I climbed back onto the bed and stretched my feet out carefully, feeling around with my toes, praying that I didn’t kick the bottle. When I felt my toes graze the cool glass, I pressed my feet against the sides of the bottle, cradling it in my arches. Slowly, slowly. I lifted with my feet, curled my legs into my chest, and turned my body to the left, dropping the bottle down onto the mattress. Beer spilled out, soaking my foot with cold liquid. I wished I could drink it.
I used my feet to push the blanket up around the bottle so it couldn’t roll anywhere, then got off the bed. Now we had to put it back into place—which seemed to take twice as long but I’d lost all sense of time. All I knew was I had to get the bottle and break it before Gavin came home. I crawled across the mattress. I could sense Crystal’s presence at the other end of the bed. There was still a small bit of light coming in through the boards, but it wasn’t helping much.
I tucked the bottle under my chin, sank to my knees, and lowered my head down, carefully standing the bottle on the floor. How was I going to break it? I sat on the floor, curved my feet around it, then smashed down, but it wouldn’t break. I thought for a moment. Maybe if I smashed the bedpost down on it.
I stood up, used my foot to move it near the bedpost, and held it in place. Then I squatted, lifted the bed with the back of my hands, and used my foot to slowly push the bottle under the post. Still holding the bottle in place with my foot, I slammed the post down on it with all my strength. It didn’t break. I tried three more times, my triceps and quads shaking from exertion. I couldn’t give up.
On my fourth try I heard the bottle break and wanted to cry with relief. I felt around with my feet, nudged some bigger pieces, and squatted down to pick one up, using the back of my T-shirt to protect my hands. It was hard to cut the tape behind my back—I had to curl my hand around in an awkward position, blindly sawing at the bindings. I poked myself a few times and had to take it slower. I was terrified Gavin might come home any minute.
Finally I felt the glass cut through and I was able to pull my wrists apart, though tape was still stuck to them. I shook my hands out, rotated my arms, then undid the gag at the back of my neck.
“I did it!” I said. “Hold on. I’m coming.”
Crystal’s eyes were excited, but she glanced toward the door. I needed to get her free, fast.
I tried to undo the rope around my neck but it was tied in some sort of lasso and I couldn’t figure out the knot. I walked to the end of the bed, sweeping my feet around so I didn’t cut them on glass. I managed to untie the rope from around the bedpost, but it wasn’t easy—my arms and wrists were sore, the tape still stuck around them, and my fingers fumbled with the knots. Come on, come on. I got the last piece of rope undone, and I was free.
I ran over to the light and switched it on.
Crystal shielded her face with her knees. I raced back to her and undid her gag, pushing it down around her neck.
“Skylar!” she said, her voice so dry and raspy it made my own throat hurt. “You shouldn’t have come here.” She started crying.
“I had to find you.” I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tight. “I’m so sorry I screwed up and got caught.”
“You have to get out,” she said, still crying. “He’ll come back.”
“I’m not leaving you.” I sawed at the tape with my chunk of glass. She brought her hands forward, her face twisting as she moved her shoulders. She touched my face, my hair. Her eyes searched mine.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. What about you?” I grabbed her hand, inhaled sharply when I saw her wrists. The skin looked red and raw, maybe infected.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I don’t even feel it anymore.” I knew she was trying to reassure me but I just felt more scared. I had to get us out of there.
“I’ll untie your rope from the bed.” But when I tried, the knot was too tight. “I can’t do it,” I said, panicking.
“We’ll have to cut it,” Crystal said.
I grabbed two big pieces of glass and handed her one, then started sawing, but it was thick rope and slow going. Crystal was also struggling. She had to use the corner of the blanket to protect her hand and she kept dropping the glass.
“My arms and hands are too weak,” she said, stopping to rest. “Go. Get help.”
I tried the door handle but the door wouldn’t open. I slammed my body against it a few times. “It won’t budge!”
I ran to the window, tried to pry off a board. “They’re hammered on.”
“He could come back any minute,” Crystal said. “We won’t be able to hear him over the music. You have to hide the broken glass, make it look like you’re still tied up, and when he goes to sleep tonight, we’ll work on my rope.”
“But what if he rapes us?” I couldn’t breathe for a second after I said it.
“I’ll make him angry at me. It’s not hard.” She gave a bitter smile.
“Maybe I should try to ambush him when he comes in,” I said. “I’ll wrap the rope around his neck and strangle him from behind.”
“He’s too strong, Skylar. We both need to be free—our only hope is two against one. We just have to wait for our chance and get him before Brian’s here.”