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Shona sat with Davy in the storeroom two doors down the long corridor, her back chocked against a box of who-knows-what. She shook—shaking to her core. Her hands trembled as she hugged herself. She could still feel the pinch of the creep’s hand on her breast.
Bastard.
“You okay, Shona?”
“What do you think?” she snapped back, and then took a breath. Davy was only being nice. Concerned. Or scared he was next with whatever they were doing to Martin. Thuds echoed down the hall. There had been groans, but they’d stopped now.
Davy swallowed hard.
Silence from the kitchen.
Murmurs from the room beside them.
It was like the whole house was listening to Martin’s punishment.
Footsteps paused outside the door of the room that was now their cell. The door opened and Martin landed on the floor. He was barely conscious as he rolled onto his side and moaned. Shona scooted beside him.
“Martin?” Shona touched his shoulder. He flinched and gasped.
“Davy, help me,” she whispered. “Unpack those blankets over there.”
Davy stepped up and ripped the plastic off two of the bundles, and placed the cotton blankets, double folded length ways, on the floor. He came over and took Martin under one arm and Shona took him under the other. Martin groaned awake while they stood him and stepped him to the blankets.
“Lie down here, Martin.” Shona helped him lie front down.
The back of his shirt was ripped in places and blood oozed through. Damp, dark patches also spotted his trousers. Shona gasped.
“Get me a new blanket, Davy. Don’t open it.” She leaned closer to Martin’s ear. “I’ll have to tend to your wounds, Martin.”
“No, don’t.” Martin lifted his head, started, then rested it down again, the side of his face with the healing yellow bruise uppermost. “You’ll not be able to clean it. Just leave it. I’m not bleeding to death, am I?”
“No.” Her voice was small. “I’m sorry, Martin.” She touched his arm. He winced, his face crinkled at the brow and his mouth a grimace.
“Why?” Martin breathed deeply. “It’s not your fault that creep molested you.” His voice muffled into the blankets.
Davy placed the unopened blanket bag next to her. “I found some orange juice. You should drink something, Martin.” He placed the small carton of juice beside Martin.
“We have to get out of here.” Martin spoke deep and low.
“You’re in no state—” Shona began.
“But I will be soon. Then we’re going.” Martin’s arm lay by his thigh, near where she squatted beside him. His fingers pressed together and gave a soft click.
“How?” Davy asked. “Didn’t you try that already? Wasn’t that how you got your black eye?”
Martin’s fingers continued to click. Shona’s heartbeat echoed in her chest. The clicking—she’d seen Martin do that when his mind was working.
“What’s in the boxes in this room?” Martin asked.
Davy rummaged around looking in the boxes, crates, and tubs that filled the room except for the small space they occupied by the door.
“Quietly,” Shona whispered.
Martin closed his eyes. Shona brushed his shoulder-length hair away from his face and tucked it behind his ear. His tufty beard was endearing, somehow. He was reasonably handsome. No stunner, but boy did he have brains. She’d never met anyone so smart, nor found brains attractive before.
But he was. And he had guts. He’d stopped that creep.
Shona’s chest shook as weeping welled up in her once more. She turned her head away. She wouldn’t let Martin hear her cry.
“It’s okay, Shona. We’re getting out of here.” He reached his hand up and touched her back, warm and gentle. “Do you feel that breeze coming through the crack at the bottom of the door?”
Shona faced the door. Coolness caressed her cheek. “Aye.”
“That’s coming from the broken wall of the house. In the room opposite. It’s our way out.”
Davy scuttled back to them. “I’ve found torches.” He smothered his excitement to a squeaky whisper. “And fresh clothes. We’ve been in our clothes for over two weeks. And well, Martin’s have had it now.” He glanced down at Martin’s back. The bloodstains had stopped expanding. “Are you sure we can do this?”
“We’ve got to.” Martin breathed a little more evenly, his fingers resumed their quiet, slow clicking.
Davy looked at Shona, brows crinkled together.
“Aye, we must,” she spoke to Davy, but her eyes returned to Martin’s bruised face. “Declan’s got it in for him. He won’t be happy until he does some permanent damage.” She snapped her head up. “Besides, no one has the right to own another human being. No one!” She clenched her hands into fists. “I’ll be no man’s slave. And neither will you.”
“What about them?” With a nod, Davy indicated the room next door but one, where they’d housed the new captives.
“We’ll send someone back for them. They’ll hinder our escape. We must be silent when we leave.” Martin’s gruff whisper settled the matter. “The guards do a round near midnight but are pretty slack because, so far, we’ve behaved ourselves at night.”
“But not tonight.” Shona leaned down and pressed her lips gently on Martin’s cheek. He turned to look at her, his eyes wide and lips parted. She smiled and stood, emotions swirling, and went and chose some clothing for herself and Martin.
Martin regained his strength by the moment. He’d told Davy to keep one torch and look for a knife and duct tape. Davy found them in a box full of stuff that looked like it came from a camping shop. Footsteps passed the door close to midnight. Then all was silent for another hour. Martin sat up and put a shirt on straight over his own bloodied one. Shona handed him a larger size dark coat. She and Davy had already dressed.
“Follow me and do not speak,” Martin whispered then he got on his hands and knees and crawled to the door. In the door jamb at floor level was a piece of flat metal. The door hadn’t closed properly and therefore not locked. It now opened with ease. Behind Shona, Davy took a breath to speak. She spun and clamped her hand on his mouth. He nodded. She took her hand away.
Shona turned to Martin, a smile tugging her mouth at his brilliance. How had Martin thought to do that on the way back from a thrashing?
Martin checked all was clear, then led them across the hallway and into the opposite room. Lloyd’s men had covered the broken wall with tarpaulins in a rough manner. The wind blew cool through the gaps in the tarps. Martin stuck his head through the tarps and checked once more for guards. He brought his head back in, smiling, and took out the pocketknife they’d got from the stores. Shona was thankful their captors hadn’t thought that one through when they hastily changed their cells.
After widening the gap, Martin eased himself through, a grimace crossing his face. Shona followed, staying close to the wall as Davy made his way out. Martin pulled the tarp closed behind them and pinched it tightly with some tape from the camping boxes.