A/N: Thank you so much for the kind reviews. I do, however, apologise for some of the typos. For example, I noticed I typed 'her' instead of 'here' Obviously because they're words anyway, my spellchecker doesn't pick them up. Damn thing! Anyway, here's the next chapter. And Kinky Boot Fiend, please don't eat my brain; I need it to write! Haha! Enjoy!
Chapter Ten
Darkness began to shroud the cells. Charlie and Rachel remained back to back against the bars, praying for some way out. In her time of desperation, Rachel began to think back to the many happy years she spent at home in England with her parents and older sister, Amy. One memory gave her some hope in this time of need; Christmas 1994.
Dressed in a pair of Rugrats pyjamas, seven year old Rachel scurried down the stairs, hoping to catch a glimpse of the presents, and more importantly, Santa. Her eyes widened and a grin spread across her face as she eyed the array of colours through the banisters of the stairs. Gold, red, green, blue, silver. It was all so beautiful. But one present caught her attention. It was big and towered over the rest.
Giggling, Rachel jumped down the bottom step excitedly and rushed into the living room, holding her stocking which had been left on the end of her bed. Her little fingers traced the outline of it, feeling the hard shapes underneath the gold wrap.
"It's a bike!" she exclaimed, growing so thrilled that Santa had brought her the present she wanted. Then she studied the rest of the gifts, checking for ones which had her name on the tags.
"I miss home," Rachel mumbled. "I miss mom and dad, my sister…I feel like I haven't seen them in years."
Charlie sighed. "Ah forgot what home feels like."
"I still wonder why I left and moved to America. It's like something in the back of head was urging me to do it. I cried so much when I left everyone back home."
In the gathering darkness, Rachel began humming one of her favourite songs. It was 'Pieces' by RED. "When I see your face, I know I'm finally yours….I find everything I thought I lost before…You call my name. I come to you in pieces so you can make me whole."
Charlie looked up suddenly from his lap. "What's that?" he asked curiously.
"Oh, just one of my favourite songs," Rachel replied quietly. "I used to listen to it all the time. My ex boyfriend used to say how crap it was."
The words caught Charlie's attention. "You had many boyfriends?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in question, not quite knowing what a 'boyfriend' was but having a good idea.
Rachel flushed a little and lowered her head. "Only one. I was with him for four years when I was back home, and then we split up. Have you…been with many women?"
Charlie noticed the way she stopped mid sentence, not quite sure how to word her question. "Depends on what you mean by 'bin with'. Ah've slept with women but never really felt anythin' for any of 'em."
"I only ever slept with one person. I can't give myself to someone I don't have feelings for," Rachel said timidly. "I don't believe in all this stuff about keeping yourself pure until marriage, but I still couldn't be with a man I don't love." Rachel looked through the bars and stared directly into Charlie's gaze which was shining brightly through the murky darkness. "Have you ever been in love before?" she asked suddenly, catching him off guard.
"No," Charlie half snapped. It made him think back to when he was fourteen and had pursued a local farmer's daughter named Rebecca. In his mind's eye he could still see her curly red locks which fell down her back in thick, luxurious waves. He remembered picking daisies out in the field to take to her, excited by the very thought of finally courting a girl. It had been his father who had changed his mind, telling fourteen year old Charlie that no girl would want him and he was good for nothing. The fresh daises wound up beneath his father's boot.
With a loud creak, the wooden door at the far end of the room opened and a young man appeared. His shy and nervous face peeped around the edge of the door, and he moved in slowly, lighting the oil lamps.
Rachel looked up, her gaze suddenly stopping on the young man who was still lighting the lamps around the edge of the room. A plan was formulating in her mind, cunning and far fetched. She wasn't sure if she could pull it off, but hope was all she had at the moment. Silent prayer slipped past her lips as she called the man across. "Hey, can you come here? I need help."
The man looked up, his scared eyes searching for Rachel. "Ah'm not sure ah should…."
"Please, I won't hurt you. I just need you to help me a minute."
Rachel watched as the worried young guy walked steadily over to her, keeping his distance. Looking down, she noticed he had a pistol at his side. "I take it you're the guard for tonight? Worked here long?"
"This is my third night. Ah watch over prisoners."
Charlie scoffed. "Yeah, as if we hadn't guessed that one."
"I imagine it gets cold and lonely on a night, doesn't it?" Rachel asked, peeping through the bars at him, her heart beating wildly in her chest.
Charlie watched Rachel in the corner of his eye, a smirk present on his face. Her hand reached through the bars towards the young man. "I can warm you up, you know?" she said seductively, her hand brushing against his shirt and moving downwards.
The young man swallowed hard, not sure whether to ignore her advances, or give in to it. Instinctively, he moved closer and then felt Rachel's hand cup his most sensitive area.
Charlie chuckled behind his hand, watching Rachel try and seduce this man who looked as though he'd barely made it out of puberty. He was skinny, his clothes hanging off him and around his face were the first hints of manly stubble, although the term 'manly' was to be used very loosely.
Rachel couldn't believe she'd resorted to such filth to ensure an escape for her and Charlie; if it got them out then so be it. "Open the door and I'll make sure you have a night you'll never forget," Rachel told him, placing her hand on her hip and winking at him. Charlie still remained in the corner of his holding cell, trying hard not to laugh. During all this, Rachel had her hand firmly cupped between the guy's legs. His facial expression was one of intense shock. "Come on, don't be bashful now," Rachel continued, almost throwing Charlie into a full fit of laughter, but he stifled it successfully.
Quickly, and with shaking hands, the young guard reached for his cell keys, held on to a large iron ring and opened the door as fast as he could. For a minute or so, Rachel tried her best to make it seem as though she were genuinely interested in the skinny whelp. Her hands fiddled with the buttons on his pants, and suddenly, after enduring too much, she grabbed the gun from his holster. She fingered the trigger nervously. "Were you really born yesterday?" Rachel asked sarcastically, pointing the loaded pistol directly at the petrified guard's head. "That's got to be one of the oldest tricks in the book. Now, let Charlie out or I put a bullet in your skull, mate." Her British accent had grown more intense with the nervousness she felt; whenever she was placed in a difficult situation, she found her accent becoming thicker and broader.
Shocked and terrified, the young guard did as he was instructed and opened Charlie's cell, the iron keys jingling furiously in his shaking hands. Charlie merely chuckled dryly at the guard and stepped out of his cell, ready to get out of the place. Rachel followed on behind Charlie, turning back every so often to keep her eyes on the guard.
In the main front office, Charlie rooted around the desk and drawers, finding a piece of rope. It was dusk and thankfully not many were about. This would allow Rachel and Charlie enough cover to get a horse and get the hell out of town. "Tie the kid up," he told Rachel plainly, holding the rope in his hand. "And find somethin' to gag him with. He'll go and call for help, you can bet, as soon as we leave."
Rachel did as instructed, taking the rope and dashed back into the holding cells whilst Charlie searched for his Schofields. They were his initiation gift of sorts from Ben Wade once Charlie had proved himself useful to the outfit, and for many years had helped him in tough times. "You done yet?" he called impatiently, holding the guns in his hands, studying the barrels.
"Yeah, I am now," Rachel said, slightly out of breath. "He resisted a bit."
Charlie just grinned. "You're not all the good girl you seem, are ya?" he asked playfully. Then he handed one of his pistols back over to Rachel and shoved the other in his holster on his right hip.
"I've got the man's gun from back in the cell," Rachel said, looking at the gun in her hand, now un-phased by its presence there.
"Take it for good luck," Charlie said, reaching out and touching the small of her back, gesturing for her to go in front. "Now lets get outta here."
Together, Rachel and Charlie kept low and behind buildings, watching out for anyone who may have been out and about keeping a watchful eye over Millville. On the side of an old tavern was a dirty poster, but its black words were still bold and clear. Rachel looked at it a moment.
"Outlaws sabotaged postal wagon. Keep a look out for any suspicious business going on in town," Rachel read out. "They know it was us." It suddenly dawned on her after uttering those words that she'd used the plural word 'us', including herself in on this.
"Around here, Rachel, everyone knows it's us that raids coaches."
At the end of the row, Charlie could make out a small barn. "Head for the barn," he instructed, keeping a firm grip on her arm. "We need a horse." All around them they could hear the laughing and general chatter of the townspeople. At least under the night sky, they had a better chance of getting away safely.
Once they'd made it to the barn after ducking away and hiding behind buildings just long enough to rush away without being detected, Charlie ran in the barn and pulled down a set of stirrups and saddle from the far wall of the barn. Then he noticed an old bedroll on the ground by a stack of hay, which he picked up. That would be extremely useful for them. "Get the horse," he told Rachel who was still lingering by the door. Her breath was in gasps and her legs shook terribly with the nervousness and sheer fear.
"Okay," she replied simply and looked along the stalls, picking out a brown mare that had a white dash down it's nose. "Hey," she said softly, stroking down its face. It looked extremely similar to the horse they'd rode in on, but it seemed the healthiest one of the bunch.
Charlie put the saddle across the horse's back and then took the reins which were still on it, and guided the animal out. "Once we're out, get on in front of me," he instructed her again. "If anyone shoots, they hit me first."
The pair snuck outside with the horse and then once in the clear behind the barn, Rachel got on as quickly as she could, although awkwardly and moved forwards, giving Charlie enough room to jump on behind.
She felt safe as soon as Charlie's arms locked around her and picked up the reins. Rachel leaned back a little, feeling her back press against Charlie's strong chest. And then they were off.
Through the darkness of night, Charlie rode away out of town and kept going just long enough so that no one could find them. Rachel closed her eyes, the movement of the horse's gallops almost sending her to sleep. Charlie kept Rachel tight against him, protecting her as he'd always promised to do. Gradually the gallops slowed down into a trot. "Ah'll try and find somewhere for us to stay tonight," he told Rachel, his warm breath catching her ear. It sent a tingle of excitement down her spine.
The darkness was too dense for Charlie and eventually he found himself growing extremely tired. "We may just have to camp out somewhere." He didn't have enough energy left in him to go and find a roofed building for them, instead he jumped down off the horse, helping Rachel and guided her over to a wilting tree which had been scorched by the deadly sun.
Finally free, Charlie rested against the tree, his back pressing against the bark. Rachel nudged up against him, pushing her head onto his shoulder. And there, in the dead of night, they slept soundly.