Where There's A Will

Chapter Thirty-Six

Alice heard the motorbike engine start up and then quickly fade away, but the noise didn't register with her. Neither did the slow, measured footsteps that ascended the stairs, approaching her prison. It was the same with the noises that heralded the unlocking of the door; she heard the noises, and her brain recognised them for what they were, but it failed to realise the significance of what was happening.

Lost in the shame of having had to use a bucket as a toilet, a bucket that remained in the corner of the room, and from which came an unpleasant, though thankfully not overpowering, smell, Alice was oblivious to anything else. Compounding her shame was the feeling of being unclean – she hadn't had a shower in some time, nor had she been able to brush her teeth or change her clothes; she felt all the more unclean for not having been able to wash after using the bucket/toilet.

It wasn't until a pair of legs appeared before her that Alice came out of her reverie. Her eyes moved slowly up from the shins in front of her until she found the face of her kidnapper – it was the nicer of the two she had seen and the panic and fear that had caused her heart to race in her chest eased, a little. It eased a little more when she saw that he was holding a plate and a bottle of water.

Out the corner of her eye she saw that the door was slightly ajar; escape didn't even enter her limited thinking, though. The failure of her attempt to get away that morning, coupled with her hunger and a desperate thirst, both of which were exacerbated by the food and drink held by her captor, kept her glued to the spot.

"Are you going to be sensible?" Lewis asked when he saw that Alice was paying attention to him.

Alice tried to reply but found that she couldn't make her voice work, her mouth was too dry after going so long without anything to drink. She was forced to answer with a nod, while resisting the urge to reach out and snatch the food and drink from him, as her stomach was urging her to do.

"Good, I don't think you'd like what my partner would do to you if you were to try anything stupid again," Lewis told her as he set down the plate and bottle of water. Once he had done that, and keeping a careful eye on Alice, he collected the bucket, which he could tell from the smell needed emptying.

Alice was eating the sandwich he had brought her as he re-entered the room with the cleaned bucket. Her hand stopped halfway to her mouth when she saw him return. With suspicious eyes, which held more than a hint of fear, she watched him carry the bucket past her. He returned it to its corner and headed for the door, stopping when he saw something on the palm of the hand Alice was holding the sandwich with.

Not wanting to frighten her, he approached slowly and cautiously. Taking the sandwich from her, he put it out of the way, then he took her hand and turned it over so he could see the mark on her palm, a mark he was certain hadn't been there the previous day. The dried blood made him realise that Alice had injured herself, he just wasn't sure if it had happened that morning, when Crash stopped her escaping, or at some other point.

"I'll be back in a few moments," he said.

Lewis bolted the door behind him, not that he thought Alice would try and escape, she seemed too scared for that, and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. He had seen a first aid kit somewhere in there, but it took him a bit of looking to locate it again. Once he had it, he hurried back upstairs; it hadn't been long since Crash left, and he was sure it would be a while before he was back, but he didn't want to take a chance on him returning and finding out what he was doing.

"Here, give me your hand," he said, kneeling in front of Alice. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you." Despite his reassurance, Alice didn't move, he had to reach out and take her hand, turning it so the palm faced the ceiling and he could see the injury.

From the first-aid kit, Lewis took out a foil-wrapped disinfectant wipe. He tore open the wrapper and used the wipe to gently clean away the dried blood; when that was done, he saw that the injury was minor, a narrow and shallow cut that ran for about two inches along her palm. Since it wasn't serious, he decided that all it needed was a plaster.

"Thank you."

The gratitude was offered in a voice so low that Lewis wasn't certain he had heard it for a moment. He accepted it with a nod and then asked, "Do you need me to look at anything else while I'm here?"

"Why won't you let me go?" Alice asked as Lewis worked to remove the splinter that was under her fingernail.

"I can't," Lewis told her. He wanted to let her go, he wanted to take her downstairs and out to the barn, put her in the van and drive her home, he couldn't, though. It was cowardice that stopped him, he knew that, and the knowledge made him ashamed, but he was afraid of what his partner would do to him if he let Alice go. "I can't," he repeated. "If I let you go, they'll hurt me, and you." He succeeded in getting a grip on the splinter with the tweezers from the first aid kit and, slowly and carefully, began to pull it out. "You just have to be patient," he told her. "This will all be over tomorrow, then you'll be home safe with your family." As he said that, he couldn't help wondering how safe she would be, given how close to her home and family was Jim, who had planned and arranged the kidnapping. "Tomorrow night, your dad will pay the ransom, and after that you'll be free."