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I don’t bother trying to remember. I grab the keys with my other hand, and then, after taking one breath filling my body with every drop of air in the room to give me the courage to step into the hallway, I push the door open.
I open it slowly, ensuring any creaks of the door remain silent.
Silence.
I step out, holding onto the door as it carefully closes.
Silence.
I look to the left and then right. Dante disappeared to the right. So my feet move left.
Slow at first. Careful, cautious. But after two steps, I can’t wait to get to freedom. I run or fly. I don’t know which. All I know is my body soars down the hallway and to the elevator. The doors open the second I press the button, and I step inside. My pulse fires through my body as my mind flutters with thoughts of everything that could go wrong.
I press the ground floor button and catch my breath while the elevator descends. I don’t know what is waiting for me when the doors open downstairs, but I hold the knife out, ready to attack.
The doors finally open, after what seems like years to my anxious body.
Nothing.
I don’t have time to revel in another win. My feet run again. Legs, which aren’t broken, compel my body forward, step after step. And even if my legs are broken, they work anyway.
I zero in on the door, only glancing to my left when I pass the final hallway before reaching the door.
Nothing. No one.
I don’t hesitate as I push the door open and step out into the sunlight. I want to lie flat on the concrete and let the sun heal me, but I’ll have to wait until I’m somewhere safer.
My feet keep moving quickly as I grab the door handle of the Maserati Dante drove me here in. I pull on the handle, but it doesn’t open.
I frown.
Dante has one of these keyless entries. The kind that you don’t have to press a button to enter the car. You only need to have the keys on you, and the doors unlock automatically.
I fidget with the keys, find the fob, and press the unlock button. Then, I grab the door handle again and pull.
It doesn’t budge.
Shit.
I press the button over and over, but nothing happens. I try inserting the key into the door, but it doesn’t fit.
These keys don’t belong to the Maserati.
I look around the parking lot, but there is only one other car. A Fiat. I press the unlock button again, but the car is silent as well. It doesn’t come to life.
Dante didn’t pull these keys out of his pocket. These keys belong to a different car or a different owner.
I throw the keys at Dante’s Maserati, watching as a tiny dent forms.
I smile a minuscule amount. The first smile I can recall in a month. A dent in his precious car is sure to enrage him.
My feet start flying again, as I move out of the parking lot to the road. I don’t see or hear cars coming in either direction. I have two choices. Run along the road and hope I run into someone who can help me, or disappear into the woods.
I chose a man last time to help me. It was a mistake. This time, I choose me. I choose the woods. I’ll disappear into the woods. Hopefully, Dante will think I chose the road. I’ll hide in the woods for a couple of days until I can find a way to get to a phone.
I run across the road and disappear into the woods. I glance behind me but don’t see anyone following me.
I’m free.
