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Stop it! It was a mouse. A furry rodent. It can’t hurt you.
It felt more like a rat.
Maybe he planned to let her starve to death down here. She remembered reading a book once, long ago, where someone had been held captive and ate rodents to survive. What was the title? She tried to remember, the focus helping her regain control.
There was movement to her right, in the corner, and she whipped her head around and stared at the blankets.
They moved again.
It wasn’t a rat or any other rodent. It was a much larger animal. And it moved, so it wasn’t dead.
She saw strands of light hair at the bottom of the pile. It was a person.
Heart racing, not knowing who was trapped in here with her, how injured the person was, she said, “Who are you?”
Her dry voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “Hello, who are you?”
The blankets didn’t move. The person didn’t speak.
“Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”
No answer. Dammit, Lucy could barely think about saving herself, let alone someone else!
“Please talk to me. We need to plan. My family will be looking for me. I need to know where we are. Find a way to get them a message.”
She thought she heard a whimper.
“You’re scared. I understand being scared.”
No response.
“My name is Lucy. What’s yours?” Silence. “Do you know who kidnapped us?”
Again, no answer. What had he done to the girl? The sadistic bastard! Anger swelled and balanced her fear. Good. She needed the anger, it would help her plan their escape.
“I guess I’m going to have to plan for both of us.”
Upstairs, the shower turned off with a rusty groan. The girl whimpered again and curled even tighter under the blankets.
Lucy noticed that the quality of light was changing. She looked around the basement. A thin sliver of light crept in from windows high off the ground. She stared, curious about why the windows were so narrow, then realized that snow blocked most of the glass.
Windows meant an escape route. If she could get out of this cage, she could break a window and climb out.
She glanced at the huddled girl in the corner. Lucy might be able to fight or run, but she couldn’t leave the girl behind. That meant being quiet, stealth, finding a way to get out of these cuffs and cage and to the window. Without making noise.
She searched her pockets, hoping for a bobby pin or key or something to pick the lock. They were empty.
The floors above creaked as their captor walked down the stairs from the second to the first floor. He was right above them, moving here and there. A faint scent of bacon frying drifted down through the vents, and Lucy’s stomach growled.
Would he feed them? Unlock the cage? She could fight, but not cuffed to the bars. If she could get them off she could use them as a weapon. She didn’t need much—just something hard and thin enough to wiggle into the lock. It was just a matter of feeling her way around the lock mechanism, a trick her brother Patrick had taught her.
Lucy wanted to see her family. She didn’t want them to lose her like this. She didn’t want to die. She would be twenty-five next month. She had so much to do! So many plans. A future.
But her career plans didn’t seem important right now. What mattered was her family. And Sean. And escaping.
The door at the top of the stairs opened. Light flooded the basement, nearly blinding Lucy. She averted her eyes. The girl in the corner didn’t move.
“W-who are you?” she stuttered, her fear evident in her tone as she demanded to know her kidnapper’s name. She swallowed and cleared her throat. Do not show him fear. She squinted, adjusting to the light, and watched the man descend the stairs. He didn’t look threatening. In fact, he looked rather plain and ordinary. Brown hair, brown eyes, Caucasian—maybe five seven or eight, though it was hard to gauge from her position on the floor.
