I realized we were going to leave tracks pointing to our escape route. We needed to get out of here as quickly as possible so the continuing snowfall would hopefully cover our tracks.
“Stop,” I said, closing my eyes for a second as a new round of nausea and dizziness hit me. “I think we’re close. Let’s check the depth.”
The depression was about a foot deep in a half circle. Freedom was so close I could taste it, but it made me anxious too. If he decided to come in and check on us, it would be difficult to hide what we’d been doing. But the hole still wasn’t big enough for us to escape. “I think we only need to go a little farther.”
“Okay.” She continued digging while I took another few seconds.
The movement had warmed me up some, but my head was killing me and my balance was off, and a new worry took hold. I was going to slow Greta down when we got out. I wasn’t sure I could run, let alone walk without falling over.
After another five minutes of us working in silence, I checked the hole again. “I think it’s good enough. Greta, you go first.”
She stared at me in wide-eyed terror. “I can’t.”
“You can,” I said. “And you will.”
“What if I get stuck?”
“Then I’ll dig you free. Now go.”
My bossiness must have overridden her fear because she got on her stomach and started to put her head through first.
“Stop,” I said. “Put your hands through first so you can pull yourself up.”
“Yeah. Okay,” she said as though giving herself a pep talk. She did as I’d suggested, threading her arms into the hole and then her head.
I realized our mistake straightaway—we should have given the hole more of an incline, but it would work in a pinch. Greta had gotten the top half of her body through, but we hadn’t made it wide enough for her hips. She was stuck. She started to panic, struggling against the blockage, but I put my hand on her lower back and said, “Calm down. He’ll hear us. You’re okay, I’ll dig you free.”
To my relief, she settled down and I used the shovel to dig around her hips, trying to not jab her despite my growing sense of urgency.
We were so close.
Just when she was on the verge of wiggling free, we heard the squeaking of poorly oiled door hinges. Greta pulled her legs the rest of the way free and turned around to stare at me through the hole with pure panic in her eyes.
“Carly!” she whispered.
I doubted I’d make it through the hole in time, and I was still unsteady enough that I’d never outrun him.
Grabbing her hand, I squeezed it hard. “Run for help. I’ll keep him busy.”
“How?” she asked in disbelief.
“I’ve got some weapons I can use,” I said. “He won’t be prepared for them. Now go!” I gave her hand a shove, and after giving me a look of hesitation and guilt, she ran soundlessly into the trees. Leaving clear tracks behind her. Hopefully he wouldn’t see them before he came into the shed.
I planned to buy her as much time as I could.
A man was whistling a happy tune, and the sound got louder as he came closer. I suspected he was taunting us, something he confirmed when he called out, “Carly, I’m comin’ to see you. We’re gonna have some fun.”
And I would be ready for him. If I’d had time, I could have refilled the bucket with screws and swung it at his head, but I really needed to use the element of surprise.
I grabbed a handful of the screws, pulling out the longer ones and placing them between the fingers of my right hand, the ends pointed outward, while I held the shovel in my left hand.
“Carly?” he called out again, sounding entirely too happy to suit me. “Are you awake yet?”
I remained silent, trying to formulate a quick plan. I’d never taken self-defense classes, but I knew one of the most sensitive areas for a man, so I crouched next to the door and waited.
“Hey, Greta,” he said next to the door. The padlock clunked against the wood. When she didn’t answer, he grew pissed. “You stupid bitch. Answer me.”
My pulse was pounding in my head, and adrenaline flooded my system. I gave this a twenty-five percent success rate, but I reminded myself of my main goal: buying time for Greta. Anything else was pure bonus.
There was