There is no time to explain. I'm pretty sure Lassie never chewed up shoes or ate used condoms, but I don’t have Lassie, I have Frankie. And I've got to do the best I can. "Frankie," I say in a super sweet voice. "Go find Spencer," I coax.
Amazingly, she stops digging. Pete lifts one eyebrow my direction and gives me half a shrug. I'm tempted to use an, "I told you so," but I'm as surprised as he is that she actually listened.
Except she didn't.
The digging picks up on the other side of the door, her claws hitting the metal of the hinges. "Frankie, no."
My demand does no good. My arms finally give out, and I drop the door, pumping my shoulders to get ready for another push when the digging turns to a scraping—a heavy item being dragged across the cellar door.
Is it possible the dog who ate a bar of soap has just pulled whatever they're using to block the door away?
It's silent for a few beats. My heart thumps the only sound I distinguish in the quiet. I count to five, just to be safe, and then push again.
This time it goes up. Not all the way, but definitely higher than before.
I turn back to Pete. "Okay, I'm going to get this open and then we have to get out fast." There's no way I can hold it long enough for us to escape,and getting it all the way open is not going to happen quietly.
Pete shakes his head. "Don't worry about me. Get out and find help."
"I will not leave you here." I allow the door to drop and then, with a burst of energy, I jump, my hands straight out above me. They make contact with the door, and it swings forward. With one last push, it sweeps past the middle mark, falling the rest of the way open.
There isn’t time for celebration.
My arms are weak, but without stopping to take a break, I lunge for the top. With enough ground underneath me, I kick and pull myself to the surface in some form of demented Army crawl, using mostly my elbows.
"Pete, come on."
He doesn't budge. "I told you to leave me. I'll only hold you up."
I lean over and stick both hands back in the hole. "I'm not leaving you, and that's all there is to it. So hurry up."
His eyes light up, and he shakes his head, yet I swear I hear him mumble something about stubborn women. Eventually, Pete moves faster than I’ve ever seen him. He's older, but also taller, which is helpful. Pete’s hand sticks out above the hole when he steps on the crate and lifts his arms. My hands make contact and I pull his heavy body up as he kicks at the dirt doing his best to help.
When he makes it to the surface, I roll over, my lungs gasping for each breath as I stare at the tops of the leafless trees. There isn't time to do more than that. We need to be on our way and far from the cabin as soon as possible. I get to my knees, ready to help Pete, when a twig breaks on the forest floor behind me.
"Put your hands in the air," a deep male voice commands.
I let out a sigh and drop my head. All that work for nothing.
There’s a clicking behind me—one I haven’t heard enough to be sure about, but I’ve watched enough TV to consider the possibility it’s a gun. Another twig snaps.
"Don't shoot!" Pete yells from somewhere sounding far off in the distance. Or maybe I’m losing it.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Drop your weapon!" The same voice yells, and I slowly realize it's not Pete. "Drop the weapon!"
I freeze. This is beyond a high-intense situation of delivering a baby or working in the ER. This time, my life is on the line, and I'm not sure which weapon I should drop in order to save it since I’m not carrying one.
"Damn it, Rodgers. Drop your fucking gun, or I will shoot you." An out-of-breath, no-longer-mysterious voice screams from behind.
"Spencer?"
I'm pushed forward, the palms of my hands receiving fresh scrapes from the rocky ground. Big, strong arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me up and twisting me around until we’re chest to chest. I do my best to beat on my attacker’s chest and kick at his shins, doing anything I can to get away.
"Shhh. It's okay, baby. I've got you." His arms tighten around my shoulders, stopping my onslaught.
I finally take the time to look up and find myself locked with Spencer’s deep brown eyes. "Spencer?" His name squeaks out, and I break out in tears. "Oh my God. I'm so glad it's you.”
