The Color of Sin
Chapter 12
“We’re going to drown! What are we going to do?” Valerie asked, her voice cracking with panic.
“Nothing,” I shouted over the sound of the diesels.
“You mean we’re going to die?” Bradley whined.
The cold water was now rising quickly. I twisted and rolled, using my arms and legs to move like clumsy hermit crab. I ignored the pain in my ribs and the sick panic that tried to take over the synapses in my brain.
When I got close enough to the others that I no longer had to shout over the sound of the idling engines, I said, “We have to wait until he leaves. Only then can we try to escape.”
“What is this all about?” Valerie demanded to know. “Why are we locked up in here?” She was panicky and kept looking at the rising water gushing from the engines.
“Yeah,” Bradley said. “I saw you two fighting and then you pulled out a gun. What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?”
“It’s a long story. Maybe I’ll tell it to you someday. But all you have to know is that Keith has raped one woman and almost killed another. Your friend Ella is in grave danger – she’s a captive. Now if we don’t work together, we’re all going to drown. Can anyone free themselves?”
Bradley and Thomas tried the bonds without any luck. The table had thick legs and the bolts holding it to the floor were big. It would take a hacksaw to cut through that metal. The situation for the women looked a little more promising, the metal piping was two inches thick and ran the length of the wall and in several spots disappeared into ceiling above. Perhaps with some concerted effort, a section could break free. It was the only thing worth trying unless I could somehow find something sharp enough to cut the ropes that bound me.
“He’s back!” Thomas breathed out, staring past me.
I craned my neck around and saw Keith. He was in the doorway. An odd expression – like that of a madman – played on that lined face. After a moment he laughed coldly and then shut the door with a clank.
The others began to cry out, pleading for him to come back. I hushed them, my ears straining to hear over the pounding of the pistons and the gurgling of the ever-increasing water. It was a minute later when I heard the faint sound of something heavy being moved overhead. A few seconds passed and then there was the brief sound of someone – probably Keith – yelling. After that there was nothing.
I was so intent listening that I nearly jumped when the cold water splashed against my groin. We had to get out of here now.
“Pull on those pipes,” I told Valerie and Sarah. “Give it everything you’ve got.”
“Okay, I’ll give it a try,” Sarah said, finally speaking. She looked more scared than the others, barely holding her fear in check.
“On the count of three!” Valerie said.
I was proud to see this inner strength coming out. Perhaps there was something positive to say about the younger generation.
“One! Two! Three!” they said in unison.
With a concerted effort, the two young women jerked against their bonds. The overhead pipe creaked and groaned but did not budge. After another weaker attempt they gave up.
“We’re going to die, aren’t we?” Valerie howled.
Sarah broke out into tears while the two boys looked dumbfounded, as if hoping to be woken from a terrible dream.
“Use your feet against the wall,” I suggested. “Push that way and you’ll get more leverage. Hurry!” By now the water was covering half of my body. In another minute I would be struggling to keep my head above gurgling water. It made me think of Eric Sanders and the way I had questioned him. Fate certainly worked in strange ways.
Using their feet braced against the wall, Valerie and Sarah pushed. The rope cut cruelly into their wrists, turning the skin red and raw. They grunted and groaned as the pipe squeaked in time with their movements. With one more gasp – and the fear of death that can bring out the most amazing determination – there was a wrenching noise of metal snapping a bent joint. The two of them broke free and fell next to me. Extra water began to gush out of the broken pipe.