no way to survive this.

So I didn’t stop or calculate. Instead I put my head down and charged the door.

I saw no other choice. I ran with as much speed as I could. I had never played American football, but Dad and I watched whenever we could figure out how to get a game on satellite. Dad loved the Jets, which, he said, taught him the meaning of disappointment. So right now, I channeled my inner linebacker blitzing the quarterback. I didn’t know if I would make it in time. I doubted I would. But I gave it everything I had.

Buddy Ray entered the room. He turned, saw me, and said, “What the . . . ?”

But that was all he said.

I crashed into him at full speed. I locked my arms around him, digging my head into his chest. We fell backward into the blue room. I raised my head a little, so now the top of my skull was under his chin. When we landed, my head pounded up into him. I could actually feel his teeth rattle and give way.

My head was still reeling from Derrick’s earlier attacks. Now the pain from my own blow was so great, I worried that I might pass out. But it had been worth it. Blood was leaking out of Buddy Ray’s mouth. The adrenaline helped push me through it. I made a fist and smashed into his mouth. The teeth that were already loosened gave way.

I pulled back for another punch, but I never got the chance to land it. Max, the bouncer who had been so close to me before, tackled me. He threw a knee into my rib cage. Flashes of light filled my head. It felt as though someone had just stabbed me in the lung. He reared back for another knee, the finisher, but suddenly I saw someone whack my attacker with what I later learned was the leg of a chair.

Ashley!

Max dropped off me as though he were a tree that had been chopped down. You almost wanted to shout, “Timber !” but there was no time. I rolled to my side and tried to get up, but my head was having none of it. I stood too quickly, the pain driving me back to my knees. Ashley tried to help me. I stumbled back.

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