In the Blink of An Eye by Jerry Baggett (ebook reader for surface pro TXT) 📕

Marino said, “You can’t even make coffee on that old stove. The pipe’s gone. It isn’t connected to the chimney on the roof. Bring in the girl. I want to make sure she’s still alive.”

Hans came in carrying the girl, out away from his body. “She crapped and pissed herself, boss. What we gone do about that smell?” She was badly bruised around her mouth. Her eyes fluttered. “She’s coming out of it. You said make sure damage wasn’t fatal until we were through with her. She won’t make sense for a while, but she’ll get over the drugs.”

“Strip her clothes off and use those long tethers to fasten her to the heavy table here in the kitchen. There has to be some old cooking pans and such somewhere around here. Find something like that and use it to catch rainwater. She can bathe herself while we’re gone.”

Hans straightened up with a huge wooden bowl, dragged out from the bottom of an old cabinet. “Bring in the drinking water and canned goods. We need to get into town to rent a normal looking car and cooking equipment before things close down.” Hans put the food and water on the table and hurried back to join Marino in the car. “By the time we get back, she’ll be happy to see us,” Marino said.

Chapter 31

Rain pounded the tin roof of the house. Maria thought she might be dreaming. She focused on the picture of a double-flip cliff in Hawaii that she had seen in a magazine. She felt fresh air, more of a light mist. She looked around. Rain blew in through the open door. She’d thrown up on the floor and wanted a drink of water. She stared at her hands, realized they were shackled together. The shackle looked long enough she could use her hands for necessities in the toilet. She had wet herself several times while asleep. She felt hopeless until she looked down and saw the rest of her clothing on the floor.

No! That smell. It’s me, and my clothes. What can I do? She saw the bowl of water. And a roll of paper towels. That must mean they aren’t going to kill me yet.

She wet a wad of towels and washed her face. Then she wiped down her body before sitting down in the huge wooden bowl. She stood up, shivering from the cold, moved her clothing around with her foot, then gingerly dropped them into the bowl of water.

She had heard everything the men said for the last half hour, until they left. Don’t give up, she told herself. Get yourself together and do something, now, or you’re never leaving this place. She examined the braided rawhide tether. She gaged the manacle to be about fifteen inches. The longer tether was about five feet long, clamped around a brace beneath the table. She needed a knife or a screw driver. A simple hose clamp held the leather clamped tight to a brace underneath the table. They would never have left me in this careless manner unless they were short on time, she thought, I can do this.

She lifted the restraint and bit down on the rawhide. After several minutes her jaw ached from biting down hard with little results. Her eyes settled on a drawer in the closest wall cabinet. She stretched her arm out. Two fingers curled around a small white knob on the drawer. It slid all the way out. She couldn’t believe her luck. Several rusty old kitchen knives lay scattered in the wide drawer. She ran her hand over two knives lying close together and pulled both out. She squatted down and cut the tether lose from the table. The hand manacle was made of light weight chain. I can live with that. Wash out the clothes and wring them dry, quickly, before they come back.

Maria dressed herself hurriedly in the damp clothing. She wondered where she was now, and how long she had been unconscious. Wherever she was couldn’t be much worse than what she’d been through the last week or more. She’d lost track of time, not sure of anything anymore. How long had it been since she was taken from her car? Mr. Marino had warned her not to get out of line. Why hadn’t she listened? Hans had slapped her around, before using her body repeatedly. She thought of her little boy and cried silently.

A glass fruit jar with something inside caught her eye; old fashioned kitchen matches sealed inside the jar. She would need them. She put one small knife in the back pocket of her shorts and headed for the food and water. A case of sixteen-ounce water bottles. She pulled out two, and moved on to the three grocery bags. She set aside a jar of peanut butter, found several cans of baked beans and pulled out one can. What do I do now? She emptied a larger plastic bag, except for two cans of sardines and a box of saltine crackers found inside. She gathered the rest of her selection, grabbed the jar of matches and walked outside. Can’t strand myself out in the rain. She backed inside the door and looked around outside some more. She needed a place to hold up out of the weather long enough to get her bearings. A barn or some kind of building was barely visible through the trees. She prayed silently and ran through the rain and weeds toward the structure in the distance. She stopped and looked back at the house from her position in the brush. She could see what she thought might be a road into the area. My way out.

The barn was old and not fully restored or maintained. Part of the roof was gone. She was afraid to enter more than a few yards out of the rain. She