Текст книги "Hope To Escape"

Автор книги: Jack Parker

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The adrenaline spike was wearing off, and so was the coffee. Roden began to feel the exhaustion of pulling an all-nighter. He wasn't exactly as young as he used to be, and his company was considerably draining.

Manda had brusquely let him know that she was not at all impressed with the plan he presented to her when they left the gas station. He had proposed using the quickly sketched map to follow the roads (or dirt trails, to be more accurate) to each of the twelve cabins on the preserve. His intent was to find the cabin that Max decided to 'hole up' in by process of elimination.

"This is not an effective way to find her," Manda's argument was the same, over and over again as they drove through the forest. The only thing that changed was her word usage. So far the plan was deficient, poor, ludicrous, irrational, stupid, brain-less, time-consuming, impractical and asinine. Roden was getting very good at ignoring her.

"Hello?!" She caught on to his disregard. "I think I should have a say in this. Ess is my best friend. I have more concern for her well being than anyone else here, and I say time is of the essence. How are we going to find her by driving all over creation with no clue where to look?" She got no response from Roden. "We don't even know if they're here."

He didn't know why he bothered, but Roden re-iterated his reason for the plan once again. "We have more evidence that they came here than anywhere else. Max took the map of the preserve off his wall, and the man at the gas station saw them pass through. I'm sure we're headed in the right direction." He took a breath before he continued. "As for using the process of elimination to find the right cabin, I'll ask you once again: do you have any better ideas?"

Manda cast him an over exaggerated glare and turned away. She had no better solution, and this interchange would keep her quiet for at least another half hour, just like their last one did. Then, he could be sure, she would start up all over again.

Roden understood. He really did. This was a slow process. There were no quicker options, though. If there were, he would be the first to try it. He had as much desire to find Max and Ess as quickly as possible as Manda did. Manda's nagging only served to make him more desperate to find them and get this horrible situation done and over with. The real problem, he knew, would be what will happen when he does find the artist and his captive.

Roden glanced towards the backseat. Martin snored soundly, completely unaffected by what was going on. To him, this was still just a little adventure. Roden found himself imagining how satisfying it would feel to dump that tag-along off in the middle of the woods. Or he could have driven off without him at the gas station earlier. These thoughts did not betoken his ability to keep his self-control in high-pressure situations, but the ideas certainly were appealing.

As they turned a bend in the road, Roden glanced upwards past the canopy of trees, and noticed that the sky was lightening. Daylight would be coming very soon. They had wasted a whole night already, and now the pressure was on more than ever.

And yet, he couldn't keep from yawning – rather loudly. Martin stirred from his slumber with a snort. He sat up, wiped the sand from his eyes and cleared his throat. After looking around at their surroundings he emitted a harrumph, and then made eye contact with Roden through the rear view mirror.

"Man, you look beat." Martin observed. "You want me to take over driving for awhile?"

Part of Roden was tempted, but a much larger part of him wasn't going to allow a stranger, especially one that he wasn't particularly fond of, get behind the wheel of his BMW. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm fine." Martin gave him a disbelieving frown and leaned back in his seat.

In the distance, through the congestion of trees, Roden spotted another cabin. This would be cabin number three. Roden hoped the long frantic search would end here. He built himself up for a confrontation, just as he did at the previous two cabins. Of course, these build-ups only led to letdowns so far, which then lent to Roden's exhaustion. He wasn't sure how much longer he could really hold out.

Still, nobody but himself was driving his car. And that was that!

* * *

The pale light of early morning broke through the curtainless window, prodding at Ess's closed eyelids. Soon, she began to stir. Exhaustion from the anxiety-filled night and short slumber, made her groggy and oblivious to her dwelling. She lay on a narrow and rather uncomfortable bed, patiently waiting to regain her awareness.

Memories of the night before revisited her with an unrealistic perception that made her think they were all a dream. The invasion, the restraints, the fight for freedom only to be shot at and kidnapped by another seemed so very unlikely. It couldn't have happened.

But everything came slowly into focus. She was in a cramped musty room with the familiar sounds of nature outside. On a nearby bunk, only inches away, was a heap of her clothes and other personal items lying in an opened suitcase. That was, in fact, the suitcase she had bought after college for all the traveling she wanted to do. The one she had never had an opportunity to use.

It did happen? Ess sat up on her elbows with a start and looked around. It did happen.

She was alone in the room and the door was still shut with the lock latched. He had made no attempt to enter. She heaved a sigh of relief as she pulled herself to a sitting position. Soreness throbbed in muscles all over her body as she tried to stretch the dormancy from her limbs. Her lower back hurt, her neck felt stiff and an ache pulsated from her temples and in the back of her head. The most bothersome pain, however, was the swollen nose. She cringed to think of what it must look like.

A hot shower would help to ease her body-aches. Max said there was a bathroom through the second door in the bedroom, but the water had to be heated. Did he do it? Why not cross her fingers and check?

When her sock covered feet hit the worn out floorboards Ess shivered from the radiating cold they offered. She had slept in her clothes last night, and felt grungy and disheveled. Yes, a shower and fresh clothes were what she needed right now. After that, she could better concentrate on her situation, and how to get out of it.

She looked through her personal items and noticed that, while many of her daily hygiene items were not present, a few of the necessities were available to her. She pushed away the thought that the stranger in the next room had gone through her things to pack a bag for her, and headed for the bathroom. Three sideways steps from the bed got her to the narrow bathroom door.

What was inside looked more like a bath closet. The toilet was directly in the path of the standup shower, and the tiny sink sported a rather rusty faucet. She tried the faucet handles, and with a clunking of the pipes the water began flowing into the sink. It was cold, but she let it flow, hoping that it would warm up.

While she waited, she checked her nose in the mirror above the sink. The metal sheet, once polished, was now scratched and displayed a slightly distorted and foggy reflection, which made it difficult for Ess to tell just how bad her nose really looked. So, after a minute or two, she gave up. By the time she tested the water again it had definitely warmed up. Ess sighed, grateful that she would be able to find some comfort in a hot shower.

She turned away from the sink, and began to study the shower knob. When she figured it out, she gave the knob a twist. It didn't move. She wiggled it, and tried again. It didn't budge.

In frustration, Ess gripped the knob with both hands and yanked at it with all the strength she could muster. Once it began to give, the knob twisted quickly. The cold water that had been sitting in the pipes came pouring out of the showerhead. Ess let out a startled squeak at the chill. Her hair and clothes were drenched in cold water.

She waited miserably for the water to heat up while she peeled the icy wet jeans from her legs. This had to be the worst weekend ever.

* * *

Ess stood at the bedroom door, trying to decide if she should unlock it and go out there. She still had no reason to trust Max. He hadn't hurt her so far, but he did kidnap her, and was holding her here against her will.

On the other hand, remaining in this tiny room would drive her crazy. There was no room to stretch, and no getting used to that musty smell. Besides that, she could detect the feint aroma of bacon and eggs coming from the main room. It had been many hours since she'd eaten, and even then, she never did finish her bologna sandwich. Her stomach was winning the argument.

As quietly as possible, she unlatched the lock, and turned the doorknob. She tried to open the door silently, but it creaked. Ess stopped and cursed under her breath. When she tried it again, she opened the door enough to peek her head out.

Max was at the little kitchenette with his back towards her. He glanced over his shoulder once, but resumed his work. Ess looked on in surprise. The small table she recalled from last night was set with paper plates, plastic silverware, and a pot of coffee that was cooling along with some well-browned biscuits.

After a moment, Max turned around with a tin skillet in his hand. "Good morning." He beamed.

Ess was rather annoyed at his cheerful good humor. She just watched as he served the bacon and scrambled eggs onto the plates.

"Breakfast is served." Max waved his hand over the display on the table. When Ess didn't move, he added, "Have a seat." Obviously, she still had the same feelings towards him as last night, because she kept her distance.

"Please, join me?" he tried again. Instead of sounding polite, his invitation came across as begging. He berated himself inwardly for that, so rather than continue to coax her as though she was a shy animal, Max decided to leave her alone. She could join him if she chose. He sat down, and poured some coffee into his tin mug. After sweetening it, he took a sip. It was still steaming hot and warmed his throat all the way down as he swallowed.

Ess watched the look of satisfaction on his face as Max sipped his coffee. Then, he picked up his fork and dug into his eggs. She found herself begrudging this contented morning-person attitude that he seemed to exhibit.

Max tried not to do more than glance at her, but a glance was enough to note the poorly hidden resentment on her face. Maybe she would come around, just enough to eat. At least, he hoped she would come around. Her reticence was killing him. He wanted nothing more than the best for her welfare, and that included eating.

The decision was killing her. Should she sit down to eat with him? What would be the consequence of that? Would she be giving in to him? Would it be displaying weakness? Damn, she felt hungry. Funny how the body could override the mind in such instances.

With pursed lips and a role of her eyes, Ess exaggerated her movements as she pulled her chair away from the table and sat down in it. She dug into the eggs with a flourish and brought a forkful to her mouth. When she tasted them, she was pleasantly surprised. They were actually pretty good. She wasn't sure if it was Max's fine culinary work or her hunger that made the food so delicious, but she intended to enjoy it.

The whole event was not lost on Max. He knew, he just knew, that she was coming around; and he was inwardly excited. The ice was melting. He just needed to keep the warmth coming. Conversation. That was the next step to win her over.

He just needed a subject. A real subject, not small talk. A sudden thought came to mind, and he jumped on it. "So, how's your brother?"

Since Ess sat down she had not made eye contact with Max. Now, forkful of eggs frozen halfway to her mouth, she shot him a surprised look. "My brother?"

"Yeah," Max got the feeling from the look on Ess's face that he stumbled onto the wrong subject. "Ah, I remember you were trying to raise money to help pay for doctor bills. You know, the lemonade stand?" He now had an inclination that things hadn't gone well.

"Yeah, well, it was a wasted effort." The fork finally found it's way to her mouth. She looked at her plate while she chewed her food.

Max's heart twisted. Here he was trying to warm up to her, and he managed to bring back a painful memory. "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault." She glanced up and noticed the shame that was written all over his face.

"Ah, right." Crap, he said he was sorry again. What an absurd show of weakness. Why couldn't he keep his cool around this woman?

"He was beyond getting well at that point. I was just too young to realize it." She felt an unexplainable need to enlighten him. Maybe it was because of the concern that was evident on his face.

Max nodded, reflecting on what he had just heard. "It appears that you are endlessly hopeful, as well as kind."

Ess huffed out a short laugh. "No, I'm endlessly naïve. My brother's illness tore my family apart. My mom was consumed by his failing health, and she forgot about the rest of us." After the words came out of her mouth she regretted them. They didn't come out the way she meant them to. "Of course, I don't hold any grudge against anyone for that, least of all my brother. He was ill; and he was wonderful. I guess it's true that only the good die young."

"Huh?" Max looked astonished at her statement. He was shocked that she made such a conclusion.

Ess couldn't understand his confusion. "You know 'Only the good Die Young'?" Max's face was blank. "The song by Billy Joel?" she clarified.

Max just shrugged and shook his head. Ess couldn't believe he'd never heard that one. "What, were you born under a rock?" she joked.

Max laughed bitterly. "Ah, yeah, now that's one I've heard." And it was evident by the strange pain that tinged the features of his face, even though he smiled. Ess realized that he really must have had a difficult childhood.

She continued on about her family to divert the direction that the conversation had headed. "Anyway, she never got over it, so I got used to being of secondary importance in my family – I got used to being alone. Turns out it was good practice for adulthood." She tried to make a joke out of it, but found that loneliness was a poor subject for humor.

With that, she stopped herself, realizing that she was relaying too much to this stranger. He just gave off this unusual aura of empathy. What a dangerous talent he had. She needed to be careful or she might find herself baring her soul to him, and that would leave her nothing except vulnerable.

When Max realized she wasn't going to continue talking he ventured with, "Well, what you did for me was important. You meant a lot to me."

Ess froze again with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, which took a moment for her to recover and hide away; and Max realized he overstepped the obsession line, again. Why on earth did he have to say that out loud?

It didn't take long for that ever-ready rosy color to warm Ess's cheeks. She concentrated once again on her food.

Max wasn't sure what to say. How could he save the conversation? She had been warming up to him, and then he opened his big mouth. Would it be wise to say something more? Should he even attempt to correct or explain his lack of discretion? Oh, what did he really have to lose at this point?

"I, ah, I didn't mean for that to sound so . . . neurotic." Ess reacted with a raised eyebrow, but still made no further eye contact.

Then, an idea came to him. He recalled something he had thought of earlier, and decided to try it out on Ess. While he poured a cup of coffee he said, "You know this 'obsession' idea has been given a bad rep. Modern society has labeled it a negative psychological condition, but I can argue against that." He pushed the mug and the box of sugar towards her. After a moment, Ess accepted the sugar and began to prepare her coffee.

Max took that as sign enough that she would hear him out. "I couldn't help but notice your copy of Pride and Prejudice in your apartment last night." She stopped mid-stir and gave him a withering glare.

"OK, I can see how bringing up the home invasion doesn't help my case, but the point is, I know you know the story." He waited for an affirmative.

"Backwards and forwards," she responded, and then added, "Are you saying that makes me obsessed? Because I really don't think that falls into the same category."

"No, no, no. Let me explain." She wasn't getting his drift. "I know the story, too. I had to read it in college." He saw the smallest hint of approval on her face, as her eyes lit up ever so slightly. "I know that it's considered one of the best love romances of all times. Well, amongst women, anyway. Most of the guys in the literature class suffered through it in agony. I, however, found myself relating to Mr. Darcy."

Ess let out a short disbelieving laugh. "Relating? To Mr. Darcy?"

"Yes," Max was a little insulted by her reaction, "Believe it or not. Mr. Darcy was, in fact, obsessed." Ess looked offended that Max would suggest such a thing of Mr. Darcy. "Don't believe me? Look at the story, again. Mr. Darcy becomes infatuated with a girl he barely knows, he fights his feelings for her, but in the end he's willing to overlook every reason not to be with her to, well, be with her."

It did, in fact, make a little bit of sense, Ess thought – a very little bit. "OK, maybe Mr. Darcy's feelings were a little on the extreme side, but at least he contained them. He didn't kidnap Elizabeth and hold her hostage in the middle of nowhere."

"Ah, but he and I have something in common there, too."

"Really? I'm waiting to be amazed." Ess gave him a challenging look.

"Well," Max paused to consider his words, "When Elizabeth's sister intended to elope with Wickham, it threatened to ruin the reputation of her entire family. So, Darcy did what he could to save Elizabeth from social disgrace. He put forth a lot of money and effort, and he suffered with the knowledge that he had to give financial help the very man he despised, the man who had already tried to damage Darcy's own sister, in order to cover up the indiscretion of Elizabeth's sister. He did it all for the woman who meant the world to him, not expecting anything in return. It wasn't until his Aunt tried unsuccessfully to get Elizabeth to promise never to marry Mr. Darcy, that he even realized he may still have a chance with her.

I know you still don't understand the necessity of bringing you out here, but I was thinking of nothing but your safety. Even if I give up my freedom in the end and go to jail, I'll risk it to keep a dangerous man from getting his hands on you."

The realization hit Ess hard. She understood. He was a little unorthodox, but in a way Max was her version of Mr. Darcy. He was less distinguished in his actions and his feelings were unsought, but he fought against his better judgment when he kidnapped her to hide her from some 'dangerous man'. Ess's story was playing out a little darker, and she couldn't imagine the outcome could be as happy, but she somehow felt less afraid of Max now that she thought of him in this respect.

Max saw the nearly indiscernible change in her eyes and he knew he finally broke through the ice. Ess however, wasn't ready to display her concession yet.

And so began a debate on obsessed characters in literature. Eventually, they moved the conversation to the couch by the fireplace (Ess still kept a physical distance, which Max respected), where they spent at least an hour discussing Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights. Now that was a tale of demented obsession. Max fought hard against being compared to Heathcliff's tragic character, and won out in the end, much to his relief.

Angoli, Max thought with resentment, was a different story. His resemblance to Emily Bronte's dark Heathcliff character was too close for comfort. He wisely chose not to bring that up to Ess, though. No need to scare her.