Well, that question was answered. I couldn’t fly.
Six fifty nine - only sixteen minutes left.
I doubted if there was a staircase leading from the balcony to the ground. How was I going to get out of here?
Retreating to the closet, I stared at his collection of suits. How could one man wear so many clothes? I counted three dozen jackets before I gave up. And ties? The man must have had a hundred ties.
I smiled as I grabbed an armful of them and entered the bedroom again, tossing them on the loveseat. I made two more trips until I had as many as I thought I’d need.
I began to knot one tie to the end of another. I’d done well in Girl Scouts and could tie any knot. Who knew such a talent would actually come in handy one day?
My rope of ties stretched a good twenty feet, enough I could shimmy from a second floor perch. Wasn’t silk considered one of the strongest fibers? I thought each floor in a building was ten feet so I should have enough.
I dumped the rope tie by the window, returning to the nightstand and checking the time. It had taken longer than I’d estimated to knot all the ties together.
Seven fifteen - I had to open the shutters now.
My stomach was as knotted as the ties, my pulse beating like I was alive and terrified. My finger hovered over the button.
Please, let me get out of here.
I knew I was praying to God. Whether or not He acknowledged it was His business.
I pushed the button.
C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-F
OUR
Just a vamp in the woods
Once again, I was amazed at the silence of metal shutters. I could barely hear them as they peeled back and folded onto themselves, then slid into their housing at the side of each window.
Bright sunlight flooded the room. God’s sign of Grace. Either that, or His illumination of me prior to being burned to a crisp.
I stood there, eyes closed, but didn’t hear a sizzle. Nor did I feel any pain.
The next test came when I unlocked the door to the patio and slid it a little to the right. No sirens screamed. I didn’t hear any footsteps racing through the hall but I doubted I would. Maddock’s house was probably noise proof. The better to suck the blood of the unwilling.
Or chemically rape a woman.
Still, no one entered the room.
I peered outside and felt my heart drop to my ankles. All my hoping had been in vain. We were higher than the second floor. Much, much higher.
Stepping out onto the balcony, I looked around. In the distance I could see Randolph Air Force Base and the Taj Mahal, the nickname for its distinctive water tower located at the end of the main drag. I knew exactly where I was, about five miles from my home.
All my life I’d seen this house, marveled at its Spanish Colonial architecture. I’d wondered who lived in such a grand place perched on a hill. Now I knew just as I realized my escape was going to be even more perilous than I imagined.
What the hell. I had to try.
I grabbed the tie rope and threw it on the balcony.
I wish Maddock had smaller feet so I could have worn a pair of his Nikes, but I was going to have to climb barefoot. While I was wishing, I might as well wish for the ability to transform into a bird for real. That would come in handy right about now.
The earth undulated around the house, carefully landscaped to appear rustic and untamed. On the east side, a bluff rose up, cradling the back of the house. I took the rope and moved to the balcony on that side, knowing my chances of reaching the ground before I reached the end of the rope would be greater here.
At least the view was only of grass and earth and trees. No outbuildings were visible at the side of the house. Nor would anyone arriving for work see me.
I knotted the first tie on the balcony railing, reached for the end of my rope and tied it around my waist. After checking the knots again and a third time, I swung my leg over the balcony and sat there, straddling the iron railing.
Terrified isn’t quite the word I’d use. Nauseous? Yes. Shaky? Definitely. My knees were wobbling. My blood pressure, always normal until now, was rising. Silent killer, my ass. I could feel it.
I swung my other leg over, deliberately not looking down. However long the drop, I had to make it down the side of the house.
I would cross in front of two floors of windows on my way down. Hopefully, nobody would be working inside and see me. Hopefully, the shutters would be up on those windows and the inhabitants would be terrified of opening them, even if someone screamed directly outside their window.
Rule number two for escaping: no screaming.
My hands were clammy so I wiped them, one at a time, on Maddock’s altered sweatpants. Moving closer to the wall, I dropped one foot into the air, feeling the knot tighten in my hands.
I couldn’t do this.
I had to do this.
It’s called stepping out on faith and I did it, biting my lips to stifle my yelp as I twirled in the air, my hands sliding too fast on the silk ties. My stomach lurched so much that, if I’d eaten anything, it would have said hello again.
I closed my eyes as I slid down across the first window, then opened them to find myself facing a set of shutters. My stomach unclenched a little, enough for me to slide down a few more feet.
My hands were burning. I hadn’t thought about gloves, but I should have. I’m certain Maddock has a dozen or more pairs in that house sized closet of his.
But at least I wasn’t burning. The sun was warm on my face, warmer on my back, but I didn’t feel like I was blistering.
I braced my foot on the pediment above the lower window, looking down and into the room. I couldn’t see much because of the sun sparkling off the glass. I was going to have to chance it.
I lowered myself a few more feet, my bare feet braced against the adobe-like wall. Nothing like a little bare flesh to give you traction. I’m sure I was leaving bits of me on every surface.
I slid down more, my foot landing on the pane of glass. Oh, great. If I had been invisible before I wasn’t now.
I bounced off the glass, trying to rappel the rest of the way. Halfway down the window I looked up, to find myself face to face with a scowling middle aged woman. She glanced over her shoulder at someone, no doubt calling out the calvary.
I opted for a smile, a wave of two fingers and letting the silk of the ties abrade my palms as I slid down even faster.
My pulse was reaching stratospheric heights. My palms were bleeding. A lump in my throat was nearly choking me.
Beyond the window I had another problem.
I’d reached the end of the rope, but not the ground. Well, so much for planning. The rope slid tight under my arms. I couldn’t even jump until I cut myself free.
Unless I did, I was spinning here until I was caught.
As far as options, there weren’t many. The sweatpants I’d appropriated didn’t have any pockets and I hadn’t thought far enough ahead to tuck the manicure scissors somewhere on me. I couldn’t gnaw myself free although I was giving it some serious thought.
I had to do something quickly.
I could see myself falling, landing on something soft as a cloud. My arms were released. I could scamper up and run like the devil was after me which wasn’t a bad assessment of my situation.
When I opened my eyes, however, I was still a puppet dangling from a rope of ties.
Being a Dirugu wasn’t panning out.
Suddenly I fell, the descent so fast I barely had a chance to register it before I was rolling down the slope of the hill.
I looked up to see a half dozen ties still hanging from the balcony. Maybe I should surrender my Girl Scout knot tying badge.
I wrestled with the rope around my chest, not managing to loosen it, but not caring at this point. I had to get out of here. I gathered up the rest of the rope, wound it around my waist and edged around the building.
The woman was going to report me. In seconds there would be a hue and cry. My luck, they’d have bloodhounds.
Instead of heading toward the front of the house, I ran toward the woods, changing my mind the minute my bare feet hit the trail. The pine needles were like swords to the bottom of my bare feet.
I couldn’t walk in the undergrowth either. I had no choice but to backtrack. Below me and to the right was a garage filled with cars, all of them expensive. I could swear I saw a Silver Cloud Rolls Royce in one of the bays.
No one was around. Nobody ran from the house shouting there was an intruder, an escaped prisoner, or a demented woman headed their way. I crouched down and scurried across the grass and over the road like a cockroach, taking cover in a drainage ditch.
In my escape from Mattock’s house, I hadn’t thought about being exposed to the sun for so long. Once I was on the other side of the expressway, I checked for burns. My face felt hot, but other than a faint pinkness on my arms I looked, for lack of a better word, normal.
I glanced up at the sky, not the least surprised to see massive dark clouds scuttling toward me. A rainy day would protect my skin from burning, but it would make a gully of the drainage ditch.
Someone up there had a seriously sucky sense of humor.
The sound of a truck made me huddle against the slope of earth. Time stretches when you’re scared, elongates exponentially. I don’t know if it was a minute or ten, but it felt like an eternity. I didn’t hear the truck accelerate. Instead, it sounded like the driver was coasting along the road slowly. No doubt looking for me.
I’d made it this far. I was going to make it the rest of the way or die trying.
Where did I go, though? Home? My townhouse was the first place Maddock would look for me. Nonnie wouldn’t give me sanctuary. Neither would my mother.
I heard footsteps and looked around for a weapon. I hefted a rock in my hand, something clunky with sharp edges and enough weight to do some damage.
As I was gearing myself up to act like David to my pursuer’s Goliath, the footsteps stopped.
When I heard the truck start up again, I crept down the ditch until it ran beneath the highway. I knew where I was. IH-35, a parking lot between San Antonio and Austin. I didn’t have any other choice but to cross it, thanking God it was so early. As it was, I was taking my life in my hands as I ran barefoot across the burning pavement.
Whenever a car came along, I ducked into the ditch beside the road. My feet were cut but they were healing quickly just as my palms had. My nose was getting a sunburn and creepy crawly things had managed to infiltrate the sweatpants and were biting the heck out of me. If I could heal so fast, why couldn’t I stop mosquito bites from driving me nuts?
I managed to loosen the rope ties around my waist, stepping out of the body noose and leaving the ties tucked into a culvert.
I would have given a week of my life for a cell phone. Scratch that. I would have given even more for someone to call. Still, I was heading for home like a carrier pigeon too tired to reason it out or care.
I’d barricade myself in my house with Mutt. I’d keep him safe and he’d protect me as well. I’d handle this entire situation one day at a time. Everything else would have to wait.
“Marcie!”
I stopped in my tracks. A second later I began to run, diving for the deep cover of the brush. Unfortunately, this ditch had standing water.
And bullfrogs.
C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-F
IVE