Chapter 8
Carlee hadn't been hit in the head, the way Michael had. Instead, she'd felt the hypodermic dart the Mutilator had shot at her sink into her neck. She'd swatted it away, but it was already too late. The concrete floor rose to meet her as she lost consciousness.
She had come to just moments ago, but she kept her eyes closed, giving the impression that she was still out. She could tell she was strapped to a metal table. By the sense of size she got, she thought she was in a warehouse, or some other kind of large building. She had no idea how long she'd been out, or what had happened to Michael after he'd been struck with the board.
It took all of her strength to keep from crying at the thought that Michael might be dead.
Carlee risked opening her eyes a slit. The ceiling above receded into darkness, air conditioning ducks and hanging light fixtures barely discernible, confirming her sense of a large space. Her limited peripheral vision showed no one near her. She risked opening her eyes a bit more. Turning her head slightly in both directions, she confirmed that at least for the moment, she was indeed alone. She was indeed in a warehouse, for there were stacked boxes all around. It appeared that the table she was strapped to was in the middle of a maze of boxes stacked nearly to the ceiling. There were two walkways leading to the area where she was.
Quickly taking stock of her situation, Carlee found she was securely strapped to the table, her hands and feet individually immobilized. On a table nearby were various instruments of torture.
A shudder of fear ran up and down Carlee's spine. She didn't give in to it, though. Not knowing if Michael was alive or dead, much less coming after her, meant the only person she could count on to get her out of this was herself.
Starting with her right hand, Carlee began to test the straps, looking for one that was even marginally weaker or looser than the others. Her left hand had the wiggle room she was looking for.
Her hand was soon raw from pulling against the ropes, but she was able to finally pull it free. She tried to free her right hand, but the ropes were tied too tightly to be loosened one handed. Carlee thought the table of torture tools might be within reach of her left hand, so she reached out toward it. Her finger tips brushed the edge of the table.
Straining as far as she could, she was able to just hook the under lip of the table with her fingertips. Leery of tipping the table over, she gently began to pull the table toward her. It scraped softly on the floor, causing Carlee to stop for a moment and listen. Satisfied that the sound had gone unnoticed, she continued pulling the table until the instruments on it were within reach.
She grabbed a wicked looking hunting knife, and quickly cut the other straps tying her to the table.
Just as she jumped down off of the table, she heard a door somewhere in the building open and close.
Carlee tried to gauge the direction the sound had come from, and chose the walkway she thought lay opposite the sound. Taking a firm grip on the knife, she edged quickly into the opening between the towering stacks of boxes.
The boxes had truly been set up to form a maze, for within minutes, Carlee had lost all sense of direction, and couldn't remember which turns she had made past the last one. The boxes were too big and stacked too high to see over, much less think about moving to make a more direct path to the building's exterior.
Carlee froze as she heard the table with the torture tools crash to the floor. He had discovered she had gotten loose.
"Carlee!" he made her name sound like a curse. The rage in his voice left her with no doubt that the only way she would get out of here with her life was if she took his.
A moment later, he spoke again, calmer this time, "Carlee, you won't escape. There's only one way out of this maze, and it wasn't the way you went. I will find you!"
Figuring silence was her ally at this point, Carlee kept silent. This seemed to enrage him further, for next she heard the table she'd been strapped to slam against a stack of boxes, sending them tumbling down in a maelstrom of sound. She began moving away from the sounds again, thinking that she might be able to see the building wall from an isle or two away, and some how manage to get over the boxes to it.
At each new turn in the maze, she stopped and listened carefully. She prayed he would make another sound, so she would have some idea of where he was, but he had gone silent, too. After listening carefully, she would peer around the corner, before moving out into the walkway.
She didn't know how long she had been working her way through the maze. It felt like hours, but she was pretty sure it had probably only been minutes. Suddenly, she felt a whisper of movement. She whirled, narrowly twisting away from the arm he had been about to wrap around her neck.
He reacted by swinging his right hand up to punch her. Carlee deflected the blow with her left fore arm. She then brought her right hand, with the knife, up in an attempt to stab him in the abdomen. He chopped his left hand down on her wrist, hitting a nerve which made her hand go numb.
The knife skittered away across the floor, and Carlee dove after it, knowing that if she didn't get it back, she was dead.
He dove after her, getting his hand around her ankle. He began to pull her away from the knife, but she brought her other foot up and kicked him right in the face. He screamed and released her ankle, as her boot broke his nose. Blood gushed past his fingers, as he held his hand to his face.
For the first time, she got a good look at him. He was nearly as tall as Michael. His brown hair, long enough to get a grip on with her hands during their last encounter, was now closely cut. His green eyes held a crazed, hollow look. His face sported a five o'clock shadow, which gave his handsome looks a roguish cast. His looks belied his evil nature.
With a grunt, he adjusted his nose, bringing the cartilage and bone back into alignment, which helped to stem some of the bleeding. He brought his attention back to Carlee.
Carlee held the knife firmly in her left hand, as her right was still partially numb from the chop across the nerve. She faced him squarely, daring him to advance on her.
"Give me the knife!" he said menacingly, taking a step toward her.
"I intend to!" she gritted out between clenched teeth.
He lunged for her, then, and she drove the knife home between two of his ribs.
His scream came out wet and bubbly, and he would have collapsed on top of her, if she hadn't shoved him off.
He fell to the floor, the knife sticking out of his side. His breathing was labored and wet. The knife had gone deep into his lung. Without help, he would probably be dead in minutes.
She heard another door slam open and a panicked voice yelled, "Carlee!"
"Michael!" Carlee screamed with relief.
"Carlee! Where are you?" Michael's voice was still panicked, but there was a hint of relief in it, too.
"Somewhere in this awful maze, Michael," Carlee's voice held a slight tremble. "The Mutilator is here, too. I stabbed him, Michael!"
"K.I.T.T., can you get me a layout of this maze? You better try the authorities again, too. They'll need to send an ambulance for the Mutilator." Michael quickly told K.I.T.T. through the comlink. "I'll be right there Carlee, just hang on!"
Michael followed K.I.T.T.'s directions and ran toward Carlee's location within the maze. When he got there, he took in the scene in one quick glance. Then turned to Carlee, pulling her into his arms. She didn't resist, in fact, she laid her head against his chest. Michael rested his cheek on her head, rocking her gently back and forth.
Minutes later, a patrol car and an ambulance rolled up outside the warehouse. Michael directed the patrolmen and the paramedics through the maze to where they were waiting, with the body of the Mutilator.
Carlee refused to leave Michael's side while they both gave their statements to the officers. In fact, she wouldn't even let go of his hand.
It was nearly midnight when the patrolmen finally said they had all the information they needed, and let Michael and Carlee go. Both were bone tired, and Michael still had one hell of a headache, but they were alive!
Half way between the building door and K.I.T.T., Carlee stopped. She pulled Michael around to face her, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him.
When she pulled away a few minutes later, she said, "Michael, I love you. I have since the minute I laid eyes on you. I was just afraid of what the future might hold. I don't care about that, now. If I only get a few days with you, then so be it. I'll cherish those days for the rest of my life. I'm so sorry about all of the mean things..." Carlee trailed off as Michael put his finger to her lips.
Michael couldn't believe what he had heard Carlee say. He had ached to hear her speak gently and lovingly to him. He had been so afraid she would reject him, something he had never before feared.
Michael took Carlee's hand and placed it over his heart, holding it there with both of his. Carlee could feel her heartbeat begin to match his, as the silence lingered for a moment longer.
When he spoke, it was only two words. "Marry me!"