Chapter Six
(Date & Time Unknown—Katie)
Katie Bradshaw was terrified.
And if she ever got over that, she’d be embarrassed. She was twelve now. Being scared was supposed to be something she’d gotten over a long time ago. But for some reason she couldn’t help it.
This was a lot worse than even that time four years ago at her grandmother’s house when her cousin Kevin had tied her up in a sack and hoisted her to his shoulder, threatening to throw her in the lake. He was only three years older, but he’d been big for his age and she’d always been small.
She’d been mad then, and hadn’t had time for fear. She’d kicked out at him as he strode toward the water, managing to entangle her legs in his, flinging them both down the concrete steps that led to the pier.
She’d broken her collarbone when she landed, and her cries of pain had scared Kevin far more than he’d frightened her. He’d helped get her out of the sack, and asked her with tears in his eyes if she was okay. In spite of the pain, his tears had completely undone her anger, leaving pity behind. He would be in so much trouble!
But in the end he hadn’t been, because she had never told anybody the truth about what he’d done, though the story he’d come up with hurt her pride a little. Even at eight, she wouldn’t have fallen off her bike, not without a better reason than the water moccasin encounter Kevin had dreamed up. And she was still a little angry with him for the way he’d strutted around afterward, explaining to everybody that he’d chased the snake away for her.
But at least it had been over quickly and everything had turned out okay, though she still had a little bump on her shoulder.
This time it was completely different. She was really, truly, scared.
At first she’d thought of the man in the parking lot as Silly Man. He’d tried so hard to be funny with that story about his horse! It actually had been kind of funny, and she’d felt bad about turning down the chocolate he’d offered her, because she hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings.
But she knew she wasn’t supposed to accept gifts from strangers, and chocolate made her face break out, and besides, Aunt Maria and Uncle Stephen would have been mad.
She’d just wanted to go to the car to get the Harry Potter book she was reading so she could show her cousin Patrick, Kevin’s younger brother, the place where Hermione was time-traveling on her own. Patrick had seen the first movie but hadn’t read the books, and he’d insisted that Hermione never did anything cool without Harry and Ron. This had cut Katie to the quick, because she secretly (or so she believed) idolized Hermione. There was nothing wrong with being studious, or knowing things, and she thought Hermione saved the day at least as often as that doofus Harry. Though she supposed he was okay too, for a boy, and actually pretty cute in a geeky kind of way.
So she’d gotten the keys, but Uncle Stephen had made a big hairy deal out of making her promise to go directly to the car and come directly back, and he hadn’t kept his voice down either, so she was sure everybody in the restaurant had heard. Patrick had smirked at her humiliation, and so there had been just no way she could go back with Silly Man’s chocolate. And she just hadn’t time to talk to him anyway because she’d had to get back quickly, so Uncle Stephen wouldn’t embarrass her again.
Even when she’d heard Silly Man running behind her she hadn’t been frightened. She’d been thinking of Hermione and Patrick and Uncle Stephen and at first she’d just been mad because Silly Man was interfering with her when she was busy, and he should just eat the chocolate himself.
Then when she saw he’d dropped the chocolate and seemed serious about catching her, it got all mixed up in her head with that time with Kevin and the sack and the lake and she got mad again. When he started to get close she spun and threw the keys, though she pictured Uncle Stephen’s face in front of her when she did it and figured he would yell when he found out she’d lost them. But the keys were what she had, so they were what she used.
She ran diagonally away from him, because she knew she had to get back inside, somehow sure he wouldn’t hurt her except in darkness. But she fell down and he jumped on top of her, and the sight of his face transfixed her. He laughed, and he still looked like a nice guy, but his features flowed strangely, sort of behind the face she could see.
Suddenly she’d been sure it had to be some kind of magic, like maybe he had been possessed by a demon or something. Then he’d put that smelly rag on her face, and her last thought before passing out was that magic was real after all and Hermione would have known a spell to save herself.
When she woke up she didn’t know where she was. It was dark. Her neck hurt. Her hands were tied behind her, and her feet were tied together, and she was lying on her left side.
She still had her underthings on (including her new bra, and she blushed to think that Silly Man, only she thought now he was Crazy Man, had seen it and might have noticed she’d stuffed it with a little bit of toilet paper) but her shoes and her dress were missing.
A little bit of light came in from a window in the door. The room was about the size of her bedroom actually, and she was lying on some kind of thin carpet over what felt like slightly uneven boards. She had a pillow under her head, but the floor was hard and she thought maybe the carpet had bugs in it too, probably fleas, because she itched all over.
She could see a little better now. It looked like outside the door was just another big room with a window letting some street lights shine in, not like there were lights on inside or anything.
She started thumping the floor with her feet, and it sounded like maybe it was hollow or suspended in air instead of being right on the ground or a foundation or whatever, she didn’t know about buildings, but anyway it made this great big booming sound until suddenly she realized it might bring Crazy Man back and she froze, listening for footsteps or voices.
Hearing nothing, she closed her eyes and relaxed as much as she could and thought about what Hermione would do. Magic wasn’t an option, but with her hands tied Hermione wouldn’t be able to use a wand either, so that made them even.
She flopped (as quietly as she could) over on her right side because her muscles were cramping, and noticed her feet were now able to rub back and forth a little bit. Maybe it was all the thumping? And—her pulse quickened—maybe if she could loosen her hands the same way she could escape!
She started moving her hands back and forth as fast as she could, and moving her feet too when her arms got tired. It took a long time, but she was almost sure it was working. After a while she had to go to the bathroom so bad she couldn’t move any more without hurting, and eventually she was afraid she might burst something so she closed her eyes and just went. The liquid was shockingly warm, and when it dried she itched and chafed even more. And she was hungry, and her throat was parched, and her lips felt like they might split from desiccation. That had been one of her spelling-bee words. She’d come in second in the whole school. Desiccation.
But she kept going. She had to.
Later she fell asleep again, and when she woke up she had her feet free and the cord on her wrists felt noticeably looser. But the light from outside was brighter, and she was afraid she’d slept all night. She tried to sit up to look through the window and fell over. Her hands were tied to the floor, too, only she hadn’t noticed earlier.
Her legs cramped horribly. She sobbed once, but went back to moving her arms back and forth even though her wrists were raw. She had to get free, and soon.
Because otherwise Crazy Man would come back and find her there, and know she was trying to get away, and he might be mad at her.
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