He was way too good at the holding someone prisoner thing and I didn’t even want to think about how many girls had come before me- or where they were today. Still, there was this underlying sweetness about him that promised in a different world, or a parallel universe, he had the potential to be a great guy.
Zombies had spread their infection to him, just like with everyone else on Earth, their decay touched and polluted everything good and right. Kane’s life had been tainted and ruined. Now his actions were dependent only on what would keep him alive.
And maybe I was one of those things. Maybe he didn’t have the love and friendship I did. Maybe if he didn’t force it into his life his brain and soul and spirit would fade away into death and decay. Maybe that would be the end of him.
Coming out of my focused thoughts I finally pushed my body up into a bridge with my head as the anchor, using my former cheerleader flexibility. Forcing my chest as close to my hands as I could, I dug around in my bra with the very tips of my fingers and somehow managed to grab the key with just the pad of my middle finger and the nail of my ring finger. Careful not to drop the precious key, I sank back down to the bed and winced at the sound of creaking underneath me.
I held my breath and let the minutes tick by while I became positive Kane hadn’t heard me. When I was confident there was no movement outside my door I bent my wrists and forced my fingers to cooperate until I heard the click of the lock releasing.
With lightning fast speed I caught the cuffs as they fell from my wrists and pulled them free from the metal headboard. I sprung to my feet and then moved as quietly as I could to the window. I slid the pane up and jiggled the steel bars. Nothing. They were way too solid.
A little desperate now, I jiggled harder, hating that I was making so much noise, but not sure how to stop myself. I shook them more desperately, growling with frustration.
I heard Kane’s heavy, rushed footsteps down the hall and then the padlock as he worked the key into it. A plan came to mind and I left the window wide open while I slunk back into the empty closet. I was shrouded by darkness now, hidden and out of plain sight.
Kane finally got the lock undone and threw the door open so that it banged on the wall next to me. I watched, hidden in the shadows, as his eyes took in the room and then fell to the open window.
“No,” he gasped and then sprinted over to see for himself. I heard him curse under his breath, his drawn gun now lowered at his side. He reached out and gripped the bar, shaking it for himself to see how I got through them.
This was my chance, now or never.
I moved stealthily from my hiding place, my heart in my throat and my breathing so loud I was shocked when he didn’t turn around. With the cuffs still in my hand I slid my hunting knife from my ankle strap and flipped open the blade.
This all happened in the span of two seconds and by the time I had my hunting knife pressed into Kane’s kidneys, he was just turning to find me.
“Don’t move,” I ordered. “Unless, of course, you want me to take some of your vital organs with me on my way to Mexico?”
His breathing was heavy and angry, but he didn’t move.
“Put the safety on your gun,” I demanded. When he didn’t immediately comply I pressed my weapon into his muscled side and felt the knife slice at soft flesh and hard muscle. This time he obeyed. “Throw it back on the bed.”
“You won’t even make it out of town,” Kane warned. “And if you try, by the time you make it back to me I will be beyond pissed. For your own sake, knock this off. Give up, Reagan. Be smart.”
“Kane,” I laughed bitterly. “If I don’t make it out of this town, I hope for my own sake you are pissed off and put me out of my misery.”
“Now, now, Reagan, don’t say things you don’t mean,” he taunted.
I pushed the knife deeper into his side so that a steady stream of blood was seeping through his white undershirt and coating the knife before it dripped down his side and pooled in the waistband of his boxers and baggy sweatpants.
Finally he threw the gun onto the bed without giving me any sign that I was hurting him. With the knife held in place I flicked the handcuffs around one of his wrists with expert like precision, looped it through the bars on the window and then clasped it around his other wrist.
At the same time I removed the knife I jumped back out of his reach. He couldn’t turn around fully to face me but I felt his angry stare as if he had branded my skin with it.
“Thanks for the gun,” I said chirpily as I picked it up off the bed.
“Reagan, I will find you,” he growled out, pulling desperately against the steel bars. The cuffs rattled against them and he continued to stare at them, as if he could cut them off with his laser vision. “I will hunt you down until you’re mine again.”