Salvation

Salvation #9

My fingers finally tear through the barbwire. Its falls away from my bloodied wrists, dragging ragged flesh away. A painful squeal rolls off of my lips and leaks into the air.

My jaw tightens and my laboured breathing hisses through my teeth. Grunting, I manage to haul myself to my feet. I sway against the stiletto heels. My muscles ache in rebellion, weakened beneath my weight.

I stagger forward clumsily. Gravity drags my body toward the concrete. I hit the floor hard, sending pain racing through my arms and legs.

Squealing, I rip the stilettos off and hurl them across the room. I pull myself to my bare feet and stumble across the basement. I crawl up the narrow flight of stairs, collapsing in front of the door.

My auburn hair clings to my dirty, blood smeared face. My dark eyes flash over the door and the room. It's small stone walls cage me in with the claustrophobic gloom. A heavy wooden cross hangs on the far wall, bulging out of the wall.

Whirling around I slam the palms of my hands against the thick wooden door. "Help me!" I scream. I claw at the door, scratching at it's surface. My nails grind against the wood. "Somebody help me!" I shout desperately.

Clinging to the doorknob, I drag myself up. My body rocks before slumping against the doorframe. I beat my fists against the door in a hopeless struggle to bash it down.

"Damn it! You stupid son of a bitch! Let me out of here!" my yelling echoes inside the basement. Tears stream down my cheeks, carving through the blood.

The door snaps open. My heart lurches and I jump back. The light stings my eyes, blinding me and sending me into disorientated blur.

Adrenaline and fear courses through my vanes. I lunge forward, moving swiftly through the silvery light. I ignore the constant waves of agony swelling against my skin and try to slip through the doorway.

A strong arm wraps around my waist, hurling me against the wall. Gasping for air, I stare wide-eyed at Nate. I thrash against his hold, screaming desperately.

He clamps his hand over my mouth, muffling the high pitched sound. "Estas loco?" he hisses. Foreign words roll off of his tongue and a thick Spanish accent slips into his voice.

My fingers tremble over the back of his hand. Sobbing, I burrow my nails into his flesh. "Mierda," he mutter, jerking away.

His dark eyes burn through me. I cower against the wall, whimpering quietly. "You have to be quiet," he murmurs, switching back to loose English, "If you fight or struggle then they'll beat you and lock you back in here. If you try to run away then they'll shoot you."

"W-what?" I whisper. His gaze softens and flickers over my wounded wrists. Drawing in a cautious breath he slides the door open wider. "Come on. Se calmer," he breathes.

Hesitantly I follow him through the narrow doorway. The light stings my eyes, searing them with tears. Nausea curls around my stomach and weakness overwhelms my body.

The long hall tilts and spins around me. Trembling, I sink to my knees. "Ella?" concern oozes into Nate's voice. He grips me by my upper arm, tugging me onto my feet.

Gradually my vision clears and breaks through the light. A border collie stands at the end of the hall, shifting it's weight between it's two front paws. A low whine rolls through the back of his throat. It runs down the hall and lingers beside Nate.

The hall is lined with doors, all bolted shut. The heavy locks bulge against the wood.

Nate ushers me down the hall, dragging my limp body. The border collie trails behind us and hovers close to Nate's ankles. "Here," he mumbles, letting me slump against the wall. I sink to the floor and whimper quietly.