Magnus’s voice through the darkness, “Ye are well, Kaitlyn?”
It took me a beat to get my breath back, but then I said, “Yeah, yeah, fine. It was just a…” I felt a piece of vertical wood. “…a stud where I—” Something sliced the pad of my left middle finger. “Ow, shit, I sliced myself.”
It was instantly damp, that was going to be...
Magnus asked, “Tis bad?”
“Let me see... or rather, I can’t see, let me... hold on.” I wrapped my hand in my skirt and held it tight. Then I put it in my mouth for a second. It was still bleeding. I put the finger back against my skirt. “It’s not bleeding much, it’s going to be okay, I think.”
“I will kill him.”
“But the good news, there’s something sharp near here, bad news, it bites.” I added, “Let me use the force... see if I can figure it out without getting cut again.”
Magnus said, “The force like in Star Wars.”
“I can see you are a good modern boy.”
“Ye canna see anything, tis why ye are usin’ the force.”
I chuckled and used my foot to prod around. I was in a corner. I felt along the bottom of the walls, keeping my face well away, and established that about two feet up was where the sharp thing was situated.
I wadded up my skirts and carefully reached forward, making small swipes and tentative juts until I felt something out of place and homed in on it. I came in from the side and figured out it was hard and flat, the sharp place was pointing left. Then I figured out I could lower my bundled hand down the length of… it was a blade, a long blade, and then finally a handle.
I whispered, “There’s a machete right here, it’s a gardening implement, I think, stored between the studs. It’s blade up though, the handle is down, it’s not going to be easy to get out.” I added, “Man, it is dark, wish my eyes would adjust.”
“Aye. Maybe ye daena hae tae get it out, could I just rub the bindings against the blade?”
“I don’t think so, it’s too… how much room do you have between your wrists for a blade?”
“Barely any light between them.”
“Yeah, we’re not doing that, I’m going to get this knife out of the wall. I’m going to be very slow and cautious, the kind of slow and cautious that means no one gets hurt.”
I crouched and moved slow like in tai-chi. “Slowly… slooowwwwlllly…” I added, “Can you step back just a bit?”
He did, but asked, “How come, if ye are being cautious?”
“Because I changed my mind.” I reached out and with the fabric around my hand, grabbed where I assumed the handle was. I lift-tossed it up — it dropped back.
“Trying again, one, two, three…” I lift-tossed it, knocked it away from the wall, and jumped back. The machete flipped out and clattered to the ground.
We both listened.
There was nothing but the sounds of someone going,oh, oh, oh, oh,and a man goinggrunt grunt. “How long will that last?”
“Depends on how drunk he is.” He put his foot out to feel the blade, where it was, tapping back and forth and then he reached down and with the machete in his hand said, “Here, hold it out like this. Daena move it. I am going tae put m’wrists against the blade.”
I held it in both hands. I held it as still as I could.
He was close, his breathing shallow with exertion as he worked on the bindings.
He asked, “Tis alright, ye hae it?”
I said, “Yeah, go for it, I got it.” The end of the blade went up and down against his force. I wished I could hold it more securely, but I did my best. Finally there was a strong downward push,
He said, “I am free.”
“Oh thank God.” He put his arm around my shoulders, feeling down my arm, and pulled the knife from my hand. “I will hide the blade, how is yer finger?”
