Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Rushing to the kitchenette, I take a glass and drink two rounds of water. My stomach turns angrily at the onslaught after being dehydrated for days, but if I don’t drink, then I can’t help Hope. Praying it stays down, I take the scissors and a wrench type tool I find, and I get the hell out of that RV. Ducking down, I urge Hope to climb out. Quickly, she does, and I pull her with haste towards the darkness.
I’m right, the fence is too high to climb, but it is pitch black out here, so nobody can see us unless they shine a light in our direction. I hope we manage to have a few minutes before anyone comes in this direction. Flashlights are shining all around, and I can hear the rumbling of vehicles going down the road, no doubt looking for us. It won’t take them long to come this way.
I take the scissors and with all my might, I start clamping them down on the wire. It’s not easy, and it takes all my strength to break each little piece. My stomach turns, the threat of vomit so close that I’m not certain I can hold it down much longer. Sweat trickles down my face as I cut, my fingers getting tangled and scratched in the process. Using the wrench tool, I shove it in the wire I’ve cut and try to wedge it open as much as I can.
It's not great, but we have to make it work.
“Go through, I’ll hold it open,” I say to Hope, who has been beside me the entire time, the only sound alerting me that she’s there, an occasional sniffle.
Hope reaches out her hand, looking for me, and I take it, guiding her to the small opening I’ve made. She shuffles through it as I hold it open, using every last bit of strength in my body. When she’s out the other side, I push myself through. I’m bigger than her, and as I shove my body through the jagged wire, I feel it tear into my skin. Gritting my teeth and forcing myself not to moan in pain, I take a deep breath and shove myself out the other side.
Then we’re up and running.
I don’t know where, because it’s scarily dark out here, but I keep my hand wrapped firmly around Hope’s as we head away from the light of the camp and the bellowing voices. After five or so minutes, I pull Hope to a stop when a pair of headlights alerts me that someone is ahead. Carefully, using the trees for cover, I get a little closer to see how many people we need to get past.
The truck idling by the long road is empty.
I can hear the faint sound of someone relieving themselves, the light scent of smoke tells me whoever it is, seems to also be having a cigarette break.
This is my chance.
I don’t think, I don’t take time to do anything except focus on the task ahead. Taking the truck and getting the hell out of here. I pull Hope into a run straight toward the truck. Throwing the door open, I frantically tell her to get in. A shouting voice from the man who was peeing, tells me I only have seconds, if that. The moment Hope is in, I dive into the front seat and throw the truck into drive, then I hit the gas, and it lurches forward.
Hands gripping the steering wheel, I drive full speed down the road.
I don’t know where I’m going, or how long this road is, but an instant feeling of relief floods me. With this truck, we might just make it out of here alive.
We pass other trucks, and I attempt to keep low as I speed past them.
Eventually, the long road joins a main one, and I pull the truck out, hoping to see a sign soon that will let me know exactly what town I’m near. It takes a while, but slowly I am met with a handful of other cars, and I see a sign to indicate that I’m forty or so miles from the closest town. I have no choice but to go to it, and hope I can find a way back home, or maybe a way to contact Fury so he doesn’t go after Hope and get himself killed.
“Are you okay?” I ask Hope, my heart rate slowly easing the further away we get.
“Yes,” she whispers, her voice quiet.
“I know that was really scary, but it’s over now. I’m going to take you to Uncle Fury, okay?”
She nods and reaches across for my hand.
I squeeze hers.
I don’t know how, but we did it.
I got her out of there.
Now, I just have to get her home.
ADRENALINE IS A FUNNY thing.
It masks all your pain, your body’s exhaustion, and it makes you feel like you could move mountains. The problem with it, though, is that when it wears off, it wears off hard. It hits you like a hurricane, gripping your chest and twisting your heart until you can barely breathe.