Bad Games

58



Patrick didn’t know what was going on downstairs. What he did know was that Arty had left the room, taking Caleb with him, and that his brother Jim had not taken his place for a while now. That left him and Carrie alone.

“Cawee,” Patrick garbled through his gag. “Cawee, helt Danny.”

Carrie stayed curled into a ball in the corner of the room.

“Cawee!”

The little girl twitched and finally looked at her father. She blinked several times before focusing in on his face.

“Cawee, helt Danny wit hi gag.”

Carrie stood to her feet but remained in the corner.

“Cawee, helt Danny wit hi gag!” He prayed she understood him.

She walked towards her father and touched his knee. Patrick smiled with his eyes and said, “Honey, helt Danny hake hi gag ott.”

She reached up to his face and pulled at Patrick’s gag. His daughter’s hand on his cheek brought on an instant stream of tears. Less than an hour ago he was sure he would never experience her touch again.

“Good, honey, good,” he said the second the gag was pulled down to his neck. “You need to do one more thing though, honey. Do you think you can do that? Can you do one more thing for Daddy?”

She nodded, her expression still projecting the glazed look of emptiness it previously held. This concerned Patrick, but wasn’t something he could afford to ruminate over now. At least his daughter was acting, and at this point in time, her ability to take action, despite a lifeless demeanor, was most vital.

“Good, honey. Daddy’s very proud of you so far.” He then spoke slow and concise. “Now, what I want you to do next, is to take one of the knives out from the wall behind Daddy. Can you do that? Can you take one of the knives out of the wall?”

She nodded.

“Good girl. Do it now then, sweetie.”

Carrie reached past her father’s shoulder and clamped her little hand around the handle on one of the knives sticking out of the dry wall. She tugged once, twice, and then a third before the knife squeaked free causing her to stumble backwards, nearly falling over.

“That’s my baby girl,” Patrick said. He could feel his stomach swirling with adrenaline, his brow beginning to dampen; he expected Arty or Jim to appear at the door at any moment and pounce on his daughter. The thought terrified him and brought a quick and desperate tone to his voice. “Carrie, you need to cut Daddy free as quickly as possible. Do you see how Daddy’s forearms are tied to the arms of the chair? All I need you to do is cut one of them free. I can do the rest once you cut one of them free. Can you do that? Can you cut one of Daddy’s arms free?”