Rattled (33 page)

She tried the motion. She’d never be able to get the angle right with enough force to make a cut. And that was assuming she could even get something sharp enough. Webbing was tough. They used it to set climbs at the tops of cliffs, sometimes hanging the webbing over the cliff edge where it would rub back and forth over sharp rock as the climber’s weight pulled down. If it was so easy to saw through webbing, it wouldn’t be safe for climbing. You could cut webbing with scissors, but with a rock or rusty nail, it might take days.

She didn’t have days.

Erin shifted so she could lean back against the cave wall, but that stretched her arms out so her shoulders ached. She tried to hold back tears of frustration. She needed more than a sharp rock—she needed a miracle.

She heard a soft meow. “Tiger!” Erin gasped as he stepped out of the shadows. She had forgotten about him. He must have hidden when the men came in the cave, maybe remembering his time in the sack. Now he rubbed his head against her knuckles and made an inquiring sound.

Erin glanced at Mitchell to make sure he was busy exploring the treasure across the cave. Fortunately, the glow of the lanterns faded about 15 feet from the source, leaving Erin and Tiger in shadow. “Come on, Tiger,” Erin murmured. “Help me out. Chew through the webbing or use your claws or something.”

Tiger sniffed at her hand, at the webbing, at the metal ring. Then he rubbed his head into the palm of her hand.

“Come on,” Erin begged. “You rescued me before, just one more time now. You can do it.”

Tiger purred and rubbed against her leg. Erin sank back, defeated. He was, after all, just a cat. As smart as he was, as quick to defend, he couldn’t understand complex commands. Expecting him to do what she needed was asking too much. She sighed. “I’m glad you’re here anyway,” she whispered. “But don’t let them see you.”

A shout came from the tunnel and the smaller goon—Rudy—stepped into the room. Mitchell drew his gun and stood so he could cover them all.

“Everything’s okay so far,” Rudy said. He used the gun to gesture at Drew and Camie as they came into the room. “Load ’em up.”

Drew paused by the pile of gold bars and looked at Erin, his gaze intense. It was hard to read his expression in the shadows thrown by the lanterns and his headlamp, but she thought he looked angry. At her, for getting him into this? At himself, for feeling helpless? Or just at Mitchell, the goons, the whole situation? Erin blinked and felt a tear slide down her cheek. She ignored it and forced herself to give Drew a smile that she hoped showed courage. Crying wouldn’t help anything. She couldn’t even reach for a tissue to blow her nose.

Drew shoved gold bars into his small backpack until it sagged with the weight. He headed back into the tunnel after Rudy. Camie gave Erin a quick thumbs-up of encouragement. She turned toward the tunnel with a frown that showed hard thinking. Tiger had retreated into the shadows where the pile of gold bars met the cave wall. He gave a soft grumble and his tail lashed. Erin ducked her head to rub her cheek on her shoulder, wiping away the tickling trail of the tear. She wasn’t alone. She had to keep remembering that. Camie, Drew, even Tiger—they were in this with her. They were all looking for an opportunity to escape. Well, she couldn’t say what Tiger was thinking, but even he could be a help if it came time to fight.

She wasn’t alone. But that didn’t mean she could wait for Camie or Drew to rescue her. They weren’t tied up, but they had guards with guns, and they would be careful not to put Erin in danger. She wished she knew if one of them had a plan. Until she found out, she had to keep working on her own, testing her own ideas.

If only she had one.

Erin tried to take a mental step back and look at the situation calmly, as if her life didn’t depend upon it. She simply had to look at all the possibilities. Wasn’t that a Sherlock Holmes thing, something about once you eliminated the impossible, whatever remained had to be the answer, however improbable?

Of course, that assumed an answer existed. Maybe escape wasn’t possible. Still, looking at the possibilities gave her a place to start.

Her goal was to get her hands free of the metal rings on the floor. That involved her hands, the webbing, and the metal rings. She had tried changing the shape of her hands and it hadn’t helped. She couldn’t remove her hands from her arms and reattach them—something she had never thought to want before, though now the advantages seemed obvious. She couldn’t break the webbing. She couldn’t untie the knots, because she couldn’t reach them. Maybe she could cut through the webbing, if she got a sharp enough object and had enough time. She’d keep that idea in reserve. She wasn’t sure it was possible, but she wasn’t absolutely certain it was impossible, either.

That brought her to the metal rings. She took a closer look at them. They seemed secure in the floor, but were they really? The first time she’d gone climbing, Camie had shown her the permanent metal bolts at the top of the climb and explained how they had been put in with a special drill that worked on rock. They could last for decades, so long as the rock was solid. But these bolts had been around for over a century, before the time of portable power drills. Maybe they’d just been hammered in a divot or crack. Maybe they weren’t as secure.

Erin lifted her hand to pull on a bolt. The webbing dug into her wrist. The bolt didn’t budge. She tried twisting her hand, hoping to grab the bolt, but with the bolt tied at the back of her wrist, she couldn’t get a good grip. Anyway, with her arms stretched out between the rings, she didn’t have leverage.

She checked on Mitchell, who was pawing through one of the Wells Fargo strongboxes. Erin shifted to kneel with her right elbow on the floor. That gave her a little more leverage, but she had to essentially do a bicep curl to pull up on the metal ring. Her arm ached. Her wrist screamed where the webbing cut into the flesh. Her broken finger throbbed in sympathy.

Had the bolt wriggled, just a little? Erin took a few panting breaths and tried again. Her whole arm pulsed with pain, but the bolt stayed securely lodged in the rock. Erin moaned and rested her forehead on the cool stone floor.

Something soft brushed against her knuckles and Erin flinched. Tiger stepped over her wrist and wound himself in a circle around her hand, gently rubbing and purring.

Erin stared at him. His circling motion around her hand, around the metal ring, gave her an idea. Maybe she could unscrew the bolts rather than pulling on them.

She glanced at Mitchell again. He was hacking at the lock on a strongbox. Erin winced at the damage he must be causing and then ignored him. She pressed the back of her wrist against the metal ring, trying to twist it with the pressure of the webbing. Sweat dripped down her face and she wished she could peel off the water-resistant jumpsuit.

The ring didn’t budge.

She tried twisting the ring in the other direction. Finally, when she thought her arm was going to fall off from the tension, it seemed to move a little. Erin rested a moment, panting. She had the same leverage problem, since she couldn’t get a good grip on the ring. What she really needed was a bar to put through the ring to make a proper handle. She looked around the cave. It was probably filled with things that might work, but of course they were all out of reach.

She heard a shout from the tunnel and scrambled back to her knees so no one would notice what she’d been doing. Rudy came in, followed by Drew, Camie, and Danny. Mitchell stood again and aimed the gun in their direction, but within half a minute he was looking down at something in his hand, some find that was obviously more interesting than his prisoners. Good, his distraction could only be to their advantage.

Drew walked past the pile of gold bars and stopped a few feet from Erin. Rudy called out, “Hey, keep away from her!”

Drew gazed down at Erin. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. She couldn’t risk speaking because Rudy was just a few feet away and quickly closing the distance. But his view of Erin was still partly blocked by the stack of gold bars. She mouthed the words, “I need a bar.” When Drew frowned, she tried to motion with her hand, flexing her wrist to show twisting.

Drew’s expression didn’t change. “Hang in there.” He turned away as Rudy stepped up beside him.

Had he understood? Or had he misheard her words, thought she meant something else entirely? Oh God, he didn’t think she meant she wanted a drink, did he? Her words and the odd motion she made with her hand could have been taken to mean just that.

She leaned forward to get a better look, hoping she might catch his attention again, but Drew and Camie stood side by side, filling their backpacks and not looking in her direction. Erin sighed. Maybe she’d have another chance to make one of them understand. For now, she could rest, until the goons left and Mitchell got busy with his treasure.

She tried to find a comfortable position, but it seemed impossible. She finally squirmed around to sit with her knees pulled up, her chin resting on them, her arms out to the sides. If only she didn’t ache so much. The adrenaline jolt from seeing Mitchell had faded, and she felt all the strain of the past week. She just wanted to sleep, to make it all go away, and to wake up with everything better. She imagined curling up next to Drew and tried not to wonder if he would ever want to see her again after this disaster. Camie looked over and winked before following Rudy back into the tunnel. Drew didn’t even glance her way.

Mitchell must have noticed too. Before Danny could leave, Mitchell grabbed his arm and muttered, “Stay close to that one. He’s getting restless, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to run. Tell Rudy to shoot him if he does anything suspicious.” The big man nodded and hurried after Drew.

Mitchell turned to stare at Erin. She dropped her gaze, too discouraged to try to hide her misery. From the corner of her eye, she saw Mitchell smile and nod before turning back to the strongboxes.

Erin told herself she didn’t care if he saw her weakness. What did humiliation matter now? He would never feel sympathy, but maybe he would pay less attention to her if he thought she’d lost her will to fight. Not that she was doing anything worth seeing. She should try again to twist the rings out of the ground, but she couldn’t get up the energy. If she hadn’t been able to do it when she first tried, why would it be any better now, when her arms throbbed with exhaustion?

She told herself not to give up. So long as she didn’t give up, she had a chance.

But she was starting to believe she might die. Maybe Camie and Drew could get away. She didn’t know why Mitchell was letting Drew and Camie walk around now, even if they were helping move his treasure. Either he was too greedy and lazy to do the hard work himself, or it gave him some kind of sick pleasure to see two people who’d looked down on him forced to obey his commands. Either way, it was careless and they could use that. If they timed things right, they would only have to deal with the first goon out of the tunnel. It must be dark outside, which would help an escape.

When they came back, Erin had to tell them to try it. Would they be willing to leave her? Her heart trembled at the thought. Even if it was the right decision, she didn’t want to think that her friends could abandon her too easily.

She remembered Camie’s threat to Mitchell, that bullets wouldn’t stop her from protecting Erin. And Erin knew that was true. Camie was the kind of friend who came along once in a lifetime, and only then if you’re very, very lucky. And Drew? Erin didn’t know him nearly as well. But she knew he cared about her, and he had honor. He wouldn’t want to leave her either. She felt comforted, even knowing it was selfish of her. She would have to find some way to convince them to put themselves first. They could go for help. They wouldn’t reach help in time, but maybe the hope would get them to try.

Erin wasn’t sure what Mitchell would do if Drew and Camie ran. Keep Erin as a hostage during his escape or kill her right away in frustration? She didn’t want to think about that, but she had to consider the consequences of her actions. She had to know if she could handle them.

Convincing Drew and Camie to attempt an escape seemed like the best plan. But what if they failed? What if one of them got shot? Or both of them? Drew was the only one who could fly the helicopter. If he got killed, or too injured to get over there, Camie would be on her own. She’d have to get to the highway, miles away. If Camie got hurt, Drew might be able to carry her to the helicopter and get help, but they were far from a hospital.

Erin rubbed her face against her shoulder, but every time she blinked new tears leaked out. Tiger head-butted Erin’s hand. “And what about you?” Erin whispered. She moved a finger to scratch under his chin. Her hand tingled, and she realized it was going numb from the reduced circulation. She started stretching and curling the fingers of both hands. Maybe it was the least of her worries, but letting her hands go numb probably wasn’t good for her broken finger.

The finger brace! If she could get it off somehow, maybe she could use that as a bar through the ring.

Then she remembered how easily the brace bent. She didn’t know what kind of metal it was, but it was flexible so you could adjust it to the angle of your finger. Maybe it wasn’t as flexible side to side, though. She wouldn’t know until she tried. She imagined sliding the brace through the ring and then trying to grab it with the hand that had the broken finger, which would no longer have the brace for support. She shuddered. Maybe she could reach the brace with her teeth and move it to her other hand. There had to be a way. She just had to find it.