consider asking her if she’s okay but see that she doesn’t want to relive yesterday. She’s moving forward as if nothing horrific happened, and I need to allow it. I need to allow her to cope with tragedy however she does. Clearly, she is an expert at it.
Instead, I need to focus on what happens next for us.
We need a plan.
I don’t think going back to the main house is a good idea. I don’t want to face Richard yet, and I don’t think Ember should either. The homicidal thoughts in me are strong, and I’m not sure I’d be rational when facing the man so soon after his monstrous acts. But I also know that is where the food is. I’m also half expecting for him to arrive today and force us back into the cellar.
He should.
He should expect that I will only try to escape again with more vengeance.
The only lesson he has taught me is that I need to get out of here now. There is never going to be the right time. He’s a smart man who I didn’t give enough credit to. I thought I could outwit him, but now… I know I have to just force the hand. I have to make the escape happen at whatever cost.
Leaving us in the schoolhouse with only a chain around our ankles will be his biggest mistake. Underestimating our level of fear and that it will control us from this point on, is a crucial mistake. I don’t fear the man will kill me. No… my true fear is that I will spend the rest of my life in Hallelujah Junction. And after yesterday… I will die trying to escape rather than spend more time here. He should have pushed me in the acid pits. He will regret that he didn’t.
And it’s not just about me anymore. Ember is in the mix. I meant it when I told her last night that I loved her. I do. What that means, and what that looks like, I have no idea. Nothing is normal with her and me, but that doesn’t take away the emotions I have for her inside. Were they forced upon me? Yes, but regardless how they came, they still exist.
If I can only make one captive vow, it will be to save this woman.
It is no longer about me.
I will save Ember until my last breath.
I prefer to end up in the pit of acid before accepting our life here.
“He’ll avoid us today,” she says as if reading my mind. “He always avoids me for days after… after consequences.”
“He won’t be at the main house?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Maybe he’s ashamed.” She swallows hard. “He should be.”
“Where does he go?”
She shrugs. “Sometimes off into the hills to see Scarecrow. Sometimes to town. Sometimes… I don’t know.”
My mind runs wild again with ideas. He’s gone…
“Let’s get your feet bandaged and then we can figure out breakfast,” Ember says with a warm smile. She appears as if she’s aged overnight, but at the same time, her youthful joy is slowly returning. “I don’t like you walking through the tunnel barefoot, but we’ll clean them good in the bathroom.”
When we get to the main house, we oddly both head to the cellar rather than the main living area. I don’t know if it’s because we both worry Richard is still near and, in a way, we are hiding from him. Or maybe it has an odd feeling of safety and familiarity. Regardless of the reason, we go to the cellar and I carry my old chair of dignity to the bathroom and sit down so Ember can tend to me.
“There’s so much dried blood, that it’s hard to see,” she says as her brow furrows. She reaches for a lantern and matches and lights it so she can see better.
“I think they were surface cuts,” I say, looking around the room, thinking.
Thinking.
I won’t stop thinking until we are out of here.
She opens the medicine cabinet and pulls out peroxide and bandages. The sight of blood doesn’t seem to bother her which fascinates me. Although after what we both watched last night, a few bloody cuts on the bottom of a man’s feet seems like child’s play.
She reaches for the handle in the shower and starts the water. “I think it’s best for you to shower and really get the feet clean,” she directs. “Do you want me to wash your clothes again?”
I shake my head. “You