Chapter Thirty

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After a restless night, during which she slept fitfully, Alice struggled to keep herself calm – it wasn't an easy task, for she couldn't dispel the fear that her kidnappers had plans for her beyond collecting a ransom from her father. That fear was made worse by a combination of tiredness, hunger, thirst, and a need to go to the toilet.

It had occurred to her some time before – she wished she knew what the time was, and how long had passed since she was snatched; it was not helping her mental state to be in a timeless bubble – that the bucket was intended for use as a toilet. The idea was an unpleasant one, more than unpleasant, and she had quickly pushed it aside, refusing to give it space in her troubled mind.

She could see no way out of the room – she was sure her father's resourcefulness would have found a means of escape already, but, though she had always thought herself like him in that regard, she had failed – but the stubborn streak she had inherited, forced her to resist the urge to simply sit on the floor and wallow in her dark thoughts. It pushed her to her feet and forced her to walk up and down and around the room, so that she could keep herself physically ready in case an opportunity to escape presented itself.

Alice didn't know how many times it was she had circled the room when she heard footsteps on the stairs. She immediately stopped her pacing and took up a sitting position beneath the board that covered the window. It required no effort for her to assume a fearful and non-threatening pose - fear was the dominant emotion filling her; despite that, she was tensed and ready for action.

Thankful that Crash was still asleep, Lewis ascended the stairs. When he reached the top, he bent to put down the plate he was carrying so he could unlock the door. He saw Alice straight away, she had moved from the corner she had occupied the last time he was in there, but was still on the floor, her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped protectively around them.

"How are you this morning?" he asked solicitously. Approaching the teen, he set the sandwich he had made on the floor in front of her, along with a bottle of water.

There was no response from Alice, but that didn't surprise Lewis; if he had been her, he wouldn't have wanted to speak. "I hope you were able to sleep okay," he said as he looked around for the plate he had left the previous evening. He was pleased to see that Crash's negativity – he had suggested that Alice would attempt to use the plate as a weapon – was misplaced, the plate was still intact.

Alice watched her kidnapper put the food and bottle of water in front of her, and then followed him with her eyes as he made to collect the plate she had left in the corner. Out the corner of her eye she saw that the door was still open; it was her chance, she realised, and she quickly pushed herself to her feet and darted for the door. The moment she was through, she slammed the door shut behind her and slid home the bolt, then she hurried down the stairs.

Alice descended as rapidly as she could, heedless of the possibility that she might fall. Two and three at a time she took the stairs, all her focus on the front door she could see directly across from the foot of the staircase. Her hand was outstretched, reaching for the door even before she reached the ground floor.

Crash woke with a start, almost falling off the sofa he had been sleeping on as he sat up. It was only by grabbing at the back of the sofa that he was able to keep himself from tumbling to the floor. He heard thudding footsteps on the stairs as someone descended rapidly, and he quickly got to his feet to find out what was going on – the rapid tempo of the footsteps suggested trouble to him and he prepared himself to deal with it, whatever it might be.

He had barely made it to his feet when he saw Alice dart from the stairs to the front door. Not fully awake, it took Crash half a second to appreciate what he was seeing, and once he did he rushed from the living room, catching Alice as she pulled the door open.

"Where d'you think you're going?" he wanted to know as he flattened the teen against the door, forcing it closed with a bang.

Alice felt the air explode from her as she was squashed by the much heavier figure behind her, she also saw stars momentarily after her head impacted with the thick wood of the front door. She shook her head to clear it and struggled to get free, a fight she realised she had no chance of winning even as she twisted and writhed, trying, and failing, to drive her elbow into her assailant.

"That's enough of that," Crash declared. With little in the way of effort he secured Alice's wrists and, twisting her arms painfully up her back, pulled her away from the door. She tried again to get free as he guided her towards the stairs, but a quick tug on her arms persuaded her to give it up.

When he got to the top of the stairs, Crash held on to Alice with one hand, while with the other he reached out to unbolt the door and push it open.

Lewis' calls for help had subsided as he heard his partner ascend the stairs, but he reached out to snatch the door wide the moment it was unbolted and began to swing open. He was relieved to see that Crash had managed to keep Alice from escaping – he had a fertile imagination, but he didn't need it to realise that something unpleasant would have happened to him had the girl succeeded in escaping the house and making it to the road.

The relief he felt, which he was sure must have been visible on his face, was short-lived.

"What the hell happened, you bloody idiot?" Crash snarled as he pushed Alice into the room ahead of him. "If she'd been a little quieter, I wouldn't have woken, and she'd have gotten away." With an unnecessarily hard shove, he sent the schoolgirl sprawling; she landed face first with a sharp cry of pain, which he ignored.

"I was collecting the plate I left in here last night; she looked as though she was still in shock," Lewis said defensively.

He was embarrassed by the ease with which he had been tricked by the teen's apparent meekness, as well as by his failure to stop Alice before she could escape the room and bolt him in. In his mind, it only emphasised his inexperience when it came to criminal matters; he was a reluctant participant in this kidnapping, and with every passing moment he couldn't help wishing that he hadn't allowed his anger and greed to overcome his good sense.

Crash gave him a hard look, which spoke volumes. "You're a bloody idiot," he repeated, "and you're gonna screw this whole thing up." Stepping around Lewis he crossed to the sandwich and the bottle of water his partner had delivered, which he gathered up with a look that dared his partner to say something – he didn't.

Lewis kept silent in the face of the dark expression on Crash's face, which hinted at violence, and followed him from the room.

Afraid to move, but impelled by the needs of her body, Alice pushed herself up from the floor, first to her knees and then to her feet. "I need the toilet," she called out urgently as the door swung shut, threatening to leave her alone once again.

"That's what the bucket's for."

The door banged closed with an awful finality, and Alice turned hesitantly towards the bucket in the corner as she heard the bolt slide home and the key turn in the lock. Slowly, and with a great deal of reluctance, she approached the bucket, which seemed to become more horrible and more primitive the closer she got to it. With every step, she hoped and prayed that it was some kind of nasty trick, and that the door would be thrown open so she could be taken to a proper toilet, one with a seat, toilet paper, a flush, and a sink in which she could wash her hands once she was done.

Only when she reached the bucket, and had moved it away from the wall, did she accept that she would have to use it. With her face a mask of distaste, and her eyes on the door in case her captors should return to catch her at it, she reached under her skirt to pull down her underwear and then squatted unhappily over the bucket. She couldn't believe what she was being forced to do – being kidnapped was bad enough, but this seemed far worse; it was cruel and inhumane.

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