Chapter 24

24

Dawn was breaking. Bethanne could see the first glimmer of sunlight through the small gaps between the newspaper covering the window and the frame surrounding it. The light was dim, but it allowed her to see Candace's sleeping form next to her. And that the floor of the building wasn't dirt like she'd first thought. Underneath the dirt and grime was worn wood.

When they'd arrived, the man had pushed them onto the floor. Of course, they'd fallen in a jumbled mess. It was dark, they were scared to death, and each pair of their hands had been tied together by a scratchy, frayed rope. Then the man had picked up two pieces of old rope from the corner of the shack and tied their hands together so neither could move without the other having to do the same. The skin on her wrists was already rubbed raw and probably bleeding in spots. She wondered if they'd bear scars from this ordeal for the rest of their lives.

It was also so painful. For the first few hours, her arms and shoulders had protested the position. Now everything felt numb. In some ways, that was even more worrisome.

"Bethy, you awake?" Candace whispered.

"Jah."

"Did you fall asleep too?"

"I guess."

"I know I did." She inhaled, her breathing sounding ragged.

"We've been in here for hours, Candace. It doesn't matter if you were awake or asleep."

"You're right." She moved a bit. Since they were so close together, Bethanne could feel her cousin attempt to move her hands. It was obvious that Candace was hoping not to hurt Bethanne as she repositioned.

Bethanne's heart went out to her. "How are you feeling? Are you hurting worse?" Candace had tried to fight Scott when he'd clawed at the soft skin above her collarbone. His jagged fingernails had broken the skin, and his harsh grip had made Candace cry out. Tears had run down her face as Bethanne had attempted to break free.

"It's not too bad." Scooting closer to her side, Candace whispered, "I'm so sorry, Bethanne. I never, ever would've wanted anything to happen to you again. This is all my fault."

"Being taken from my yard, dragged through the woods, and tossed in here is not your fault."

She sniffed. "Well, it's sure not yours."

"It's neither of our faults. It's his." When her cousin sniffed again, Bethanne knew the tears were falling again. "You mustn't cry. There's no way to wipe your tears."

"Sure there is." A few seconds later, she added, "I'll just wipe my eyes and nose on your clothes."

"Thanks a lot."

"Anytime."

"We'll get through this, Candace. I know it."

"I hope so."

Snuggling as best she could next to Candace, Bethanne closed her eyes. If she breathed deep, she could catch a whiff of her cousin's perfume. Or maybe it was her lotion or shampoo? "What makes you always smell so good?"

"What?"

"You've always got a good scent surrounding you. It's ... I don't know. Like flowers and vanilla and maybe honey?"

"I can't believe you're asking about my perfume right now."

"It seems like the perfect time, especially since you smell good."

"I guess I should be glad I don't stink."

"Jah. We should both be glad of that," Bethanne teased. "Anyway, I'd rather think about your perfume than imagine how gross this floor is. So, what is it?"

"I went to some party with my mother years ago where they make up a scent just for you."

"Fancy."

She chuckled. "I thought it was silly and a waste of time. But maybe not, because I've always liked the perfume I was given. It's got jasmine and gardenias and is supposed to have vanilla undertones."

"I'm not even sure what that means."

Sounding a tad bit calmer, Candace said, "I don't know if I do either. I guess the perfume maker added a touch of vanilla. I think the rest of what you smell is my lotion." She exhaled. "You're so funny, Bethanne. I can't believe you brought it up."

"I've always wondered what it was. I was just too embarrassed to ask."

"Why would you be embarrassed?"

"Come on. You're Candace and I'm me."

"I don't know what you're getting at. And for the record, you don't smell either. You just smell like Bethanne."

"You know what I mean. Jah, I'm Amish and you're not, but there's more that's different. You've always been so pretty. But more importantly, you've always had goals and been confident. I've always wished I was more like you."

"You're perfect the way you are."

"Oh, please. I could hardly leave my room for years."

"Bethanne, stop. What I'm trying to say is that you're pretty too. But the more important thing is your character. You're sweet. You always take time to think of others. I'm too selfish by half. I've often wished I had more of your humility."

"I'm glad you're not like me. I'm glad you're you."

"Right back at you. Just so you know, if we ever get free, I'll buy you some of that perfume. Or, better yet, I'll take you shopping and we'll pick out your own signature scent."

"That'll go over real well with my mamm," she quipped sarcastically.

"Yes, but think about Jay," Candace teased. "He'd love it."

In spite of their surroundings, Bethanne found herself imagining his reaction. "I don't know if he would even notice my perfume."

"He would."

"Doubt it. Besides, we haven't gotten that close."

"I saw the two of you together at your daed's party. He seemed to notice everything about you. But even if he doesn't, what matters is if it makes you feel good."

"I suppose you have a point." Peeking at the covered window again, Bethanne noticed that the light was now brighter. She could see more of their surroundings too. It was a small space they were in. Barely bigger than a walk-in closet. Someone could lie down on the ground, but only just. And if they were over six feet, they probably wouldn't be able to straighten their legs.

The ceiling was a mixture of old metal and tar paper, and some of the wood walls were so worn and rotted that it seemed a good wind would blow them down. "Where do you suppose we are?"

"I don't know," Candace said. "You've never seen this place? I thought it might be on your property."

"Nee. Our property ends at the woods. Some Englischers lived next door for a while, but they moved away. My daed said they were renting a mobile home or something but then couldn't pay their rent so they had to leave."

"Who owns it, then?"

"I don't know." Bethanne sighed. "Honestly, I've never thought too much about the owners. I don't think I've ever seen them. Lott was the one who liked to go walking through here when we were kids. But last night we didn't walk for all that long, so we can't be too far from my place."

"Maybe it's an old deer blind?"

"Maybe, but aren't those usually higher off the ground?" Once a year, Lott, her daed, and a couple of other men went deer hunting after Thanksgiving. She'd never paid too much attention to the details of their trips.

"Yeah. Maybe it was a spot to get warm or something?"

Bethanne could see that. "That seems possible. Whatever it is, it's obvious no one's been in here for a long time." All her fears and worst doubts rose again. If they were really in an abandoned hunter's shack, would anyone in her family think of that? "What do you think is going to happen now?" she asked.

"I don't know. I guess Scott will come back. I ... I'm afraid of what he might do."

Tears pricked her eyes. "Don't say that."

"Bethanne, he didn't abduct us just to leave us here. He's going to do something. I'm just sorry that you're involved too."

"We're not going to think about that. We have to get free."

"How? Both of our hands are tied together and we're attached."

She hated how resigned Candace sounded. "Wiggle your elbows. Do you have any leeway at all?"

Candace shifted and moved her elbow an inch. Maybe two.

Bethanne felt the movement pull on her own wrists, but it wasn't painful. "Do you remember when he tied us up?"

"How could I not?"

"Remember how he pushed us on the ground and started to leave but then picked up the rope on the floor?"

"I kind of remember him doing that," Candace said. "Why?"

"What if he just saw this rope on the floor? I mean, what if it's not brand-new? What if it's as old as this shack?"

"Well ... if it's as old as this shack, then it might not hold."

"Exactly."

Turning her head, Candace muttered, "We need to find something to rub it against. What about the doorframe?"

"Even if we could scooch over to it, I don't know if it would do much. We need something that's at least a little sharp." Bethanne scanned the fairly well-lit interior. "Do you see anything?"

"No. Oh, wait a minute," Candace added with a touch of excitement. "What about that thing on the wall? Is that a nail?"

"What thing?" Even though they were right next to each other, they weren't facing exactly the same direction.

"Let's scooch counterclockwise so you can see it."

Scooching anywhere sounded almost impossible. "Candace. Scooch counterclockwise? Really?"

"Hey, we've got nothing else to do."

"True." There was barely enough slack in between their bodies for them to move. "So, on the count of three?"

"Yeah," Candace said.

"One, two, three."

And they moved—discovering that moving in sync without use of their hands was much harder than they ever would have imagined. Given the fact that Bethanne was in a long dress, it felt even harder. After edging maybe six or seven inches, they stopped.

She was panting. "This is almost impossible."

"Nothing's impossible. Come on."

Fueled by her cousin's encouragement, Bethanne counted off and then they moved a bit again. "Can you see the nail yet?"

"Kind of. But how are we going to reach it?"

"I hadn't thought that far. I mean, until we started trying to move together, I thought we could get up against the wall, then somehow move this rope near the top of the nail and break it."

After a few seconds, Candace said, "Let's try to get over there, then."

The distance was only about three feet, but it might as well have been three yards. Or three miles. It still felt insurmountable. "I don't know, Candace. I don't think we can do it."

"Don't say that. Don't even think that you can't."

"I want to be positive, but I'm scared," Bethanne admitted. "What if no one realizes we're missing? The sun is only just coming up. No one is going to wonder why I'm still in bed. My parents are probably still sleeping in."

"Don't say that. I'm sure people are out looking for us."

"Why would they, if they think I'm asleep? What if they think you are too? Your parents probably thought you left before them. What if they just went inside and went to sleep too? It could take hours for someone to even begin searching for us."

"You're forgetting my car. It was on the street."

"But it was dark. They might not have been looking for it."

"They would have noticed that it wasn't there when they got home," Candace said as they moved some more. Her voice was strained—maybe from pain?

"True."

"I know everyone's worried, Bethanne. My parents would wonder where I was, and when I didn't answer my cell phone, they would've started looking. And, sorry, I know you like to think that you're independent now, but everyone still worries about you. No way would everyone in your family go to sleep without making sure you were in your bed fast sleep."

"But—"

"No. Bethanne, you listen to me." Candace now sounded almost mean. "We are not going to just sit here in this dirty, dark, stupid shack. We are not going to give up hope or start thinking the worst. When that guy gets back, we're going to be ready."

Candace's rah-rah speech was all well and good, but the reality was that they were held captive, and no one had any idea where they were. And they had no idea where Scott, if that really was his name, was. "Candace, lower your voice. He could be standing outside. He's probably laughing at us."

"Let him. I don't care where he is. We are going to get through this, Bethanne. You did not survive just to die in some shack. Now, come on. Let's scoot toward that nail."

"I didn't know you could be so mean."

"If we get through this, you can call me mean all day."

Just imagining that made Bethanne smile, and she'd started to think that she'd never have anything to smile about again. "One, two, three, Meanie. Go."

Bethanne didn't have any idea what was going to happen next, but God did. Until she found out His plan, she was going to fight to survive.

And then fight some more.

"Ready?" Candace said.

Because she had no choice, Bethanne nodded. "Let's do it."