Chapter 47
“WWWD?”
-Celia
The pain in my neck and back woke me up. For a split second, I thought I fell asleep in the car back to Florida, then reality reared back and bitch-slapped me.
You heard me. I said bitch-slapped.
I figure if I’m about to die, I might as well have some fun with salty language.
I squeezed my shoulders up to my ears, then released, in an attempt to relieve the pressure and cramps of falling asleep, tied up in a barn.
Yeah. A fuc…fine. A flipping barn.
Dang. The cussing was fun while it lasted.
Sonni brought me to the barn in darkness, then tied me up before I passed out. There was something seriously wrong with me, but I had to get out of my current mess before figuring out what was causing my illness.
One thing about being related to Wysdom Ward - that woman always got herself tied up into trouble. And she had all kinds of training to get out of it. All I had to do was channel my sister-in-law.
Step one - assess the situation.
Rope tied my hands together in front of me. Big mistake, bad person! Huge! But, another rope tied my hand rope to a pole encased in concrete. Not so great.
I looked around for something to cut the ropes. A nearby wall held all sorts of antique farm implements. The pole I was tied to curved back into the ground, restricting me from standing completely, so I got to my knees and tried to reach the nearest sharp tool. My fingers scrabbled at the wall, but nothing came free. They were too far up to help me.
Step two - find another path.
I leaned back on my feet and looked toward the other side of the barn. The scent of moldy, dusty hay hit my nose, and I sneezed. Five times in a row.
Super helpful, I know.
What would Wysdom do?
WWWD?
I should get that put on a bracelet or something.
Focus! Focus! Focus!
I tugged at my hair, hoping the pain would help me get my stuffing together. Unfortunately, a clump of hair came loose in my hand. Not good. Not good at all.
I looked back at the ropes. WWWD?
Wysdom and Luke adopted two adorable children who, unfortunately, had been victims of child trafficking. One of the things they did as a family was learn how to get out of knots and dangerous situations then go for help. Ruston, their oldest son, spent an entire Saturday showing me how to use his shoelace to get out of zip ties.
I stared at my hands. No zip ties. And no shoelaces on my boots either.
He taught me something else, though.
The ropes that bound my wrists had slack in them. There was also enough play in the rope that tied my hands to the pole.
This I could do.
I rubbed my wrists together, forcing the pole rope to move up between my wrists. When there was enough of a loop between my wrists, I tilted my right hand down, slipped it through the loop, and pushed my right hand through, freeing me from the pole.
Halle-freaking-lujah!
