Chapter 12

My chin was still on the floor gaping at the sacrifice Francis had made. “What the hell Francis!” I exclaimed before catching myself speaking too loud. “What are you doing? Why would you do that?” I whispered.

He pushed himself off the floor slowly, using only his legs. “I don’t know. I knew I had to do something but just sit here, waiting.” His face was still distressed and I thought I could see water in the corners of his eyes. Crazy, brave b*****d!

I pulled myself up using the bars as leverage. “Okay, there has got to be a way to get through these cages.” I paused for a second and looked around my own. It was wooden bars. Seeing nothing but dirt, I hoped maybe he would have better luck. I bit my lip and closed my eyes praying that he could somehow break out. My wish was in mid plea when I heard Francis again.

“Hey I found something.” I turned to see what that something was. My heart sprinted until I saw what he was holding.

“I don’t think a stick is going to help us much here.”

His eyes lit up. “No, but it can knock out a tiny fella who probably has the keys.”

“Francis you’re a genius!” I beamed at him.

He grabbed the cable with his forefingers avoiding using his thumbs. “I’m going to rewrap my hands. This time it will be loose enough to break free right before I hit him on the head and then we are out of here!”

I looked at my own hands. “Should I break my thumbs too?” I asked with hesitation hoping the answer wouldn’t be yes.

Francis glanced at my hands for a split second before answering, “No. If I can break free then I’ll be able to untie you. Plus it hurts like hell. I don’t want you going through that.” He was braver than I ever could be.

“Francis, I know this is terrible but I’m glad you’re here with me. I’m sorry, that’s so selfish to say, but I am.”

He cracked a smile. “Ditto Bon.”

Remembering the last thing I heard before everything went black, I asked, “What were you going to say yesterday?”

Francis was quiet for a full minute before sighing. “It was nothing.” The way he said it had an undertone of sorrow to it. Not wanting to push him, I didn’t ask any more questions.

We grew quiet after that. I deliberated what was happening back home. I wondered what my mother was thinking. Surely she was worried sick and Jetta and Bobby must be freaking out.

 I missed my piano. It was my safe zone when I was feeling stressed or lost. Playing the piano had become a sort of crutch for me. Ignoring the reality of any tough situation, I would practice until my fingers fell numb. My thoughts were interrupted when I felt something drip on my hand.

I looked down to see blood.