Karen Blaine lay on the mattress in the tiny cabin and tried to free herself. In the locked room they hadn’t bothered to tie her, because they thought she couldn’t escape. Here, they kept her tied all the time.
The knot on the rope around her wrists wasn’t a good knot. She knew that from summer camp. Not that she’d tried to tie knots in camp, but that dweeb Ralphie did, the one all the kids knew was a loser. When Ralphie tried to tie a square knot he would tie a weak granny knot, which was like a square knot only it would come undone. And that’s the type of knot this was. She figured the big man must have tied it.
Karen fumbled with the knot, but it was hard working behind her back. With her wrists tied she could barely reach the rope, and she could only use one hand at a time.
What saved her was her fingernails. Her nails were backed by acrylics, a luxury she’d pampered herself with after breaking up with her boyfriend. It hadn’t made her feel better, but it was helping her now. She’d used her reinforced nails to get a purchase on the rope, and the badly tied knot was finally loosening. There was suddenly room between her wrists. Before she knew it she was slipping her hands out, rubbing her wrists to restore the circulation.
She drew her legs up to where she could reach the ropes around her ankles. She had them off in a minute. She placed them quietly on the mattress, sat up, looked around.
The Arab came in the door.
Karen flinched, expecting punishment, but he didn’t seem concerned. “Ah, you’re up. Good. We won’t have to untie you.”
The Arab was carrying the black satchel. He set it on the floor, stooped, and took something out. His back was to her, so she couldn’t tell what it was.
He stood and turned, and she gasped.
He had a scalpel!
And in horror Karen suddenly realized why they had brought her here to this remote spot.
No one would be able to hear her scream.