Rescuing Melissa (ALPHA TEAM: Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists)

55. Chains

FIFTY-FIVE

Chains

MELISSA

The door squeaked closed, and the last Melissa heard of the men were locks snapping into place and the low rumble of their conversation.

She was trapped.

Panic set in, claustrophobia hemming her in from all sides. She was in a tomb of stone, rock, and timber supports. Desperate for air, she clawed at her throat.

No way out!

No way to get to the locks.

Exploring her injuries kept her mind from the oppressiveness of the earth overhead. And despite her fears, she could breathe. There had to be a ventilation shaft. A grab for the bedpost had her jerking in surprise. Her arms and legs were free. Had it been intentional? An oversight?

She reached for the collar latched around her throat and felt for the lock. It seemed a simple keyhole and not one of the combinations Pierce seemed so fond of using everywhere else.

Melissa blew out a calming breath. The action distracted her from the room, from the locked door, and from the overwhelming sense of being buried alive. No ventilation shaft, but there was ductwork plumbed into the ceiling. What kind of perverted mind thought all this up?

A man who left women inside cages that’s who.

Some wept, some slept, Gretel had yet to move. None spoke, and she wondered why, but then remembered Henrietta’s warning.

Her gaze traveled to the woman in the nearest cage. Henrietta rocked back and forth, her lips mumbling something Melissa couldn’t make out. She yearned to comfort her, as Henrietta had done for her, but a glance told her now was not the time.

The chain attached to the collar bound Melissa to the bedpost and limited her movement. Fortunately, Pierce had missed something. She pulled out a bobby pin from her hair. This wasn’t something she had ever tried before, and it would be much harder than it looked in the movies, but she had to try.

She felt at the keyhole of the lock. Inserting the bobby pin was easy. Now what? She felt around. Something was inside, a latch or mechanism, but she couldn’t get the bobby pin to grab it, push it, pull on it, or slide it to the side.

After several long minutes, what seemed like hours—she was afraid the men would be back any moment—tears of frustration streamed down her cheeks.

“What are you doing?” Henrietta whispered.

Melissa’s head shot up, surprised by the sudden noise in the eerie silence of the dungeon.

Henrietta had moved to the front of her cage. Her fingers clutched at the metal bars.

“I’m trying to get this off.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Henrietta’s eyes flicked to the dungeon door and back to Melissa.

“No. It seems so easy on TV.” With a shake of her head, Melissa dropped her hands from the frustrating task.

Henrietta smiled. “Television makes things seem easy, but there’s a trick to it.”

“You know how to pick a lock?” Melissa widened her eyes, first with surprise and then with interest.

The woman nodded. “My husband taught me, God rest his soul, he was into picking locks.”

“Do you think you could?” Hope bloomed in her chest.

Henrietta shrugged. “Why? When he comes back, he’ll only punish you, and me for helping, and then the others while I watch. It’s my job to watch over them.”

“Watch over them?”

She shook her head. “Yes, in this crazy world, I’m the Fairy Godmother.” She pointed to the other cages. “Everyone here is a princess for that demented jerk.”

She pointed to each of the women, saying their names. “He punished Gretel because of me. I don’t know if she’ll make it. It’s why he brought the nurse down. The others are Cinderella, Red Riding Hood, Sleeping Beauty, Goldilocks, and Belle.” She pointed to Belle’s cage, furthest from them both, and closest to the man. The woman was curled up on the floor, sleeping. “There’s something not right with Belle. She adores Prince Charming.”

“You mean Pierce Channing.”

“No, Prince Charming. That’s what we’re supposed to call him except you. You’re special. He was getting off when you called him King. Be very careful. You’re not the only one who will get hurt when he gets mad.” Henrietta’s entire body shuddered.

Melissa firmed her lips into a determined line. “I know you’ve been down here a while, and I don’t understand what he’s put you through, but I’m not ready to give up. Besides, someone’s looking for me.”

CJ wouldn’t stop until he found her. She believed that with every ounce of conviction she could muster.

“I’ll do whatever I can to make it as easy on him to rescue me.” Even if she had to save herself. Melissa had been tormented by Scott for six years; she wouldn’t become a victim to Pierce.

Henrietta coughed. “I’m glad you have hope. I tried…” Her gaze traveled to the wall. “He’s here because of me.”

“The man?”

“He’s a nurse. OurPrince,”Henrietta’s mouth twisted around the title with distaste, “yourKingbrought that man to take care of Gretel.”

“What happened to her?”

Henrietta explained the knives, and Melissa’s stomach twisted with the horrific images. It was all she could do not to get violently ill.

“So, you see,” Henrietta concluded, “I’m hesitant to do anything to make him mad. I don’t know what else he’s capable of, but now that other one is here.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m scared. I think none of us are getting out of this alive.”

Melissa wasn’t ready to believe that, even if she feared it might be true.

“Which is why you need to help me,” she insisted.

“No.”

With great difficulty and no small amount of pain due to the recent caning, Melissa moved to the foot of the bed. The chain moved with her, tracking over one of the crossbeams of the four-poster bed.

“I think I can reach you,” she said.

“I don’t know.” Henrietta worried her lower lip between her teeth.

“We have to try,” Melissa insisted.

She scooted off the bed and stepped to the corner of Henrietta’s cage. The chain tying her to the bed barely reached. Henrietta took the bobby pin from Melissa’s hand, and Melissa feared she would toss it to the ground for a moment. The woman’s hands shook, and her gaze kept cutting to the sleeping Belle.

“I haven’t done this in years.” A tremor of fear laced her voice, but she pulled open the bobby pin and fashioned it into a hook. “Lean close.”

Melissa moved as far forward as she could, finding the limits of the chain when her neck came a few inches from the bars of Henrietta’s cage. Henrietta reached through and grabbed hold of the collar in one hand. She inserted the bobby pin in the lock and fished around, poking and probing the inner mechanism.

Melissa kept her voice to a low whisper. “You warned me about Belle, but what about the others?”

“Oh, Belle is crazy. Don’t trust her. She wants to be down here, and I wouldn’t count on the others either. They’ve been here a long time from what little I can gather. He’s great at instilling fear and turning it into an impulse to please. Trust me, I know.” Henrietta’s fingers rattled, scraping the bobby pin against the metal of the collar.

“What about the man?”

Henrietta pursed her lips. “He’s a fighter. But, I’m afraid for him.”

Melissa sighed. “You said there’s no way out of here?”

“Only that door.”

“There has to be another way. A man like Pierce seems too obsessive to leave himself only one way out. Have you noticed any drafts?”

“Drafts?” She bit her lower lip as she worked. Her brows furrowed with concentration.

“You know evidence of another exit? The tunnel coming down here was elaborate. I’m betting there’s another way out.”

“I don’t know.”

Snick.

“You did it!” Melissa gasped as the lock opened.

She unfastened the collar and threw it away with disgust. The leather swung in an arc dangling from its chain. She felt her throat and reached for Henrietta’s hands. The contact of soft, warm flesh soothed her nerves, giving her strength.

“Now, how do I get you out of this cage?” She moved to the bars at the front and looked at the combination lock on the door. Her eyes lifted, widening with alarm to meet Henrietta’s. “What do I do?”

Henrietta’s breath stuttered out of her chest. “I know the first number is six. And the last is four or five, but I could never see the middle numbers.”

It amazed her the woman had seen any of the numbers at all. Talk about paying attention to details.

“You’re brilliant.” She crouched down and set the first tumbler to six and the last to four. She moved the middle two dials around, moving from zero-zero to nine-nine, but nothing happened.

“It’s not working,” Henrietta said with a moan.

“Give me a chance.”

Melissa turned the last dial to five and tried again. Nothing. She pressed her lips together, concentrating as she reset the tumblers and moved the dials again. The lock refused to budge. She leaned back and looked up at Henrietta. “Are you certain you saw the right numbers?”

“I thought so. I made myself pay attention, no matter how scared I was. He always unlocks the cage and leaves the lock hanging. It makes it easier for him to lock us back inside when he’s …um…when he’s through with us.”

God, Melissa didn’t even want to think about that.

“I’m certain.”

“But not about the last number?”

“I only saw it once, and I think he bumped it when he dragged me out. I remember him having to turn it one turn.”

“Maybe it was a three?” Melissa set to the task again, turning the last tumbler to three, but nothing budged. Her eyes glanced to the dungeon door. She didn’t know how long the men would be gone. When she looked back at the locks, her eyes caught the numbers, and her breath hitched in her throat.

“Oh my,” she said with rising excitement.

Her hands trembled as she turned the first tumbler.

“What are you doing? I know for sure that was a six.”

She thumbed the dial to number nine. “I believe you, but Henrietta, you were looking at it from the top. The numbers were upside down to you.” She turned the third tumbler back to four and then moved the dials. The lock opened with a solidclunkwhen she reached twenty-one.

“You did it,” Henrietta exclaimed. Her hands flew to her chest. Her fingers entwined, and she kissed her knuckles as if giving thanks to a prayer answered. “Oh my.” Wide, frightened eyes glanced at Melissa. “Now what?”

“We help him.” Melissa pointed to the man chained to the wall. She glanced at the wall of implements and suppressed a shudder. “Then we arm ourselves. Three against two? Maybe we can get some of the others to help?”

Henrietta shook her head. “No. They won’t help, or if they do, it won’t be us they’re helping. I’m telling you, he has them brainwashed.”

Her attention turned to the rows of cages. Belle, the one who seemed most devoted to Pierce, slept quietly. Melissa had seen the crazed look in the woman’s eyes and trusted Henrietta, but she wasn’t sure about the others.

She removed the lock and opened the door to Henrietta’s cage. The two women exchanged a hug.

“I’m terrified,” Henrietta admitted.

“Me, too,” Melissa said. “Come.” She headed to the wall.

The man stilled as they approached. His head lifted. The gag in his mouth kept him silent. Melissa strode toward him, determined to remove the hood and the evil gag.

“My name is Melissa.”

Henrietta moved to the side wall. Melissa cocked her head and gave Henrietta a questioning look.

“There’s a mechanism in the wall that holds the chains. I’ve watched him use it.” Henrietta opened a wooden panel and reached inside.

Henrietta struggled with something, but Melissa turned her attention back to the man and watched his deep, painful breaths.

She unfastened the gag, helping to guide it out of his mouth as he struggled. She could only imagine the strain the gag had placed on his jaw. The hood was wet from the saliva dripping out of his mouth, an effect of the gag. He said nothing, working his jaw in slow circles. She reached around the back of his head and undid the buckles securing the hood in place.

“I almost have it.” Henrietta’s voice pinched with strain. “Why is this so hard?”

Melissa pulled the hood off and stared.

“Charles? Oh my God, Charles!”

“I got it,” Henrietta squealed in victory.

The thick chains rattled as whatever had held them in place released. The man crumpled to the floor, leaving Melissa holding a black hood.

Charles glanced up.

“What happened to you?” Melissa couldn’t believe her eyes and dropped to wrap her arms around his tortured body. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Miss Evans,” he croaked.

“Can you move?” So many questions flashed through her mind. She stroked his head, combing back his sweat-soaked hair.

He flexed his shoulders and groaned. “Give me a moment.” His breath hissed between his teeth, cueing her into the tremendous pain he must be in.

“You know him?” Henrietta knelt beside him.

“He was my nurse.”

“What are the odds?”

Charles struggled to move. “I can’t feel my arms, and my legs are asleep.”

“Let me rub them,” Melissa said. “It will help with the circulation.”

He shook his head. “No. Who knows when those two will be back. Go.” His chin jerked toward the wall with the implements. “Grab something. Get ready for when they return.”

“We can’t take them alone.” Melissa examined the cuffs around his right wrist and pulled on the straps. “We’re in luck.” She pointed. “I can pick these locks.” After freeing him of the wrist cuffs, she turned her attention to his ankles.

They worked on unfastening the cuffs.

“You rest. Let the circulation return to your arms and legs.” She tossed the cuffs to the side and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

He gave her an odd look. “For what? I did this to myself. I thought he was…” Charles hung his head. “Never mind. This isn’t your fault.”

She didn’t believe him. What were the chances her nurse had been picked by the man who had been planning her kidnapping?

“I need…a moment,” Charles said through a mask of pain. He might be free of his restraints, but she was afraid Henrietta was right. He wouldn’t be much use when the men returned.

She hurried over to the wall and joined Henrietta before the rows of implements. Henrietta held a thick rod in one hand and a whip in the other.

She turned to Melissa. “I don’t know which one is better.”

“Take both,” she said. “I’m going for a cane because I know I can use it. I’ve never used one of those whips before. I don’t think I’d cause any damage with it.”

Henrietta snapped the whip, and it cracked in the air. “I’ve seen him use it often enough.” She held it out to Melissa. “Take both. We’ll hit them with the canes, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll whip them.” She pulled a third cane and a thick wooden paddle from the wall. “These are for Charles.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Let’s hope he recovers enough to use them. So what’s our plan?”

Melissa waved her chosen cane in the air. It felt weird, almost too light to do any real damage, but she knew from experience how crippling it could be and how much it hurt.

She went to the door. “We wait. Ambush them when they come back. With all those locks, we should have plenty of notice.”