Chapter 47 part 1

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Chapter 47

She couldn't let herself break down.  She had to keep going, fight to get free.

Jess felt the panic and guilt start to build up again.  She had left Bryan outside her apartment and the man who had lied about being a doctor had kidnapped her, taken her to Harold like some kind of offering.  She didn't know where Bryan was, or if he even knew she was missing.

As she pushed the panic down, thoughts of William came back up.  He had done something in her apartment, with that nasty doctor.  He had done something that Jess didn't understand, and Bryan had seemed to believe that he wasn't crazy.  But now, William was dead.

She fought to keep her breathing under control, tried to focus on where she was, what she had to do.

She had only had a bit of time to feel her way around the room before the gunshots had started downstairs.  She'd seized the noise as an opportunity and wormed her wrists down low enough to slip them over her butt and to her front.  She silently thanked Sarah for dragging her to yoga classes, but the extra flexibility wouldn't help her with the zip tie around her wrists.  That part was going to hurt.

What she was about to do might even cut into her wrists, but that was better than being tied up and at the mercy of Harold and his insane companion.  She tightened her fists, levered the knuckles against each other and pressed.  She felt the plastic bite into the back of her wrists as she forced them outward.

Then, she tightened her abdominal muscles, raised her arms and brought them down hard and fast, her elbows moving back past her sides.

It didn't work.  Jess suppressed a curse and tightened again.

She lifted her arms up, brought her wrists down and into her stomach fast and hard.  The zip tie snapped under the sudden pressure and her arms whipped free.  She reached out, hands low and began to feel around again, reorienting herself.  The door was ahead to her right, with the bed in the way.  There was a desk and chair to the far left end of the room, opposite the door. 

She hurried to the desk and pulled out the chair.  Hiding the pieces would be the hard part, but if she could get most of them stashed behind the bed, it might be good enough.  She picked it up and crossed back to the outer wall near the bed.  The chair was heavy, ladder-backed and all wood.

There was another barrage of gunfire from down below.  Jess didn't know who they might be shooting at.  They had killed William and she was growing more worried by the minute for Bryan.  He might have found out she was missing and come after her.  That would mean they were shooting at him.

Before the gunshots ended, she found the outer brick wall and swung the chair against it.  It splintered and the knuckles of her right hand cracked into the brick wall.  She drew them back fast, but kept hold of the broken pieces of wood in her hands.  She shook the large splinters free and felt what she had left.  The one in her right had broken close to her hand, left her with a nine inch piece of wood with a jagged point.  The left side hadn't broken at all and she was left with a club nearly three feet long.

As she felt along the bed, she couldn't keep William out of her mind.  He had escaped from that place to keep her safe, hadn't he?  This was her fault.  He had come to her the night before, and yet again she hadn't believed in him. 

And why not?  Why hadn't she believed what he had told her about what he saw?  People told her about colors and she believed them.  She believed it when they told her that photographs were more than stiff, flat pieces of paper.  Why couldn't she have listened to that voice within that said he needed her, that she could help him?  She'd give anything to help him now, but it was too late.

She adjusted the sharp stake in her right hand and the club in her left.  Right hand out, she edged forward until she reached the door.  The gunfire stopped for a moment and she heard a crashing sound from down the hall.  She reached from the knob to the hinges, which were about a foot away from the side wall.  It would be a good place to hide.

She let the club droop, held the sharp stick up ready.  Whoever came in the door would get that first, then she'd grab the club with both hands and start swinging.

She hoped it would be Harold.

*

(Author's note:  Anybody have a thumbs up for Jess???  She's more than ready for what she thinks is coming...but read on to see what really happens to her when that door opens.  Thanks for the votes and comments!  It's great to talk to you all!)

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