Chapter 5 #2
My plans to escape are now in tatters because I had to be a hero.
I shake my head, berating myself. It was so foolish to try to stop them from hurting William, and I’ll bet they put him on the Board anyway.
All of it was futile. All of it was for nothing.
And now I’ve sabotaged my own plan because I couldn’t let the injustice go.
I’m never getting out of this place.
The walls seem to close in on me as desolation begins to creep in. I try to rally my morale.
I will get out of here.
The guys know where I am.
Maybe they’ll be able to get me.
But I feel like I’m lying to myself. Unless I can leave The Heath, things are just going to get worse and worse for me if I don’t die of hypothermia in this cell first.
Stoke was bad before but now he has a vested interest in keeping John happy and keeping me in his grasp. Money is a powerful incentive. He’ll let my stepfather do whatever he likes, have whatever he wants.
The thought leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
There's no fucking way Marcus is getting his hands on me.
I'd rather die. But, I rationalize, if I'm a problem, Stoke will just drug me, and Marcus will make sure the marriage is consummated no matter what. Hell, he’ll probably take trips here just to get me pregnant with the heirs that are so important to them.
My thoughts make me feel sick, and, for the first time since I got here, I’m genuinely afraid.
I need to escape, now more than ever.
Mav
Ibundle my coat more closely around me. How is the British wind somehow colder than it is in Connecticut, even though it's well above freezing here. I stuff my hands into my pockets and scowl at the deserted road.
'Where the fuck is he?' I snarl.
Blake looks at his watch. 'He'll be here.'
'How do you know?' I grate out, mostly angry that we’re waiting out here for this fucking guy instead of going to get our girl, that because of this random British bloke, we’ve wasted two more days.
‘What if he doesn’t come? What if he was just messing with us, or he’s gone to that fucking house and told them we’re coming?’
‘He won’t do that.’
‘How do you know?’ I mutter.
‘Because he wants revenge for them firing him,' Blake says simply. 'He'll be here.'
A minute later, I see lights coming up from the bottom of the village where a ford runs across the road. I scowl and give Blake a long-suffering look because I recognize the sound of the vehicle.
It's Douglas in his crappy, beat-up car. He pulls up and we pile into his shitty little Corsa, Blake and I cramped in the back.
He chucks a couple of plastic packages into the back. I open one up and realize they’re ski masks.
'Don't put them on until we're outside the village,’ he advises. ‘There's more than one curtain-twitcher watching us from the cottages at the moment, I'll wager.'
He slowly pulls the car away from the curb, and we ride in silence for a couple of minutes until we're well outside the village’s boundaries. He turns off the car’s headlights a few minutes later.
I'm not sure how he’s able to see his way because it's pitch black. When I ask him, he chuckles and says the same way his ancestors did. By the stars and the moon. I think he's joking, but I can't really tell.
Douglas’s silhouette turns towards us for a second, silently questioning.
'Let's go through the plan again,' Shade says from the front passenger seat.
'I'll be in the car, ready to do the getaway driving,' Douglas says with a nod. 'I've brought the cutters so you can get through the fence. I'll park up where it's best to go and tell you which way to the house. You’re entering through the kitchen as we said. All three of you going in?'
‘No,' Shade says. 'Blake will be staying around the kitchen area to keep an eye out for anyone hanging around outside.'
I snort at Shade. In the original plan, I was the one staying behind, but I told him point-blank that wasn’t fucking happening. Blake doesn’t like it, but he’ll have to deal with it.
'Mav and I will go to Daisy's room, see if she's there. If not, we'll find the entrance to the cellars. Once we find her, we’ll bring her out and get back to the perimeter fence. Then you drive us the fuck out of here.'
'And where am I driving you to, lads?' Douglas asks.
'London City Airport.'
Douglas raises a brow. 'London City, is it? Good thing I got petrol earlier today, then.'
'Have you contacted Sauvage?' I ask Shade.
He nods. 'The plane will be ready to go as soon as we get there, probably around midnight or one. And then it's straight back across the pond and to his hotel, keeping our little trip on the down low.'
We fall into silence, and a couple of minutes later, Douglas reaches up and flicks the car’s interior light to ‘off’ before he opens the door. We follow, and a long pair of cutters is guided into my hand.
'The fence is directly in front of you. Keep the hole small. It'll take them longer to find the exit point when they’re looking tomorrow.'
I nod and begin to clip the thick wire that's holding the panel together in the low light from Blake’s phone. When I have a hole big enough for me to crawl through, I try to give the cutters to Douglas, who pushes them back toward me.
‘You might need them, lad.’
He points straight ahead in the direction of the hill where The Heath stands, though we can’t see it at the moment.
'Right. Keep the light to a minimum. Stay in line with that star. There, you see it? You’ll reach the house within ten minutes. On the way back, use the moon.'
I glance back to see the moon just rising behind Douglas’ car.
'Let's go,' Shade mutters, and he's the first one through the broken fence and into the heathland.
We slog through the open field in the dark, the mud squelching up to our calves in some places. I feel like the sound of it alone is enough to give us away, but no one comes, and there are no shouts, no lights turned on in the manor before us.
We get up to the house and skirt around the parking lot, staying in the bushes along the side. One at a time, we run to the wooden slat fence on the side of the property that hides the dumpsters outside the kitchen.
There in the shadows, we stop, listening.
'There's someone there,' I whisper, tapping Shade, and he nods.
I can see the red cherry of a cigarette glowing just beside the door. I can smell the smoke on the wind.
Someone coughs a little and flicks the butt. The door opens, bathing the area in light for a moment, and then closes with a soft sound.
I frown. ‘Thought Douglas said it would be open.’
'Come on,’ Shade whispers, sprinting to the door.
He pulls it open easily and I notice a length of duct tape running down the edge of it so that it can’t latch properly.
Blake stays at the door, looking pissed but resigned.
'Fuck. Your shoes,' he mutters, glancing down.
I let out a sound of annoyance. I hadn’t thought of this. We're covered in mud. It’s coming off our shoes in globs. They’ll leave a trail through the whole place.
Swearing, I unlace them quickly and slip them off my feet.
'Come on. It'll be easier to keep quiet in just socks anyway.'
I tiptoe inside and across the kitchen, peering through the small circular window in the door that looks out into the dining area. There's no one in there, and everything is dark.
I open it, feeling Shade just behind me as we make our way silently across the space to the next door.
There's no window in this one, so I crack it slightly and peep out. I nod at Shade when the coast is clear and remember Douglas’s instructions on how to get to Daisy's room.
We go right, tiptoeing quickly to the next corner. Shade and I peer around it.
We go to the next corner.
'Fourth door,' Shade whispers.
I count the doors on the left and get to the fourth one. It's closed.
I wince as I turn the knob and it squeaks. We freeze, listening intently, but no one comes, so I push the door, hoping against hope that I find Daisy sleeping in her bed.
I close it behind us, and Shade flicks on the light, but the room is empty.
'Son of a bitch,' he snarls.
'The cellar,' I say, my stomach sinking like lead.
‘Yeah.’
'Where did he say it was?' I whisper.
Shade thinks for a second. 'He said out of her room, left, and then left again.'
'Let's go.'
He cracks open the door and looks out. He closes it very slowly and quietly, not making a sound, motioning for me to be silent. I hear some shuffling, more than one set of footsteps, and some laughing and loud whispers.
Shade opens the door again, and we both stare out at the corridor, looking at the two guys in white uniforms as they stroll down the hallway on some kind of patrol.
They stop outside another door. This one’s open.
He looks at his friend, grins nastily, and presses a button on a keychain.
There's a squeal from inside the room, and then a whimper. The one who pushed the button laughs quietly, and the other shakes his head.
'That was definitely louder than the last one. Can’t dispute it, mate.'
'Jammy bugger,' the other says, handing him some paper money and looking annoyed.
My blood runs cold. These sons of bitches are hurting the patients, shocking them with the GEDs and betting on them in some twisted game.
'Those fuckers,' Shade snarls, but we don't move.
However much I'd like to beat the shit out of these guys, we're here for Daisy. She is our first priority, especially if she's down in the dungeon.
When the two assholes are gone and the coast is clear, we leave the room and move down to the next crossroads.
We go left and find the door marked 'Cellar'.
It's ancient and rickety but solid, much like the main door Douglas showed us.
The steps leading down are wrought iron and have a utilitarian, army feel to them, as if they were added much later to replace the original ones.
We go downstairs, and I see more evidence that this place was once used by the military. In the corner, there are old crates with markings I recognize as army stuff even though I'm not much of a history buff.
On the far wall are five doors. They all look the same. Two are open; I look in both, but there's no one there. The third one is closed but not locked. I try it anyway, just in case.
The fourth one is bolted, and there's a padlock in place. There's a small door at the bottom that looks like it's for food.
I bend down and pull it open. ‘Daisy?' I whisper into it. 'Are you in there?'
'Mav… Mav, is that you?' a small voice asks.
Daisy!
All at once I'm awash with relief and fear.
'We're going to get you out of here,' I say.
Shade is already inspecting the padlock. I hand him the cutters, glad Douglas told me to bring them along.
He puts the industrial pincers around the padlock and puts all of his strength into cutting the metal. After a few moments, he glances at me and shakes his head.
'Let me try,' I whisper. ‘There's no fucking way we came all the way here and aren't leaving with her right now.’
I put the cutters back on, using the indentation Shade already made, and I strain with everything I have, praying that it’ll be enough.
The lock falls to the floor and Shade throws the bolt. The door opens inward, and we stand at the threshold.
The room is small like the other cells. Bathed in light from the doorway, Daisy sits on a cot that looks like it, too, was here when this place was used by the army. She's shivering, dressed in a thin, gray uniform.
'Are you real?' she asks quietly.
'We're real, Tulip,' I say.
I go into the room cautiously and go to the bed. She looks up at me, unmoving.
'We need to get out of here. Come on,' I say gently.
She nods and stands up. I wince when I notice her feet are bare. There's no blanket in sight, and this place is freezing.
I envelop her in a hug.
'Jesus, you're freezing,' I say, rubbing her arms.
She doesn’t say anything, just hugs me tighter.
‘There’s a camera,’ she says quietly. ‘I think it’s on at the moment.’
I look around and see it up in one corner. ‘Think anyone is watching it right now?’
She shakes her head. ‘Probably not tonight. The Blanks mess around on the weekends.’
'Come on,' Shade says. 'There's time for hugs later. Let's get the fuck out of here before they realize what’s happening.'