Now I need to find an exit.
Deb raised her hands up over her head, feeling above her. She found a beam, and began to follow it along its length, crawling as silently as she could.
“Where you goin’, Debbie?”
Teddy was close. Very close. To her right. Deb paused, holding her breath, listening for movement.
She didn’t hear anything.
He’s either sitting still, moving toward me, or moving away from me.
So what’s my best option?
Keep going. Don’t wait for him to find me.
Deb softly blew out her breath, then continued her trek.
“I get it. Y’all wanna play a game.” Teddy had gotten even closer. Almost near enough to reach out and touch. “A little hide ‘n seek.”
She moved faster, feeling a sob well up in her chest.
I can’t cry. I need to stay quiet.
“I looooove games, girly girly.”
She froze.
Oh, sweet Jesus, he’s right in front of me.
“I know all sorts of games. ‘Cept I never played none of ‘em with a cripple before. You got no legs, just like me. I won’t even gotta tie you up to make babies.”
He got even nearer. She couldn’t see him, but she could sense his mass, feel his body heat.
Can he sense me as well?
“Maybe Momma will even let us get married. She’ll make us a big ol’ wedding cake.”
He’s so close.
Deb could actually feel his warm breath. It washed across her face like a foul summer wind blowing across a garbage dump. She tilted away, turning her head, crazy with fear that the floor would creak and he’d find her.
I can’t see him. That means he can’t see me. Stay calm.
“Will y’all marry me, Debbie girl?”
Teddy was close enough to kiss. He had to know she was there. Sweat rolled down Deb’s forehead, stinging her eyes. She closed them, willing, praying, for Teddy to go away.
“Teddy and Debbie, sittin’ in a tree. K...... I...... S...... S...... I...... N…...”
Deb lashed out before he could say G, making her hand into a claw and raking her hundred dollar manicure across his face. He screeched, and she scampered past him, crawling as fast as she could. She smacked her forehead into a joist, didn’t stop to assess the damage, and continued hurrying until she felt a cool breeze. Air flow potentially meant an exit. Deb paused, trying to sense its direction, and adjusted her course.
“The wedding is off, bitch!”
He was right behind her again. Deb plowed ahead, reaching a wall. She tried to go left, then right. Each way was blocked off.
Dead end. I’m dead. I...
Then her hand touched something solid and familiar.
A ladder rung. This is a ladder.
Ladders were Deb’s nemesis, and a large part of the reason she never tried to mountain climb again. If she couldn’t take ten vertical steps, how was she supposed to scale a sheer cliff face?
Previous ladder experiences—even with small step ladders—tended to end badly. And out of all her prosthetics, the Cheetah’s were the most ill-suited for ladders. The backwards curve meant she had to push her legs out behind her to take a step, which was awkward and threw off her balance.
“Gotcha!”
Teddy grabbed her around the thigh. His grip was iron, and his fingers palpated her quadriceps, stroking intimately.
Deb screamed, bringing her arm forward, then jamming her elbow back. It connected with his face.
Teddy grunted, releasing his grip. Deb kicked out backwards, felt her Cheetah bounce off of him. He knocked her prosthetic aside, so hard it almost came off.
He’s too fast. Too strong. There’s no place to escape.
I need to try the ladder.
Using only her upper body, Deb lifted herself up the first four steps. The darkness was absolute, and she had to work by feel. Grabbing a rung with both hands, she did a chin up. Then, holding it with one arm, she stretched up her other arm for the next rung.
Pull.
Reach.
Grab.
Pull.
Reach.
Grab.
Once she got the rhythm, she ascended quickly. And she no longer heard Teddy behind her. Maybe he—
He’s got my leg!
Deb pulled, her arms shaking, but she didn’t move an inch.
He’s going to drag me down. How long can I hold on for?
Deb hooked her elbow over the rung, waiting for him to tug.
Teddy didn’t tug.
Why isn’t he pulling?
Deb almost laughed hysterically when she figured it out.
It’s not Teddy. My Cheetah is caught on the rung.
The curve of the prosthetics acted like a hook, and it had apparently snagged onto the ladder. Deb lowered herself down a few inches, arched her back, and freed her leg.
But now her adrenalin had run out, and her arms were shaking from the strain. Going up any farther was impossible. She needed to get a foothold, rest for a moment, or else she’d lose her grip.
Deb prodded around with the tips of her Cheetah’s, trying to feel for a rung. Her leg found purchase. She tested it, easing herself down. It bore her weight. She stood there on one leg in the darkness, getting her strength back, straining to hear any sound of Teddy.
Where is he?
Maybe he can’t climb ladders. Maybe he isn’t strong enough.
Maybe he—
Deb almost fell when her foothold moved.
Oh, fuck.
I’m standing on him.
She scrambled to get a better grip on the rungs, and then began to ascend again, her tired muscles be damned. Fear gave her speed and strength, and after seven more rungs she reached up for the next and met with a ceiling.
A dead end?
Can’t be. Why have a ladder that takes you nowhere?
Holding on with one hand, her chin resting on the top rung, she pushed up with her free palm.
The ceiling moved, because it wasn’t a ceiling at all. It was another secret entrance.
Deb pushed it aside, then chinned-up into the open space. There was a thin strip of light at face-level, and Deb realized she was looking under a door. She hoisted herself up, pulling herself into this new room. Then she moved the board back and stood on top of it, her head brushing against something.
Coat hangers. I’m in a closet.
Then the door flew open, and Deb was hit in the face so hard it knocked her down.
# # #
Felix stared out the rear window of the police cruiser. A tow truck hauling a Corvette passed them going in the opposite direction. It was the only other vehicle he’d seen in the last thirty minutes.
“Where are you taking us?” Cam asked the Sheriff.
He’d asked that same question at least a dozen times. The Sheriff had yet to answer.
Felix wondered what was happening. Was this going to be some sort of backwoods justice? Take them deep into the woods and beat the shit out of them?
No. The Sheriff would have done it already. Why drive for this long? There were plenty of woods around here where no one would here the screams.