“This is it,” Quincy said to his men as he sat down with them around the fire. “Our last night before we cross into the desert. Sleep well and fill your bellies with water. The next couple of days are going to be rough.”
“The desert,” Isabelle whispered, her eyes wide with worry.
They were in the back of the wagon, where they had spent the last week. They were only allowed out to relieve themselves and stretch their legs three times a day—after breakfast, after dinner, and after supper. So far, the men had mostly left them alone. Isabelle was grateful for that, but it didn’t make any sense. Everybody knew what bandits did to women. It was only a matter of time, and Isabelle was determined to get away before that happened.
“We have to escape tonight,” Isabelle stated, her voice barely a whisper.
Sarah nodded in agreement. “Okay.”
The men left Isabelle and Sarah to sleep in the covered wagon at night while they slept outside on bedrolls. The problem was that Isabelle’s and Sarah’s wrists were still tied, and there were always men watching the wagon. Isabelle had been watching them, too, though. They took turns standing guard, and during the early morning hours, they didn’t pay much attention to the wagon. Maybe it was because they were tired, or maybe they simply didn’t expect them to try to escape. Whichever way, Isabelle was planning to use it to her advantage.
She had another trick up her sleeve, too. Two days ago, one of the men had forgotten his pocketknife in the wagon. It was a small, rusty thing, but it would cut. Isabelle had snatched it up and hidden it in her boot. It was uncomfortable, but that didn’t matter under the circumstances. All that mattered was getting Sarah to safety.
“What’s the plan?” Sarah asked, her eyes flickering between Isabelle and the opening in the canvas. It had been pulled shut so that they couldn’t see outside, but the men were loud enough to hear them moving about.
“We wait till early morning,” Isabelle instructed.
Sarah tilted her head to the side, clearly confused.
“Trust me,” Isabelle whispered, leaning in close. “I have a plan.”
“Okay,” Sarah breathed, looking both worried and hopeful simultaneously.
The night dragged by slowly, but they had to be patient. If they made their move too early, they’d be in a lot of trouble. Escaping was a huge risk, even if they timed everything perfectly, and they couldn’t risk anything going wrong.
After the men ate supper, two of them came to untie Isabelle and Sarah so that they could eat, and then they took them for a little walk, just far enough away so that they could relieve themselves behind some trees. It was getting dark, but there was enough light for Isabelle to take in their surroundings. There wasn’t much going on. The campsite was in a sparse woodland. The trees were far apart, and there were some shrubs. She couldn’t see any roads and had no idea where they were.
The horses were all tied up, but luckily, they were at the back of the wagon. If they were going to escape, a horse or two would come in handy. It was a dangerous plan, but staying and doing nothing was far scarier.
Once back in the wagon, the men tied their wrists together again and then left them for the night. They slept on the floor of the wagon, between the benches. They had no bedrolls or pillows, just two blankets. It wasn’t comfortable, and Isabelle’s body ached from having to sit most of the day and then sleep on the wooden floor of the wagon. She knew Sarah was in pain too, but her daughter didn’t complain. She was a sensitive girl, but they both knew they had bigger things to worry about.
The men wouldn’t return to the wagon until the following morning, but Isabelle couldn’t put her plan in motionimmediately. First, she had to wait for all of them, except for the two standing guard, to go to sleep.
“What now?” Sarah asked, keeping her voice low.
“You try to get some sleep,” Isabelle told her daughter. “I’ll wake you up when it’s time.”
Sarah looked hesitant but nodded in agreement. “All right, Ma.”
Isabelle watched as Sarah lay down, using the one blanket as a pillow and the other one to cover her. It was still early in the evening, but the last of the sunlight had faded, and the inside of the wagon was dark. The men would be awake for a long time, so she would listen and wait.
When the voices finally started to fade and silence filled the night around her, Isabelle quietly moved to the end of the wagon and carefully peeked through a small opening in the canvas. It was the same spot from where she had been watching the men the previous nights. Like before, there were only two men keeping watch. The others were scattered around, sleeping on their bedrolls.
The two guards were seated with their backs to the fire. They were facing the wagon, but they weren’t really paying attention. One was busy carving a piece of wood with his knife, and the other was staring off into space. The men probably didn’t expect them to try to escape, and she hoped that would give them an advantage.
Taking a deep breath, Isabelle moved away from the exit and gently shook Sarah. There was almost no light inside the wagon at all, making it difficult to move around. Sarah stirred and then sat up, her silhouette barely visible. Isabelle placed a finger over her daughter’s mouth, signaling her to be quiet.
Slowly, she moved to the back of the wagon. A moment later, she felt Sarah sit down beside her. With her heart racing in her chest, Isabelle removed the pocketknife from her boot and grabbed Sarah’s bound hands. She placed them on her lap and then carefully opened the knife and started to work her way through the rope. She had tried untying the knots before but couldn’t get them loose. They were tied in some special way, and cutting them off was their best option.
It took a couple of minutes, but as soon as Sarah’s hands were free, she took the knife from Isabelle and started cutting through her rope. It was much faster with Sarah being able to move her hands freely.
So far, the plan was going smoothly. Next was the dangerous part, but it was too late to change their minds, and even if it wasn’t, Isabelle wouldn’t. She had to get her daughter to safety.
The men were more to the right of the wagon, so they would escape on the left side. It was a huge risk, but it had to be done.
Isabelle gripped the knife tightly as she pressed the tip into the canvas. It was difficult to work in the dark, but the knife was sharp, and within a second, a small slit appeared. She workedfaster, all the while trying to be as quiet as possible. Cutting through the canvas wasn’t difficult now that she had started, but it was making a slight noise, which worried her.
It didn’t take too long to cut a hole big enough for them to climb through, but once again, the next step was more dangerous than the previous. Isabelle held the canvas open as best as she could so that Sarah could slip through. They had taken their boots off to help make as little noise as possible. Once Sarah was safely on the ground, Isabelle handed both pairs of boots to her and then carefully escaped the wagon, too.
