She exhaled. First things first... Driver.
She looked over to her door which stood ajar. He'd left it unlocked and open for some unknown reason. Probably a mind game. She wouldn't put it past him. Or any of them.
She listened out for him in the adjoining room. She was pretty sure he hadn't left. She'd heard the silky hiss of his bedsheets and the bed frame creak about half an hour after she'd hit the hay herself. He was lying in his bed, she was sure of it.
If he was a heavy sleeper- which she wasn't counting on- she could sneak right past him. If the door to his room wasn't locked -doubtful- or shut at least -very unlikely- she could sneak out and grab her bag before leaving. It was on the floor by the end of the bed last time she'd checked.
That's a lot of 'if's', said the sceptical part of her brain. She blew out air from her cheeks and frowned, thinking.
What about guards? she wondered as she planned her escape.
She played a scenario in her mind, something out of a prison break scene from a film she'd seen -she'd forgotten the name- and saw herself bent forward, stealthily skimming across a barbed wired fence. Guards perched on towers with rifles, scanning the area in the darkness. Then the blaring beam from the spotlight catches her in its sight and the guard aims, fires.
The breath in her throat got stuck. She exhaled, trying to force the fear out along with it.
She wondered if, because Driver had left her door open, maybe he'd told whoever guarded this hellhole to ease off on security? At least as far as she was concerned. Or maybe he wants you to think that, which is why he left the door open in the first place. He's egging you on. He looks the twisted type. Hasn't proved you wrong so far. She smiled darkly. It stopped her from crying again.
She fixed her hard eyes on the wall. She didn't know how many people were around, what their security system was like. Apart from their... she glanced up at the far end corner of the room, on the wall by the door... cameras.
She'd spotted it that morning. It was a very well concealed lens the size of a two-pound coin, built into the stone. The frame around the lens was the same colour as the stone. It wasn't impossible to find, but with all the bumps and curves and pot holes in the stone walls it wasn't noticeable either. Not unless you were really looking.
Not unless you'd been locked in there for several days.
And knew you were being watched. By a bunch of sick freaks. She made a face; her top lip peaking upwards to one side to expose her bared teeth.
A thought then came to her. How will you know where to go if you don't know the layout?
That's true, she considered. But I just need to make it into the woods. They were all around the road at the entrance. If I get to them I'll get to a road. I'll find someone eventually.
Barefoot? She glanced down at her feet.
She'd removed the bandages before getting into the shower. The nail beds all around each toenail were red and swollen. The nails hadn't fallen off from being cut away, they were clinging on, underneath the cuticles. They looked strange too- besides the obvious. They were thicker, harder looking- that was the only way she could describe them. They had also grown a lot since she'd last looked at them. But they hadn't grown in a smooth slightly curved line like they usually do; they had grown into a blunt point. Almost like a...claw, she thought with revulsion. Terror crawled up her back and she shivered.
The red nail polish she'd applied the day before leaving home was now chipped and scratched into a blotchy mess. She stared at them uncertainly.
Barefoot? she thought again. If I have to, she answered herself firmly, resolutely.
She eyed the camera cautiously, wondering how long it would take for someone to alert the guards, or Driver? Maybe he was her only guard?
He was bad enough.
She tiptoed over to the partially open door and peeked inside his room. She squinted in the murky light; the moon beams distorted as they shot through the thick, bubbled glass, casting a faded line of light on the end of the bed and across the dark brown animal hide that was sprawled out on the beige, stone floor.
Her handbag was lying exactly where she'd left it. Just by the end of his bed, near the right wooden leg.
She looked up at the body in the bed. She could make out his torso, concealed under the silk, brown sheets as it bobbed up and down with each breath. The bloke sure likes brown, she thought randomly.
His breathing was deep and slow, though he wasn't snoring. Maybe he did snore, which meant he was still awake, waiting. The idea unnerved her.