Chapter III
Joe held his breath, pressing his back against the door. The sound came again, louder than before. He tried to think of something he could use as a weapon, but except for his fists he couldn't come up with anything.
Well, he thought grimly, the best defense is a good offense. He rose slowly, unlocking his knees. As silently as he could manage, he began easing himself along the wall, keeping his shoulders flat against it. Whatever it was, he was going to meet it on his feet.
The cell was small, and he soon found himself in the far corner. He began edging along the back wall, feeling his way. Suddenly, out of the darkness, something claw-like clutched at his ankle!
Joe tumbled to the floor with a hoarse cry that was answered by an echoing cry. He yanked his ankle frantically out of the cold grip, kicking out and crawling backward into the corner. He raised his fists to defend himself, but something was scratching at the back of his mind. The cell was filled with heavy breathing that wasn't just his own, and that cry had sounded like...
"Frank?" he whispered cautiously. There was a rustle from the opposite corner.
"Joe. It's you."
Joe began to laugh out of sheer relief. "I should have known. Who else would be sharing these deluxe accommodations with me? Say - " he remembered the moan. "You okay?"
"Yeah." Frank's voice sounded disgusted. "Except for where you kicked me and the inevitable bump on my skull. I am getting so tired of getting hit on the head."
"Sorry about the kick. I thought - "
"No need to explain. You don't even want to know what I thought."
"Anyway, I'm glad you're here. Well, not exactly glad, but -"
"Yeah. I know. Boy, I feel like a first class chump."
Joe supposed that he did, too, but he was so giddy with relief and so glad to have Frank for company that nothing could seem too bad. "I don't suppose you have a light?" he joked.
"Actually, if it wasn't broken in the fall, I think I've got my pencil flashlight. And my Swiss army knife. You?"
His knife. How could he have forgotten it? "Yeah, I've got it. What's the plan?"
"I don't have one yet," Frank admitted. "I'm just taking inventory. Have you tried the door?"
"Yeah. No go."
"Hm. Let's try it together. Of course, if these are on the electronic switch and he's activated it, we're pretty much stuck until morning. But if he's just jammed it...let's give it a try."
"What time is the first tour boat in the morning?"
"Gets over here about ten o'clock. Of course, the government boat comes about an hour before that with the employees."
Joe was silent a moment. "Then let's hope he hasn't activated the electronic switch." He heard Frank fumbling in the dark, then was startled by a thin ray of light that grew larger as Frank adjusted it.
"Okay," said Frank, flashing it around the cell. "It works, but I don't know how strong the batteries are, so we'll use it judiciously." He played it over the door. "Hmph. Doesn't look like it's quite flush, so chances are it's just jammed. Let's try a little muscle."
Straining together, Frank and Joe fared no better than Joe had alone. Still, as they paused to catch their breath, Frank sounded pleased. "Definitely a little give, which means we have a chance at breaking out by ourselves. Hold the flashlight. I'm going to pull out my knife."
Frank ran his finger down the seam in the door and pulled out his Swiss army knife. He selected the longest, thinnest blade, and inserted it carefully in the crack between the doors. Sliding it slowly upward, he came to a sudden stop about one third of the way up.
"Feels like he sealed it or tied it or something. The blade just barely reaches between the doors, but I can pick at it. Won't be fast, though. Why don't you try it from the top. Careful of your blade. Slow and easy."
Joe obediently stationed himself over Frank, using the flashlight to find the door seam and follow it from above his head downward. About a foot above where he estimated the door handles to be, he felt resistance. He sawed at it delicately with his blade.
"This is going to take forever," he groaned.
"It's not like we have a ride off this rock anyway. Besides, I figure we can combine sawing with pushing. As we weaken whatever it is, we may be able to push through. Better lose the light a while. We may need it later."
Joe looked from the flashlight to his brother, patiently working his knife. "Frank?"
"Hm?"
"Know how I tease you about being kind of over cautious sometimes?"
Frank made a face. "Oh, yeah."
"Well. Sometimes, I'm kind of glad you are."
Frank glanced up at him quickly, and Joe caught the flash of his teeth in the dim flashlight beam. "I guess it takes a night in the Big House for some guys appreciate what they've got on the outside. Kill the light, now."
Joe turned off the flashlight and dropped it in his shirt pocket. They worked for a long time in silence, stopping occasionally to rub some circulation back into their freezing hands. The steel floor was like ice, and they shivered with the cold.
"I'm starving," said Joe after a time.
"What else is new."
"At this rate, we'll be lucky to be free before the government boat gets here."
Joe had made some progress, and he picked for a moment at a particularly dense mass before thinking out loud. "Unless...they plan to come back for us. Just wanted to keep us contained until the coast was clear to come back and - "
Frank paused in his work. "Pleasant thought," he said ruefully. "Let's try shouldering again. If nothing else, the exercise might warm us up."
They pushed and pried with a will, but with little result. The thought of their captors coming back to heave them into the icy waters around the island to their death gave them new energy despite the cold, and they worked away furiously. They tried another bought of pushing, and while the doors shifted tantalizingly, they still didn't give way.
Frank sagged against them dispiritedly. "Let's take a break." He glanced at his watch. "Maybe we should be trying to take turns sleeping."
Joe looked at the time and was amazed to see how much of the night had flown. He rubbed his arms with his hands, his teeth chattering. "No way am I going to even try to sleep in this place. Let's go at it again."
They worked away in silence. Joe could definitely feel some progress now, and he tried to resist the urge to hack away and risk damaging his blade. The silence, the darkness, and the extreme cold all seemed to crowd in on him as he worked.
"Frank?" he said after a while, to break the silence.
"Mm?"
"If I tell you something, do you promise not to laugh?"
"Cross my heart."
"Well. I almost felt like...When I was alone, it seemed like - well. Like this place was almost haunted or something." He heard Frank pause in his work, shift positions.
"Actually," Frank's tone was thoughtful. "That's not so impossible, Joe. I mean, paranormal scientists definitely agree that hauntings are most likely to occur in places with a history of extreme violence, anguish and human suffering. When you think of all the men who died here - beaten to death, stabbed, executed, shot by guards...or if you go back even further in its history, to its days as a Civil War prison - "
"Frank."
Frank paused, interrupted just as he'd been warming to his subject.
"This isn't making me feel better."
"Oh. Right. Sorry. Maybe you'd better turn on the light for a while."
They worked away again in silence, until Joe heard Frank slow and stop.
"What?" he asked, after a moment.
"I was just thinking."
Frank didn't elaborate, so Joe prodded again, "What?"
"I was just thinking that we left Callie all alone with Alissa, who we don't know for sure is really on our side. What if they lured us out here to get us out of the way, and now they've got Callie?" Frank's voice faltered at the end and Joe stopped sawing to stretch his fingers.
"Now who's scaring himself? We do know that Alissa's innocent. Nobody's that good an actress. And I'd bet on Callie to outwit these bozos any day. Probably she's asleep right now in a nice warm bed. Here, why don't you try this end for a while. Give you a chance to stretch. Then we'll give it another heave-ho."
They worked for a while longer, then braced themselves for another try. They were drained with the cold and meticulous labor to the point of exhaustion, but they were also desperate.
This time, after a prolonged shove, they were rewarded with a tearing sound.
"Good," Frank panted. "Again." They grit their teeth and pushed until their muscles bulged, and this time, with a groaning, ripping sound, the doors parted suddenly, sending them tumbling to the floor in a heap. They stayed there a moment, pounding each other on the back with shouts of triumph.
Joe reached out to retrieve the flashlight, which had rolled out of his hand, and they climbed painfully to their feet. And stopped dead.
Joe didn't have to see his brother to know that he had the same expression on his face that he felt on his own. In their eagerness to get out of the cell, they had forgotten one very important thing.
They had forgotten the second set of double doors.
Joe held his breath, pressing his back against the door. The sound came again, louder than before. He tried to think of something he could use as a weapon, but except for his fists he couldn't come up with anything.
Well, he thought grimly, the best defense is a good offense. He rose slowly, unlocking his knees. As silently as he could manage, he began easing himself along the wall, keeping his shoulders flat against it. Whatever it was, he was going to meet it on his feet.
The cell was small, and he soon found himself in the far corner. He began edging along the back wall, feeling his way. Suddenly, out of the darkness, something claw-like clutched at his ankle!
Joe tumbled to the floor with a hoarse cry that was answered by an echoing cry. He yanked his ankle frantically out of the cold grip, kicking out and crawling backward into the corner. He raised his fists to defend himself, but something was scratching at the back of his mind. The cell was filled with heavy breathing that wasn't just his own, and that cry had sounded like...
"Frank?" he whispered cautiously. There was a rustle from the opposite corner.
"Joe. It's you."
Joe began to laugh out of sheer relief. "I should have known. Who else would be sharing these deluxe accommodations with me? Say - " he remembered the moan. "You okay?"
"Yeah." Frank's voice sounded disgusted. "Except for where you kicked me and the inevitable bump on my skull. I am getting so tired of getting hit on the head."
"Sorry about the kick. I thought - "
"No need to explain. You don't even want to know what I thought."
"Anyway, I'm glad you're here. Well, not exactly glad, but -"
"Yeah. I know. Boy, I feel like a first class chump."
Joe supposed that he did, too, but he was so giddy with relief and so glad to have Frank for company that nothing could seem too bad. "I don't suppose you have a light?" he joked.
"Actually, if it wasn't broken in the fall, I think I've got my pencil flashlight. And my Swiss army knife. You?"
His knife. How could he have forgotten it? "Yeah, I've got it. What's the plan?"
"I don't have one yet," Frank admitted. "I'm just taking inventory. Have you tried the door?"
"Yeah. No go."
"Hm. Let's try it together. Of course, if these are on the electronic switch and he's activated it, we're pretty much stuck until morning. But if he's just jammed it...let's give it a try."
"What time is the first tour boat in the morning?"
"Gets over here about ten o'clock. Of course, the government boat comes about an hour before that with the employees."
Joe was silent a moment. "Then let's hope he hasn't activated the electronic switch." He heard Frank fumbling in the dark, then was startled by a thin ray of light that grew larger as Frank adjusted it.
"Okay," said Frank, flashing it around the cell. "It works, but I don't know how strong the batteries are, so we'll use it judiciously." He played it over the door. "Hmph. Doesn't look like it's quite flush, so chances are it's just jammed. Let's try a little muscle."
Straining together, Frank and Joe fared no better than Joe had alone. Still, as they paused to catch their breath, Frank sounded pleased. "Definitely a little give, which means we have a chance at breaking out by ourselves. Hold the flashlight. I'm going to pull out my knife."
Frank ran his finger down the seam in the door and pulled out his Swiss army knife. He selected the longest, thinnest blade, and inserted it carefully in the crack between the doors. Sliding it slowly upward, he came to a sudden stop about one third of the way up.
"Feels like he sealed it or tied it or something. The blade just barely reaches between the doors, but I can pick at it. Won't be fast, though. Why don't you try it from the top. Careful of your blade. Slow and easy."
Joe obediently stationed himself over Frank, using the flashlight to find the door seam and follow it from above his head downward. About a foot above where he estimated the door handles to be, he felt resistance. He sawed at it delicately with his blade.
"This is going to take forever," he groaned.
"It's not like we have a ride off this rock anyway. Besides, I figure we can combine sawing with pushing. As we weaken whatever it is, we may be able to push through. Better lose the light a while. We may need it later."
Joe looked from the flashlight to his brother, patiently working his knife. "Frank?"
"Hm?"
"Know how I tease you about being kind of over cautious sometimes?"
Frank made a face. "Oh, yeah."
"Well. Sometimes, I'm kind of glad you are."
Frank glanced up at him quickly, and Joe caught the flash of his teeth in the dim flashlight beam. "I guess it takes a night in the Big House for some guys appreciate what they've got on the outside. Kill the light, now."
Joe turned off the flashlight and dropped it in his shirt pocket. They worked for a long time in silence, stopping occasionally to rub some circulation back into their freezing hands. The steel floor was like ice, and they shivered with the cold.
"I'm starving," said Joe after a time.
"What else is new."
"At this rate, we'll be lucky to be free before the government boat gets here."
Joe had made some progress, and he picked for a moment at a particularly dense mass before thinking out loud. "Unless...they plan to come back for us. Just wanted to keep us contained until the coast was clear to come back and - "
Frank paused in his work. "Pleasant thought," he said ruefully. "Let's try shouldering again. If nothing else, the exercise might warm us up."
They pushed and pried with a will, but with little result. The thought of their captors coming back to heave them into the icy waters around the island to their death gave them new energy despite the cold, and they worked away furiously. They tried another bought of pushing, and while the doors shifted tantalizingly, they still didn't give way.
Frank sagged against them dispiritedly. "Let's take a break." He glanced at his watch. "Maybe we should be trying to take turns sleeping."
Joe looked at the time and was amazed to see how much of the night had flown. He rubbed his arms with his hands, his teeth chattering. "No way am I going to even try to sleep in this place. Let's go at it again."
They worked away in silence. Joe could definitely feel some progress now, and he tried to resist the urge to hack away and risk damaging his blade. The silence, the darkness, and the extreme cold all seemed to crowd in on him as he worked.
"Frank?" he said after a while, to break the silence.
"Mm?"
"If I tell you something, do you promise not to laugh?"
"Cross my heart."
"Well. I almost felt like...When I was alone, it seemed like - well. Like this place was almost haunted or something." He heard Frank pause in his work, shift positions.
"Actually," Frank's tone was thoughtful. "That's not so impossible, Joe. I mean, paranormal scientists definitely agree that hauntings are most likely to occur in places with a history of extreme violence, anguish and human suffering. When you think of all the men who died here - beaten to death, stabbed, executed, shot by guards...or if you go back even further in its history, to its days as a Civil War prison - "
"Frank."
Frank paused, interrupted just as he'd been warming to his subject.
"This isn't making me feel better."
"Oh. Right. Sorry. Maybe you'd better turn on the light for a while."
They worked away again in silence, until Joe heard Frank slow and stop.
"What?" he asked, after a moment.
"I was just thinking."
Frank didn't elaborate, so Joe prodded again, "What?"
"I was just thinking that we left Callie all alone with Alissa, who we don't know for sure is really on our side. What if they lured us out here to get us out of the way, and now they've got Callie?" Frank's voice faltered at the end and Joe stopped sawing to stretch his fingers.
"Now who's scaring himself? We do know that Alissa's innocent. Nobody's that good an actress. And I'd bet on Callie to outwit these bozos any day. Probably she's asleep right now in a nice warm bed. Here, why don't you try this end for a while. Give you a chance to stretch. Then we'll give it another heave-ho."
They worked for a while longer, then braced themselves for another try. They were drained with the cold and meticulous labor to the point of exhaustion, but they were also desperate.
This time, after a prolonged shove, they were rewarded with a tearing sound.
"Good," Frank panted. "Again." They grit their teeth and pushed until their muscles bulged, and this time, with a groaning, ripping sound, the doors parted suddenly, sending them tumbling to the floor in a heap. They stayed there a moment, pounding each other on the back with shouts of triumph.
Joe reached out to retrieve the flashlight, which had rolled out of his hand, and they climbed painfully to their feet. And stopped dead.
Joe didn't have to see his brother to know that he had the same expression on his face that he felt on his own. In their eagerness to get out of the cell, they had forgotten one very important thing.
They had forgotten the second set of double doors.