10 years ago…
Hours later, she found herself crouched down behind the hinges of the door. When the door opened she would be concealed by it, giving her a tiny chance – her only chance – to get the drop on him. This Winter Soldier.
Once she had stopped screaming and banging her fists against the door, she had quickly progressed to uncontrollable sobbing while curled up on the floor. She had never considered herself to be weak, but it was now that she realised "weak" was a perfect description for her.
She was weak when she'd allowed her father to offer her vague excuses and distractions every time she'd tried to ask him questions about the past. She was weak when she let the idea of being the last girl left on the shelf drive her to into the arms of a fictional stranger. She was weak when she spent, what must have been close to 2 hours, screaming and crying for her captors to let her out.
She was weak all round. And not least of all in the present moment, she was physically weak too.
She had very basic self-defence skills thanks to various workshops she'd attended throughout high school and college, but she knew that was meaningless in the face of the metal-armed monster that had brought her here.
So, yes. She was weak. But she wasn't about to give up. Her 2 hours of screaming and crying had given her a lot of time to think and she now knew with complete certainty that she would rather die and then let herself be …used like that.
And once she realised that, she also realised that she would only have one chance and she needed to use it wisely.
Her heart had beat wildly in her chest as she'd searched for something, anything that she could use as a weapon. Unsurprisingly, there wasn't much on offer and every second that passed by was one second closer to the moment she would have to strike.
Finding nothing else, she set her sights on the tiny reading desk in the corner of the room. It was a harsh stainless steel, and was clearly bolted down to the floor, but that wasn't what had caught her eye.
There was a singular drawer in the top right corner.
She'd held her breath as she'd tugged on the handle. It opened. This could work. This could actually work.
Inside she noted a blank writing pad, what looked like a bible, and two pencils. Immediately she emptied the draw, throwing the pad and the bible onto the floor. She was just about to ditch the pencils too when a thought occurred to her and she decided to keep them instead.
Removing the drawer was not easy, and quite frankly, she was lucky that no one had come in to investigate all the noise she was making. In the end, she had climbed onto the small desk and slammed her foot down onto the drawer. It took several attempts and she had earned several cuts in the process. She made a mental note to get a tetanus shot on the off chance that she actually managed to get out of here.
And now, here she was. She had no idea how long she'd been crouched in this position – however long it had been, both her legs had threatened to fall asleep at least 3 times but she didn't dare move. He would be back soon. She didn't know how she knew. She just did.
She clutched the drawer tightly in her hands, her knuckles had turned a shade of white with the effort. She could feel the two pencils concealed on her person. One tucked down in her right flat, the other she had twisted up into her hair –she figured that at least now she didn't have to worry about hair flying in her face, but if needed, she had an easy access weapon.
She continued to wait, eyes closed as she tried to control her breathing. She knew that if she was going to make it, she had to keep calm. Calm and in control. She repeated the mantra over and over in her head. Calm and in control.
Her eyes snapped open. Footsteps. Were those footsteps?
For hours all she had been able to hear was the sound of her heartbeat in her ears, but she could've sworn… She closed her eyes and focused. Calm and in control.
They were footsteps.
Calm.
They were getting louder.
…And in control.
They were coming closer. She didn't think her heart could beat any faster.
Calm.
They stopped. Right outside the door they stopped. Part of her wanted to cry again but she forced the tears back.
…And in control.
She heard the soft beeping of the keypad just outside. This was it. She didn't know whether it was him or just some random coming to check on her. Either way. It didn't matter. This was it. This was her chance.
Calm.
The keypad signalled that the correct code had been entered and the door began to push open. Slowly, Allie pushed herself up from her crouch, the drawer ready in front of her. As the person stepped into the room she felt her stomach drop at the realisation that it was, in fact, him. But it was now or never.
…And in control.
Without a second thought, she launched herself out from behind the door and slammed the steel drawer into the back of his head. She noted briefly that the blow barely affected him at all. She didn't stop though, using her limited self-defence skills she thrust her foot into the back of his knee. He stumbled slightly, filling her with pride for a fleeting moment before she carried on.
Before he could regain his footing she hurled the drawer at him once more. Once again, he was barely phased but she saw an opportunity and she took it. Against all odds, she had managed to create a very small opening between the Soldier and the door. She didn't hesitate.
She just ran.
