I’m sorry,she whispered in his mind.
For what?
For rushing out the window.
You thought your father was coming in.
Now I don’t even know. Was it him—or them?
He had no answer, but he was thankful for the strong mental link that was letting them speak directly to each other.
What matters now is escape.
Who are these men?
No idea. But we have to get away from them,he repeated,trying not to think of horrible possibilities. Unfortunately, he knew Stephanie was picking them up from his mind.
We have to get this tape off.
How?
Remember when you were trying to move that book?
It didn’t work.
Because we weren’t touching. We are now.
He tried to send reassurances along with the silent words. It would have worked better if his head weren’t throbbing from the banging against the floor of the van.
I’m going to work on the tape on my hands.
How?
I’m going to stretch it. You send me energy. I can’t explain exactly what that means. Just . . . maybe focus on what I’m doing.
He hadn’t done anything like this in years, and with Sam, it had always been for fun. Now his and Stephanie’s lives might depend on it.
When he heard her wince, he wished he had kept away from that last thought.
The van lurched, and he lost his concentration for a moment, then got it back and gritted his teeth as he struggled to focus on the job he had to do. He had only met Stephanie Swift a few days ago, and he expected her to help him with a mental task that seemed impossible on the face of it.
We can do it, she answered the unspoken thought.
He made a sound of agreement, not because he was entirely confident but because they had no choice. They had to get out of this mess.
The pounding in his head made it difficult to focus, but he kept at it. For minutes, nothing seemed to happen. Finally he felt some small measure of success—a tiny loosening of the bindings on his wrists.
Stephanie must have felt it too, because he felt her spurt of hope.
He worked at the tape, pulling on it with his mind and at the same time pulling his hands apart. It seemed to take centuries, but finally he could move his wrists a little apart.
He was almost too mentally exhausted to continue, but he kept at it, feeling more and more give in the tape, and finally he was able to wiggle his hands free.
As he rubbed his wrists, he glanced toward the front of the van and was relieved to see that the two men were both facing forward.
Reaching for Stephanie, he began to slowly pull the tape off her wrists. It was easier to work manually, and he quickly got her hands free. She breathed out a small sigh and brought her legs up so that she could work on the tape on her ankles. He did the same.
When his hands and legs were free, he eased the tape off his mouth, seeing that she was doing that too.
