Captive Bride - Alta Hensley Page 0,60

going to be gone before he returns,” Christopher announces as he leads the charge into the room. “He won’t ever know we were in here.”

Christopher goes straight to the closet door and opens it. The first thing we see is Papa’s ranger uniforms hanging nicely in a row. No other clothes are hanging with them. Christopher smiles when he looks to the ground and sees a pair of hiking boots, and my goloshes that I got to wear when Papa and I went snowshoeing together before… well… before he stole Christopher. He picks them up, hands me my shoes, and leads us back to the chair and sits down and starts putting the hiking boots on.

“They’re tight, but better than nothing.” Christopher’s smile grows. “He fucked up. He really didn’t think before he left. Did he really think we’d do nothing?”

I can now see what Christopher is thinking. He plans to have us try to hike out of here again, but at least this time we won’t be barefoot.

“It’s far,” I say. “Even with shoes, we may not get out of here and into town before he returns and hunts us down with the ranger truck.” I’m not just telling this to Christopher out of fear, but out of reason. Christopher has underestimated my father before, and I refuse to let that happen again.

Christopher moves on as if I didn’t say a single word. He helps me put on my boots and then turns his attention to the dresser. He begins pulling out clothing in search for something warm. Satisfied when he finds some sweaters, he quickly pulls one over his head and then dresses me in one as well which dwarfs my body in wool.

“Do you think he has coats anywhere?”

“There’s a hall closet with his ranger coats. I’m sure he has his thick one on now for his hike.” I know he has a rain coat and a lighter jacket as well.

Christopher reaches for the quilt on the bed and pulls it off. He bundles it in his arms and leads us out of the room.

“Even if we are warm enough,” I begin. “It’s about how much time we have. It will take us hours to get down the hill. We will be racing against the time it takes for him to return and him jumping in the truck. You know he’ll come after us.”

“What about the truck?” Christopher asks. The mention of the truck only fuels his exit plan ideas more. “Is there any way we can find his keys?”

“He’d not leave the keys. He isn’t that stupid,” I say, not even having to look to see. Although I point to a drawer. “If they are anywhere, they are in that drawer.”

Christopher nearly has us sprinting to see, and I watch his face fall as he finds the drawer empty as I expected.

I look outside and see that it’s snowing again. The thought of hiking down a hill to the town is daunting. Especially chained together. We struggle to walk comfortably, let alone try to run while shackled. In fact, it feels near impossible. It will be cold. We can die of hyperthermia, shoes or not. And if we get caught…

Papa Rich will torture Christopher right in front of my eyes. He can’t take anything more from me now that Pine Cone is gone, but he can kill Christopher. He can make me live the rest of my life without him. I also know that Papa Rich will make me marry Scarecrow as my penance, and I prefer to die in the acid pit over that.

“I think we need to think this through,” I begin.

Christopher takes my hand and brushes my hair away from my face. “I know you’re afraid. I know warning bells are going off in your head, but I need you to trust me. I need you to give your all. We can escape here if we stick to my plan. I need you not to fight me. I need you to work with me on this. We’ll be free, Ember. I swear to you, we will be.”

I want to do what Christopher asks. I want to be a good wife. But more than that, I want to be free.

Yes, free.

I don’t even know what that word really means. Away from Papa Rich, I suppose means free. Not having to ever see Scarecrow again means free. Leaving Hallelujah Junction and not having to walk amongst the tunnels or be forever locked in a schoolhouse