Death Angel

FORTY-TWO

“What have you stuffed in your pockets?” he asked. He was standing in front of me again, reaching for the noose. “They’re bulging.”

Wicks patted me down, finding and removing the small silver objects with which I’d hoped to defend myself.

He dropped them on the ground, then stood squarely in front of me and smacked me across the face. “They belong to Lucy, you fool.”

I tried to lift my bound hands to my cheek, to lessen the sting, but Wicks grabbed them and held them directly in front of me.

“This is going to be painful for you, I know.”

“And what is it about watching me die that you’re looking forward to?” I asked. “Will that excite you?”

“Nothing about watching you excites me. I want to see how much it hurts you so I’ll know how much it will hurt me. The slower it is, the better,” Wicks said. “I’d kill my mother, too, if I could.”

“Your mother?”

“She made the scarf for Lucy. If she hadn’t made the damn thing in the first place, the child would still be alive.”

Wicks looked down to see why the platform was shaking so violently on the uneven ground of the cave floor. He leaned over and put his hand on it to steady it for his coup de grâce.

The moment he did-just as he started to straighten up-I lifted my hands over my head, seizing the noose and launching myself in the air, bringing my knees up behind me and then kicking my legs forward with all the strength I could muster.

Eddie Wicks doubled over. I swung back and forth, clutching the fabric-covered rope between my fingers-pumping my legs like a child on a swing-and this time I brought my feet up, scoring a hit directly in my captor’s groin.

He howled in pain, falling to the ground and rolling onto his back.

I lowered myself onto the platform. Although my hands were still tied, I was able to pull apart the binds on my legs, the ones I had been stretching before Wicks came back to get me.

I walked to the rock wall and rubbed the restraints on my hands against it for several seconds, till they tore in half and I was loose.

I guided myself back to the lower floor, running my hand along the cold stones. I had to try to uncover the entrance again, though I didn’t know how long it would take Wicks to get to his feet.

I ran back over to the silver pieces on the floor beside Lucy’s bones. I picked up the statue of the Bethesda angel and stuck her in my waistband.

Then I turned to the business of trying to move the boulders.

I was frantic and had no reason to be quiet. I reached for the one on top and dislodged it after pulling on it for almost a minute, stepping out of the way so that it fell to the ground with a loud thud.

I heard a noise and looked over my shoulder, but I figured it was Wicks still moaning, still recovering from my powerful kick.

The second and third rocks were somewhat easier to move. I pushed and pulled on them until both fell outside the cave, crashing down against other boulders, splashing into the stream of the Gill.

The hole was too small for me to exit easily. It was still light outside, so I took deep breaths, wiping the dirt from my mouth as I tried to calm myself. The last thing I needed was to get stuck trying to make my escape.

I struggled with the next two rocks-both very large-and seemed only to be making progress with one of them when I heard Wicks, coughing, coming down the incline.

“Don’t come near me,” I said. My hands shook, slowing me down, but nothing could dampen my determination to get out of this dank space.

There was still fabric wrapped around Wicks’s hands. I was sure he would try to bind it around my neck if he could get close enough.

“You’ll die here with me,” he said, reaching out both arms to me.

I stepped up onto one of the boulders that had tumbled to the ground. He tried to grab me, but its surface was so uneven that I slid backward and he missed.

When I found my balance seconds later, I reached for the silver statue, tucked under my shirt in the waistband of my jeans.

In a single motion, I swept her up above me and brought her down squarely on the top of Eddie Wicks’s head. He screamed out in rage-not words, but like a beast that had been felled by a hunter. I smashed it against his skull again, knocking him to the ground and opening a wound that bled freely onto the dirt.

I didn’t care about making the hole in the rocks any larger. I hoisted myself up onto one of the higher boulders and pushed out onto the ledge leading through the opening.

I screamed for help as loudly as I could while I lowered myself headfirst against the rough surface of the cave’s exterior. When the large tree limb seemed within reach, I grabbed it and clung to it with both hands, righted myself, and came to rest on a small precipice to the side of stone steps-the ones that had first appealed to my curiosity.

Barefoot and bruised, I made my way down that primitive staircase, crossed the stream, and stepped back into my driving moccasins.

The path was empty, and my scream hadn’t drawn anyone to my aid. Mindful of the lampposts and the guidance they provided to get me out of the Ramble, I ran as fast as I could downhill to extricate myself from this deadly maze.