Page 11 of Mountain Struggle

Tess was so out of her depth, she had no idea what to do. The man was big and bulky, plus he had a gun. She had Jamie to think about. But she couldn’t walk inside that hut. Who knew what was waiting behind the door—inside, he could do anything to them.

“No,” she said, shivering in the cool evening air. “No.”

The man spoke in English to her then, his voice cold and toneless now, so different from the friendly stranger who’d asked her the time just hours earlier.

“Walk inside or I’ll shoot the boy, then tie you close to the window so you can watch what the wolves do to his body tonight.”

She’d felt Jamie sweet breath in the back of her neck. His little arms had tightened further around her and she knew he was crying silently against her jacket.

“Don’t hurt him,” she said. “I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t hurt him. Please.”

But the man had wanted nothing from her. She’d gotten a glimpse of a rustic living room area before they’d been shoved into a bedroom. The man tied her hands in front of her then left them there, locking the door behind them.

“I’m right outside,” he said. “Don’t try anything.”

“What’s this about? Please!”

“You’ll find out, eventually. Now lie down and get some sleep. Don’t give me a reason to come back here tonight.”

Tess was grateful there was a full moon outside the window. She knew otherwise they’d be sitting here in complete darkness, as there was no electricity in the cabin.

Tess was amazed at Jamie’s resilience. They’d both gone to the bathroom, and she’d made a cup with her hands so Jamie could drink from the tap, grateful that at least they wouldn’t be dying of thirst. She’d happened to have a handful of almonds in her jacket pocket, so she’d given those to the boy, who’d taken them quietly and uncomplaining.

She’d found an old, tattered blanket in a corner and wrapped it around her and Jamie.

“It’s going to be okay,” she told him. “I’m not going to let him hurt you.”

“My dad will find us,” Jamie had said, then proceeded to fall asleep, his little body curled against hers.

She’d sat there, her back to the wall, listening to Jamie’s soft breathing, as the temperature in the cabin got colder and colder. She pressed Jamie’s small body against hers in an attempt to keep him warm.

Once in a while, she heard the man pace in the living areas outside. He wasn’t sleeping either.

At four a.m. she’d heard the door slam. After that, there was complete silence in the cabin. Leaving Jamie asleep on the ground, covered by the blanket, she’d tiptoed to the door and listened for the longest time.

He’s gone.

He’s not here.

It wasn’t just that the noises from the other room had stopped. It was a sense of emptiness where earlier she’d felt the threat. Tess didn’t consider herself to be a very spiritual person, but something, some kind of instinct, told her it was time to run.

Get out of here now.

She looked out the window. It’d be easy for Jamie to get out—a bit of a squeeze for her, probably, but she could do it if she had to.

Now that she’d made up her mind, she didn’t want to wait another second. Who knew where the man had gone, and how long it would take him to get back. Neither she nor Jamie had been hurt so far, but that could change anytime. She thought of the man’s toneless, dead voice.

There was nothing in the room that would help her break the window, but she still had her house keys in her pocket. Tess took off her jacket, shivering in the cold night air, then grabbed the biggest key, the one that opened her little studio—she would not spare a thought for her cozy space and warm bed—and held it sharp-side out before wrapping the jacket around her hand and arm as tightly as possible.

Will this work?

You have to believe it will work.

Jamie is depending on you to figure a way out.

It was that final thought that gave her the courage to punch the glass with her covered hand.

She positioned the key so that it struck the glass first, but the force of the blow caused it to slip and it was her knuckles that ended up slamming against the glass. Jacket or no jacket, the pain was blinding.