She’d never been this frightened in her life.Nor had she been this determined.If she could keep her focus on escape, she wouldn’t succumb to complete despair.
Footsteps sounded outside the door of her cell, and the sound of metal scraping across metal alerted Alana that someone was opening the door.
She dropped to the dirt floor and played dead, her hand on the bucket, her body tense as she readied to spring into action.
The dull yellow light from the wine cellar spilled into her cell.
“Señora?” a male voice said.
Alana lay on the ground and moaned softly, but loud enough for the man standing outside her door to hear.
A plastic bottle of water landed on the ground beside her, but the man didn’t enter.
When the door started to close, Alana ramped up the sick act and moaned louder.If he didn’t fall for it, she might lose her only chance to get out of the cell.
The door stopped closing, leaving a wedge of light crossing over her face.The wedge broadened as the door opened wider.
“Señora?”the man called out, the sound closer this time.
He stepped into the cell and nudged her foot with the toe of his shoe.“¿Estás bien?”
From beneath her lashes, Alana studied the man.Dressed all in black, his arms covered in tattoos, the man carried a rifle and smelled of sweat.
She moaned again and pulled her legs in, balling her body into the fetal position.
The man squatted beside her and touched the barrel of his rifle to her temple.“Bang,” he said softly.
Anger surged through Alana at the man’s sadistic taunt.Her hand closed around the rim of the pail, and she brought it up hard and fast, aiming for the man’s face.
The pail caught him on the nose, and the crunch of cartilage echoed off the walls.
His hand flew to his face.Blood spewed from his nose, and he swung the rifle away from Alana’s head.
This was her chance, her only opportunity.Alana had to move.With her legs cocked already, she kicked out both feet, catching the man in the knees.He fell backward, landing hard on his ass.
Alana scrambled to her feet and dove for the door.
The man roared behind her and lunged after her.
She made it through first and slammed the door, but the man’s hands were in the way.
He screamed and withdrew his hands, giving Alana a second shot at closing the cell door.This time, she succeeded, dropping the bar into place and locking the man inside.
She didn’t have much time.Once he figured out he was locked in, he’d probably start shooting the rifle at the door.The bullets would splinter the wood.If he had enough ammunition, he’d break through and get out.Not to mention, the sound of the gunfire might filter through the building and draw the attention of Delgado’s goons.
Alana raced through the racks of wine to the stairs leading up into the kitchen.Once at the top, she paused long enough to ease open the door and peer out.Two men stood in the kitchen, each armed with a rifle.One drank from a water bottle.
The other said something in Spanish that made the water bottle guy laugh.
A sound from the other end of the kitchen made them look up.
A man in a white smock entered and spoke sharply to the two men with guns.
The men snorted and talked back to the man in the white smock, but they left the kitchen soon after.
Alana assumed the man in the white smock was the cook.He pulled pots from a rack beside the gas stove about the same time as the guard in the cellar started firing his rifle.Though the sound was muffled by the walls of the basement, Alana held her breath.
If the cook heard the muffled sound of gunfire, he might alert the men he’d just chased out of his kitchen.Alana had to get out of there before they discovered she’d escaped her cell.
