In the lightless cellar, or whatever it was, Roz and the child spent another chilly time. The cold times had to be nights. If that bit of deduction was right, then Roz had been here most of three days. Thirst was becoming a real threat. They’d have to have water soon, or they’d die.

Chaney, the child on the other box, cried until she made herself hoarse and even that didn’t stop her crying entirely.

Thirst had Roz by the throat and she still couldn’t get her chain loose from the box.

“I’m giving up.”

“We gotta get outta here. Don’t give up.” Chaney’s sobs grew louder.

“I didn’t mean that kind of give up, silly. I meant I won’t try to wreck the box, get free and walk out of here. I’ll have to try something else.”

“What you going to do?”

“See if I can break enough of this wood with my hands and arms. See if I can work a rifle loose.”

Roz felt the box, tried to feel for a weak spot that would break easily. There were no obvious weak spots.

“Guess the only thing to do is just try to pull the box apart.” With a mighty grunt she did what she said…And got nowhere, at first. Then she pulled on the break nearest the corner and that little piece came loose in her hand. It was just enough to allow her to pry something out of the box.

“Okay.” Both Roz’s feet throbbed, but that didn’t matter right now. “Chaney, now I’ve got something to work with.”

“Work!” Chaney sniveled. “I wanna go home. Don’t wanna work.” The girl went back to crying.

“None of this thing feels like wood.” Roz said. Some sort of super plastic or carbon fiber, I guess. Light enough.”

She felt around on it, tried to identify the gun’s parts. “Nothing seems normal. The stock, I guess this is the stock. It’s just a rounded block doesn’t seem like it would fit on anyone’s shoulder.”

Chaney sobbed, “I wanna go home.”

Roz tried the stock against her shoulder. “You know, it fits real good. Maybe, it fits better than our shotgun. Dad made me learn how to use that.

After a lot of feeling around, she found the trigger. Then she felt for the barrel; but except for a cylinder-shaped end piece less than four inches long, the barrel was covered with other parts that made it too clumsy to get a decent handhold.

“Some of the parts have sharp edges. If I tried to hold the barrel like a club or a baseball bat I’d cut my hands, first thing. Then I couldn’t hold on well enough to hit him with it. Besides, blood is slippery stuff.”

Chaney didn’t reply, just cried.

“Wouldn’t have any idea of where to put the bullets even if I knew which box they were in. Besides, I don’t want to shoot anyone, not even our kidnapper.”

She felt of this thing all over, tried her best to make a useful tool out of it.”

The odd apparatus on the opposite side from the trigger confused her for a while. Then it dawned on her. “That’s got to be the mount for a scope.”

Chaney whimpered, but said nothing.

“The whole barrel is just too gnarly. I can’t find a good way to hold it. I guess I’ll have to hold the stock with both hands, swing the rifle and hope.”

“I’m as ready to fight as I’m likely to get,” Roz said. “If I could see, it would help a lot. Oh wait, our enemy will bring light,” she told Chaney.

Then Roz had another idea. “Maybe I can use this rifle to tear my chain off the box.” She began using the barrel as a hammer to beat the riveted on chain off the box. She kept at it for a long time. Finally she exhausted herself.

“That’s not a very good hammer,” she said. “At least I’m not cold any more.”

Chaney replied with another storm of tears.

Finally Roz couldn’t think of anything else to do. She stopped and lay still, perhaps she dozed.

The chill had already left the air when Roz heard the scraping noise her kidnapper made before.

Quickly Roz readied herself for battle. She’d need to go for the man’s head, hit him hard and don’t pussy-foot, or in anyway be gentle. Kidnappers usually kill their victims, better remember that.

Stay alive, stay alive!

When the little door overhead opened up, the light’s glare overwhelmed Roz. She stood up and shielded her eyes with one hand. She held the gun behind her with the other. The kidnapper came down the stairs with a chain coiled around each shoulder.

While trying not to breathe so hard she alerted this creep to his danger, Roz waited. Her weapon remained behind her.

He reached the dirt floor and took a step toward Roz.

Just a little closer…

But he stopped and adjusted the coil of chain on his right shoulder

…Little closer.

He took two more steps in her direction. “On the dirt,” he ordered.

Roz frowned, what did ‘on the dirt’ mean?

Doesn’t matter. I promise, after I knock you out, I’ll get you some help as soon as I can. Just take one step closer.

The smelly man took another step toward her.

Roz yelled like a karate expert and swung the unwieldy gun/club at the man’s head.

At the last split-second the man stumbled back and fell.

The rifle bounced off the dirt.

Before she could swing at him again, the man scooted out of reach, stood and rubbed his backside.

He breathed hard a time or two. Then he said, “Gal, that weren’t a polite thang to do. I’m much nicer to girls that’s good to me. Better keep that in your mind.”

He stayed out of Roz’s reach.

“You want me to get a whackin’ pole?

Roz said nothing, just waited for an opportunity.

“I knows you don’t want no whackin’ pole laid into you.”

Roz watched him…

“Toss ‘at gun over this way.”

Roz shook her head no.

“Gal, ‘bout half a minute I’m gonna git my pole. You made that gun a pole, and I give you credit for that. Thang is, my whackin’ pole’s four times as long as your’n.

Have to stay alive as long as I can.

She held the tiny bit of exposed barrel and slid the gun to her captor.

With a big grin, he threw the gun toward the far end of the cellar and stood in front of Roz.

“On the dirt,” he ordered.

Roz still had no idea what he wanted or what she should do.

“On the dirt.” He shoved hard on her shoulder so that she fell backwards and sat on the dirt.

He put his boot on her chest and pushed her down. Then he put that boot on her stomach. After that, he took her unchained right foot and attached it to one of the long chains that had been on his shoulder.

Don’t fight–only make things worse. Lie right here on the dirt and wait for him to make a mistake. Lord Jesus, Please. Give me an opportunity.

After chaining her Then the kidnapper unlocked her left ankle from the chain that attached to the box of rifles.

Chaney whined and cried the entire time their jailer dealt with Roz.

He repeated the procedure with the younger girl. Her screaming grew louder. But the man said nothing else.

“Awright, I’m leaving this hole. You can come out on your own, or I’ll drag you out. Your choice.”

Then he turned and marched up the stairs. The chains snaked behind him.

Obviously, it would be worse, much worse if he dragged them. Roz followed him. When the younger girl continued to stand and cry, Roz grabbed her.

“Come on. We can’t do any good at all down here.” Roz said.

Chaney didn’t say anything, just kept crying. At least she climbed the stairs.

After so many hours in the dark, the bright sunlight made Roz almost blind at first. When she could see better, her spirit dived even lower. No building, just a trapdoor for the steps. The rest of that cellar had been completely camouflaged. It looked like a bare dirt patch where a huge shelf of rock might lie just below the ground.

A large pine tree in the middle of a pine forest hid the cellar. How would anyone ever know where she was? If they tried to find her with planes and helicopters, they wouldn’t see a thing.

And how would they know to come here? This place with its pines and boulders had the feel of Colorado–no, scratch that. The temperature was too warm, more likely southwestern Arkansas, could be north east Texas maybe. Lots of pines there.

The smelly man who held their chains kicked the trapdoor closed.

Roz couldn’t help coughing, her throat hurt, ached and itched. “Mister, could we have some water. We’re so thirsty.”

“Poor, poor kid. You think I got water?” He laughed. “Tell you what, you can give me a blow job and maybe I’ll pee in your mouth.”

He cackled at his attempted joke.

I wish I had a big branch. You’d be dead before you knew it.

“Awright, push that boulder back on top of the hole,” he said.

“Mister, we’re poor people. I go to college because I’ve managed to get some scholarships.” Roz talked fast. “A-And I work some too. Dad works overtime as well. We have no money for ransom,”

Chaney blubbered, “My mom is on food stamps.” Then she bawled, “We don’t have no money neither.”

The man kicked at Chaney and only missed because Roz grabbed her, jerked her out of his way.

“Put that boulder on the trapdoor and scatter the dirt around,” he said. Then he cursed and kicked a dead branch from among the woodland rubbish.

Roz put her shoulder into pushing the rock–and went sprawling when it scooted away. The rock was a lightweight fake. She’d been so upset she hadn’t realized it.

“My, my, ain’t you the strong one,” the man said.

Roz didn’t say anything, just shoved the ‘rock’ and the dirt on top of the trap door.

The man seemed to be daydreaming. Roz grabbed her chain and gave it a mighty jerk.

The man chortled and yanked; Roz fell. “Now this is what I call fun.” He cackled until he wheezed. “Com’on girlie, do it again.”

Roz tried the same thing a few minutes later, but that stinking, horrible man only hauled on the chain and jerked her feet from under her.

“You’re a barrel of laughs, gal. Wish I didn’t have a contract on you. We’d have a good time, as long as you lasted.”

After rubbing her bruises, Roz stopped trying. Her stomach hurt and she could hear her heartbeat in her ears. She decided to save her strength for a real chance to get away. Or maybe Dad or the police or someone would come soon.

“Stay alive, stay alive,” she whispered.

The inside of her cheeks were as dry as the outside. Swallowing only made it hurt worse.

Chaney cried and cried, just as she’d done since the moment she woke up.

Like my brother, a female Bobby, only worse. Jesus, isn’t one Bobby enough?

They walked up a hill and on reaching the top began sliding down toward the shore of a narrow lake. By its length, and square corners, Roz knew it was man-made and wondered why.

As if in answer to her question, a twin-engine plane with pontoons instead of wheels touched down near the far end of the lake and taxied toward them.

No way!