wanted to be the one to do it. No apprehension, no struggle with morality. Dead. Killed. By her.
“You won’t win,” Amy said through clenched teeth. “I won’t let you win. I swear on my very soul that my family will live through this and that you’ll rot in hell.”
Arty looked as if he hadn’t heard her. “I saw what you did to Jim,” he said. “It was upsetting. Upsetting, but I have to admit, a little exhilarating too. We’ve never had the game taken to this level before. I think it will be that much sweeter in the end, don’t you?”
“It’ll be sweet when you’re dead.”
Arty chuckled. “When I’m dead? What exactly were you planning to do? Kill everyone in the house? I thought you were just trying to make a deal here; trying to save your family.”
Amy was flustered. It was her move, and she didn’t know how to play it. She could only keep spitting threats and pray Arty would back down first. “Arty, I’m telling you one last time, and I am not fucking kidding, I will cut your mother’s throat from ear to ear unless you let my family go.”
Arty studied her. He did not appear concerned in the slightest. “Nah,” he eventually said, waving a dismissive hand at her, “you won’t do anything. It’s not in you.”
“I just stuck a nail file into your brother’s ball sack. I think it’s in me to cut an old lady’s throat.”
58
Patrick didn’t know what was going on downstairs. What he did know was that Arty had left the room, taking Caleb with him, and that his brother Jim had not taken his place for a while now. That left him and Carrie alone.
“Cawee,” Patrick garbled through his gag. “Cawee, helt Danny.”
Carrie stayed curled into a ball in the corner of the room.
“Cawee!”
The little girl twitched and finally looked at her father. She blinked several times before focusing in on his face.
“Cawee, helt Danny wit hi gag.”
Carrie stood to her feet but remained in the corner.
“Cawee, helt Danny wit hi gag!” He prayed she understood him.
She walked towards her father and touched his knee. Patrick smiled with his eyes and said, “Honey, helt Danny hake hi gag ott.”
She reached up to his face and pulled at Patrick’s gag. His daughter’s hand on his cheek brought on an instant stream of tears. Less than an hour ago he was sure he would never experience her touch again.
“Good, honey, good,” he said the second the gag was pulled down to his neck. “You need to do one more thing though, honey. Do you think you can do that? Can you do one more thing for Daddy?”
She nodded, her expression still projecting the glazed look of emptiness it previously held. This concerned Patrick, but wasn’t something he could afford to ruminate over now. At least his daughter was acting, and at this point in time, her ability to take action, despite a lifeless demeanor, was most vital.
“Good, honey. Daddy’s very proud of you so far.” He then spoke slow and concise. “Now, what I want you to do next, is to take one of the knives out from the wall behind Daddy. Can you do that? Can you take one of the knives out of the wall?”
She nodded.
“Good girl. Do it now then, sweetie.”
Carrie reached past her father’s shoulder and clamped her little hand around the handle on one of the knives sticking out of the dry wall. She tugged once, twice, and then a third before the knife squeaked free causing her to stumble backwards, nearly falling over.
“That’s my baby girl,” Patrick said. He could feel his stomach swirling with adrenaline, his brow beginning to dampen; he expected Arty or Jim to appear at the door at any moment and pounce on his daughter. The thought terrified him and brought a quick and desperate tone to his voice. “Carrie, you need to cut Daddy free as quickly as possible. Do you see how Daddy’s forearms are tied to the arms of the chair? All I need you to do is cut one of them free. I can do the rest once you cut one of them free. Can you do that? Can you cut one of Daddy’s arms free?”
59
“So what are we gonna do here, Amy?” Arty asked. “Are you really prepared to commit murder? Here, in front of your son?”
“I’ll do it.”
“Oh I’m quite sure you could kill me or Jim…” He pointed at his mother. “But an innocent old