Luis walked the room again, this time tidying his mess as he looked through what he had available to him.
Halfway through, the lock on the door disengaged. Luis went back to his cot in time for another two men to enter.
One had food and another bottle of water, while the other had a stack of blankets and a pillow for the cot. Luis took both without comment, trying his best to look cowed.
The men left, the door relocked. Luis went back to searching.
By the end, the best he’d come up with was an old metal grilling utensil. The thing was rusty though, bending in his hands. No way was it going to chip out cement.
The old springs of the cot squeaked as Luis sat back down, dejected. He needed something stronger. Something metal and thick. Something as sturdy as–
His eyes landed on the end of the cot. It had a metal footboard made of metal slats, one of which was crooked.
Luis leaned down and touched it. It was loose.
He jiggled it harder, and the bottom detached from the frame. Then it was just on by one rusty screw at the top.
Luis scrambled up and went back to one of the bins that had party supplies. Inside was a small manual can opener. Thetriangle puncher on it would be perfect for working an old screw loose.
It took long minutes and a lot of force to get the rusty screw turning, but Luis managed it. Slowly, the screw came out and then the bar of the bed footboard was free. It was heavy in his hands, sturdier than the grill utensil by a mile.
Quickly, Luis slid it under the cot and went about hiding the food like he’d eaten it. The sunlight was beginning to fade, and he had no idea if they’d be back before bed, but it was best to look like he was behaving. Like there was no need to check on him because he was going to sleep.
But it got darker and darker and no one came. Luis went to the door and knocked, banged at it on the pretense of asking to use the restroom, but no one answered.
He went back to the cot and laid down, waiting. He’d only have one shot at this, so he needed to be patient. Act when it was dark and they’d assumed he’d settled in for the night.
After a long time, Luis rose and got the chair, the footboard rung, and got to work.
Quickly, Luis found that the grate wasn’t embedded very deep into the stone. It was more like it had been inlaid and then concrete had been plastered on to hold it in place. It could be chiseled free with the metal rung.
It was still slow, exhausting work to keep his arms up like that. Every so often Luis had to take a break to shake the feeling back into them. He used the time to move the chair away and sweep the floor of the fallen concrete chips with an old broom. He didn’t think anyone was coming back to the room tonight, but it was best to keep it tidy just in case.
He chipped at the edges, slowly making his way all the way around. His arms burned and he sweat soaked through his shirt, and he kept going.
He could care about sore and tired later.
The longer it went on, the more nerve wracking it became. Every creak and groan of the old church bones made him jump and practically tumble off the chair just in case it was the door. It never was, but the fear of it was almost enough to make him sick.
Luis felt himself start to fray; body exhausted as the adrenaline high-alert made him jittery.
He kept going.
Then finally, Luis was at the bottom edge, and with three sides done he decided to test if the grate could be leveraged the rest of the way out to save time.
Before the attempt, Luis got down to shake out his arms, and then sweep away the mess again. He was panting, overheating, and desperate for water, but every time he glanced in the direction where he’d stowed the water bottle, he remembered the bar. Eric’s smile.
No.
When he was ready as ready as he could be, Luis took a deep breath, moved the chair back into place and got up. He shoved the thin end of the bed rung into one of the grate holes, and used it like one would a pry bar.
More concrete debris rained down as he began to leverage the last side out.
There was a loud, metal sound when the corner came free from the cement. Luis shuddered, glancing at the door. Stop or keep going?
The fear made him keep going. He was so close now.
Carefully, Luis stuck fingers into the grate, and tested pulling it back. A rupture of concrete came free, the grate almost out of the wall. He forced himself to breathe through the dizzying hope.
