Chapter 30

The wound on her arm, caused by the rope and her twisting was throbbing in a steady rhythm with her head but she managed to find the knots and untie her right wrist. Bending over to reach her ankles shot pain straight to her nervous system and made her dizzier than she already was. She had to stop and rest between efforts taking up precious time. Time she didn't know if they even had to begin with. She had to stop and control her breathing, stop and fight the nausea that kept threatening to overwhelm her, stop and fight the grief.

Michelle let her head rest on her knee, her arms covering her bruised face. She listened as Marley talked, chattered on and on. In her head, she was praying. For herself, for them to get out of here. And for Nick. It hurt so much to think that she had found a love with him unlike anything she'd ever felt before. And now he was gone before that love even had been given a chance to grow. Mourning him would take the rest of her life.

She silently talked to him, kept his image in her mind, his face impossibly dear, teasing her and making her laugh. She begged him to still be alive even though she knew that it was most likely hopeless. And she cried, quiet tears, her chest so full of pain she didn't know how she drew breath.

She reached back down and started on the knots again. They were stubborn and her fingers were sore and bleeding. But she was pig headed. And she wanted out of this room more than she wanted almost anything but Nick.

"Michelle, what are you doing?"

"Nothing, just resting." She didn't have room in her for conversation.

"You're making funny noises."

"I'm sorry." The words were said simply. She couldn't explain what she was doing. Marley would have to wait until she was free, then she could go to work on her bonds.

The knots slipped free and she nearly cried out in relief. One to go. It was taking too long, but if she could get free long enough to call out, get help. But where to tell them to go?

It didn't matter, as long as she called, she could be found.

She refused to give in to the pain when they were so close. She just needed a little more time. Then she could find that knife that M had been playing with and use that to free Marley. Think of being free. Think of getting to Nick. Maybe she could get back in time. She had to hurry.

After what seemed forever, the last knot pulled free. She stood, grabbing the back of the chair when she swayed dizzily. She was hurt worse than she thought. She felt her knees turn rubbery and her mind wanting to black out. She couldn't pass out, she just couldn't be this close and faint.

Don't think of it, think of fresh air. Think of the look on M's face when she snapped on the damn cuffs and nailed his ass for multiple counts of murder, torture, kidnapping, hell, she'd throw in some reckless endangerment also. Think of anything that will help you concentrate and not feel like you're walking on foam rubber.

She made it to the table, barely and had to put her head down. She spoke softly to Marley. "It's me, don't say anything."

After the first initial gasp of surprise, Marley was quiet, listening.

"I'm in worse shape than I thought. I can barely walk, concussion I think." She took some deep breaths, trying to stop from being sick. "We are going to have to help each other. I'm going to find that knife and cut you loose."

"But the door is locked from the outside. How are we going to get out?"

"There's a phone. We both heard it ring, so it has to be in here somewhere. We just have to find it. We call 911 and we're home free." Sick, oh so sick. She ran her hands down the table, picking up several splinters from the rough wood. Nothing. It made sense, even tied you wouldn't leave a weapon so close to a prisoner. He had a stand of some kind close to the table.

Michelle took two unsteady steps and bumped into something metal that had a distinct clink. She put her hand down and found the camera first. Then her hand brushed up against the handle of one of the knives.

"Success." She picked up the knife gingerly by the handle. Now would not be the time to pass out or trip. Mom always said, don't run with scissors. Don't carry knives when you have a concussion should be taught to kids too.

She made it back to the table but had to rest her head again, putting it on the table next to Marley. She could feel the heat of the girl's skin next to her face. The contact with another human being after what she had just been through was almost too much. But she pushed the pain away again. Later, when they were done with this. Later she could grieve. Later, as in the rest of her life later.