The control of our being is not unlike the combination of a safe. One turn of the knob rarely unlocks the safe; each advance and retreat is a step toward one’s final achievement.
—BRUCE LEE
Terrible things had happened to Jenny, but there was no time to pity her. I had to focus on getting out before he came back. Still, I tried to sound patient. “Come on, there must be something we could use to get it off. It’s only six screws.”
“Even if we were able to get the vent off, and somehow managed to climb out, we’d just be up on top of this thing.” Jenny pointed at the ceiling. “On top of a slippery plastic roof twelve feet above the ground with nothing to cushion us once we jumped—or fell—off. And even if we managed to get down without breaking an ankle, there’s Rex.” She put her hands to her scarred face. Her eyes peeped at me through the cracks between her fingers.
“I know you’re scared of the dog.” I also knew that was an understatement.
Her voice shook. “He’s been specially trained to kill people.”
Remembering the dog’s long, sharp teeth as he lunged at me through the door gap, I could believe it. Still I found the flaw in her argument. “If Rex is trained to kill people, then why hasn’t he killed that guy? Killed Sir?”
“Because he’s the one who trained him, only in some kind of foreign language like Dutch or German. But even if Rex didn’t kill us, he’d start barking and then Sir would catch us. And he’s got that Taser and the big knife on his belt.” She shivered, her fingertips tracing the red ridges of her face.
“It’s different now, Jenny. There’s two of us. With two of us, we have a real chance.” My words were as much for myself as they were for her. “A chance to get past the dog. A chance to escape even if Sir hears us. Besides, no matter what happens, we’re going to have to deal with him. Inside or out there. Whatever he’s planning for either of us can’t be good.”
I was so tired. My whole body ached, and my head felt like there was something inside that wanted out. Pressing the heels of my hands against my temples, I ignored the little voice that suggested I needed to lie down again.
“We can’t go out there.” Jenny shook her head, her face stubborn and set. “We’d die.”
I took a deep breath and made myself say the truth. “Face it, Jenny. All our choices probably end in death. It might just come down to how fast it is. And maybe faster would be better.” I couldn’t force Jenny to come with me. So I would have to leave her behind while I tried to go for help. “If you won’t go with me, at least help me get out so I can try. It’s better if I leave while it’s still dark. While Sir’s asleep and maybe the dog is, too.”
“Will you even fit?”
Ignoring how the room started to spin, I tipped my head back to measure the space with my eyes. The vent was a little more than a foot square. “I think I will if I put my hips on the diagonal.” I would do it even if I had to strip naked. Even if it left gouges in my flesh. When I dropped my gaze back to Jenny, a wave of dizziness rolled over me. With my good hand, I steadied myself on the wall.
Her dark eyebrows drew together. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lied. Everything hurt, and I was so tired. I forced myself to ask the question that had been circling in my thoughts like a shark. “Have there been other girls?”
“I don’t think so. And you’re the first person I’ve seen except Sir in the last ten months.”
I guessed that counted as good news. If we were the first two girls to get taken, then Sir hadn’t had a chance to get good at it.
I flipped the switch in the bathroom to get more light, then stood on tiptoe for a closer look at the screws.
The top of each one was marked with two grooves in the shape of a cross. “They’re uh”—I tried to remember the term—“Phillips head screws. And you’re sure you don’t have a screwdriver?”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you really think he’d let me have something I could stab him with?”
Sarcastic Jenny was better than freaked-out Jenny. “I’m assuming that means you also don’t have a table knife.” What else might fit in the groove? “Do you have a dime? Or wait—maybe I have one in my wallet.”
“I don’t have one, and neither do you.” Seeing my confusion, Jenny elaborated. “I looked in your wallet to figure out who you were, remember? All you have is two quarters and a nickel.”
It was weird to think about how she had gone through my things while I was unconscious. Maybe living like a caterpillar in a jar for the past ten months had made her forget the concept of privacy.
After retrieving my wallet, I still attempted to use the coins I had, but they didn’t fit in the slot. Next I tried to fit my library card into the cross. But the long straight edge was a tiny bit too wide, as was my Wilson ID card. My driver’s license fit but was too flimsy. When I tried to turn it, it just flexed.
Then my eyes fell on the CDs next to the boom box. “Maybe one of these would work.” With my good hand, I managed to open a CD case for a band I had never heard of. Four guys all with ridiculously overgrown beards.
She looked stricken. “But those are the only CDs I have.”
Jenny was really starting to get on my nerves. “If this works, I’ll buy you a million CDs. Besides, you’ll still have the tapes.” To demonstrate, I pressed the button for the boom box’s tape player. Instead of playing some greatest hit from 1985, what came out was a girl’s voice, high and pure, unaccompanied. The girl was singing about how she was going to fly away on a bright morning when life was over.
I pushed the button again to turn it off. I knew that voice. “Is that you?” I asked.
She looked away from me. “I’m in choir. Or at least I used to be. I record myself and then I play the song back and sing the harmony.” Her face colored, flushing the parts that weren’t already red. “It makes me feel less alone.”