To Cristina, this mystery man was giving her the gift of another chance to find help and flea the greasy hick's house where shelter could come in and no longer have to live in this nightmare she was forced to call her life. If she wanted to gain back freedom and avoid the possibility of dying in the near future, she would have to act fast, but how she would go about getting this person's attention, she was absolutely clueless. She was unable to move or speak at the moment and she was fairly certain with the way she was struggling to free her tight bounds from the rope, she would be at risk for serious burns which the young girl knew already started the day before and that distracted her from conjuring up any plans.
If she could muster up the strength to move her body, despite the obvious disadvantages, then perhaps something could be done. I could find a way to make noise…like bang against something. The wall? The cabinet…maybe I can get myself close enough so I can kick it. If I'm loud enough and persistent, someone would have to notice. They would just have to…She spent what seemed like ten to twenty minutes trying to come up with a more brilliant, elaborate plan which was impossible at the moment for her mind was completely blank, shot from exhaustation and the heat that was starting to seep in from the dry, unmerciful desert outside; it was most likely fairly cooler in the basement where the thick cemented walls blocked a lot the humidity and sun's rays out and there was nothing to be done about it.
If you want to get the hell out of here, Cris, you'll have to listen to me… The voice inside her head sounded determined and strong, unlike herself who lay helplessly on the ground like an animal left to die. And maybe she would end up that way which was why she had to try again. Just try, darling. I know I said that before but if you don't try to do something and just allow yourself to be the victim, you'll end no where or in a body bag somewhere...And it's not like you're alone, now are you? You've got me. From time to time, I like to think of us as friends. Come on, Crissy. Your mother lost your father not too long ago. Don't let her lose another family member…
Cristina shut her eyes as if she were being a shown a video of her distraught mother and the grief that hardly ever left her no matter how many pills she swallowed. Do you remember Momma? For two and a half months, she locked herself in her and Daddy's room with nothing but that fucking photo album. She'd scream if anyone took it out of her hands. Remember how you got through to her eventually, saying it's alright to miss him and be sad but with her, you'll learn to move on? If word gets to her and you're never found or worse….your corpse is discovered, how do you think she'll feel? They will be no else to comfort her like you did for her, not even Uncle Samuel. Do you really want to put her through that?
"Fucking stop," She mumbled to herself in a desperate attempt to shut up the voice. "Don't you think I know that? The thought of putting her through more heartbreak kills me more than anything and I'd do absolutely fucking anything to get safely back to her, in her arms…JUST FUCKING STOP!" Thinking negatively wasn't something she could afford at the moment for she feared if she found herself lost within them, she'd be trapped within the abyss of no return, tightly gripped into Mac's clutches until death became the final option.
Before the voice was able to speak, the sound of the door bell followed by a booming voice interrupted the internal conflict. Mystery man had arrived at last….
She had her ears alert, one of the last abilities not rendered useless for the time being but she could barely make out anything. She was farther away from the wooden stairs and the door was closed unlike when Sheriff Collins had been here and the door was left wide open for eavesdropping. It was almost as if Mac knew she'd try something. She was always trying to ruin his plans for keeping his pet in his possession. The only thing, however, she managed to hear were the floorboards creaking. The mystery man's (She swore that Mac said his name but she couldn't remember) footsteps were different from Mac's. Mac's were more dominate and heavy while the other man's made it seem like he were wearing cowboy boots of some sort (and she knew after growing accustomed to listening above her).
Fuck…I wish I knew what the hell they were saying up there and who is this guy? A friend, haha…I doubt that very much but how would I know…the hick is friendly to everyone except for me. Well, she did get off on the wrong foot with him….Why was she even thinking about this? What was wrong with her? Mac was a grimy and disgusting human being…Never in a millions years would she ever associate with him.
Never.
He may have more of a social life than I could possibly have, I'm betting it's not much. From the looks of it, most of the townspeople are cautious of him and whatever accusations they hold towards him are most likely true. How many did he kidnap and keep like a dog before I came along? I wonder what their rumors are and why Uncle Samuel didn't say anything before…Oh, Uncle Samuel…
...what is that? A motor outside? The engine of Mac's truck suddenly roared to life and for the first time in days, Cristina never thought she would be so delighted to hear it but it also gave her false hope. If he was leaving then what about the mystery man? Surely, he would climb in the truck with him?
Oh no…please don't let that be the case. Mystery man, whoever you are, promise me you won't leave with him. I'm trapped down here, please help me. I need help…Don't let my plan be butchered.
"Dumb asshole! I should have went to Walter's place myself. You were always so damn unreliable! Fuck!" Mac's relentless and angry yelling echoed throughout, meaning he had the truck near the basement window outside. He had sounded so close. "Have to do everything myself. You best stay here while I take care of business myself!" Letting out several more profanities, the truck door was slammed and within thirty seconds, the tires screeched. Whatever problem transgressed between the two men, Cristina was glad for it.
This was her chance.
Cristina made an attempt to thrust her body forward, to the right where the work station was. A lousy attempt was made a second later, swinging her bound legs in hopes of swaying herself an inch or two. She then worked on her upper body, grunting and forcing herself to struggle until she finally managed to wiggle and half ass crawl while on her side. By the time she was two quarters on the way, the front door opening erupted and she knew the mystery man was in the house. To ensure she wouldn't get caught, she pushed herself harder, hoping Mac wouldn't come back so soon and the other man wouldn't leave.
Come on, Crissy! That's it, girl…You're almost there, I can see it! You're doing so good. Keep going, keep going, keep going…and you're there! I knew you could do it. Now all you have to do is make enough noise to draw him down here. We can do this.
When she managed to reach the work station, she hoped this plan of hers would be successful because if it wasn't, she would be fucked royally. In order for this to work, she spent a few minutes to position bound arms so that she could use her hands to push herself up, bare knees sliding against the cold cemented floor and bent, and rolled herself onto her back, facing the work station. With easy access, she dragged her legs up and brought them down against the door of the cabinet. The first time was a flop, banging her foot on the corner but the second and third time proved to be just right. She continued banging until she heard footsteps stop upstairs.
Maybe he heard you. Kick it again… And she did. She was also right.
The knob on the basement door was being turned and she kicked at the cabinet one last time before letting out a scream for help which was horribly muffled against the gag.
"Hello? Is anyone down there?" Called out the mystery man whose voice held a combination of being timid and curious. "Hello?" Another muffled scream escaped from her dry, cracked lips, this time being heard by the young man.
You did it, Cris! Oh, you really did!.
As he ventured on down the wooden stairs, descending into Hell, Cristina's heart pounded in her chest like a drum, ready to burst at any second. This was too good to be true. Being rescued was a dream Cristina Abernathy played over in her head constantly since that fateful night, never expected to come true but to help her survive the imprisonment. Maybe there was a God out there who desperately wanted her to live by sending down an angel to protect her from the demons that lurked the darkest parts of the earth, ready to strike unsuspecting victims without warning. All her praying, all her pleas to be released were finally answered. If she was able to, she would climb up on her knees and shamelessly kiss each of his feet and grant him anything he desired. Thank god…I'm saved.
"Whoever's down there, you ought to stop being a pester, you hear? Or are you just a rat Mac's been complaining out the past week? I hate rats, vile little creatures." The mystery man looked to be an office with the beige police uniform he was wearing. He had short, blonde hair and eyes blue eyes that resembled the clear blue sky on a perfect summer's day. The heels of his cowboy boots clanked against the hard floor the same way women's shoes would. The first thing Cristina noticed was the uniform. How lucky was she to have a sheriff and an officer show up on the exact same day?
The first thing Harley noticed once he climbed down the dirty, old steps was the bound body of a helpless girl lying on the ground no more than two feet away. He would have to be dumb to not recognize who she was. Back at the station, Sheriff Collins set up a missing person's case after investigating Samuel Abernathy's house. Harley knew Mac became possessive of the women he ended up with or took interest in him and knew of the battery charges against him but never did he imagine Mac would steal this poor girl away like a pet dog and torture her. No, that wasn't the Mac he grew up to know but people change…
It was almost painful to stare at her. She titled her head back to get a look at him and for one quick second, he saw the silent plea in her eyes as she fought against the burning rope. He swore he heard her mutter "help" but he wasn't entirely sure, then there were the bruises that etched the side of her face, the blood that was trickling out of her mouth from when the greasy hick savagely punched her and unintentionally cracked on of her teeth. It was pretty clear to the young man she was Mac's property but his heart ached at the sight, sinking down to his intestines. No one deserved to be treated that way, especially pretty girls who were sweet and harmless. He remembered talking to the girl's uncle a few weeks ago when he let it slip she'd be visiting him for the summer and told him (as well as fucking Mac) about her. She was a sweet thing, like a dainty flower in his eyes. He could not leave her like this, knowing she was suffering. At least, he would remove the horrid gag…
As if she were a dog who would snap viciously at him, Harley walked towards her cautiously before slowly bending down beside her. For a moment, he noticed her cringe but quickly relaxed once it was explained no harm was to come from his own hands.
"Hey, now…I'm not gonna hurt you. Just gonna help you out, alright?" And with that, he gently pulled the gag out of her mouth, giving him an ugly sight of blood which stained the gag as it flew down around her neck as well as her mouth and lips. Cristina leaned forward to spit out a small puddle of blood, along with one of her back teeth before heaving as if she were about to vomit. "That gag looked painful…You'll be alright now…."
"Will you please help me? Oh god…please? He-he killed my uncle and brought me here. I don't know what else he'll do to me so please…." The words barely came out of her mouth as choked sobs erupted from her hysterically. No more words came from her except for fearful cries that refused to cease.
"You're a mess. I'll clean you up nicely before Mac comes back…." Harley's words pierced through her heart like a dagger, her eyes widening with terror. He didn't sound like he was going to rescue her at all.
No, no, no, no! Please don't leave me here! Oh god, sir…you can't.
"No, you don't understand!" She half screamed at him, broken up into sobs. "You can't leave me here! Please, oh please, don't you leave me here with him! He'll hurt me or worse…He killed my uncle! PLEASE!"
Harley's only reaction, other than wincing from her screams, was to stroke her beautiful, brown hair which glistened in sunlight if given the opportunity. "Shh…don't you worry your pretty head…You'll be alright. He won't hurt you again."
"Oh please…I'll do anything you want if you let me go. Anything, I swear."
Unlike Mac, he had a conscience and if he stood up and walked away right now, leaving her here left for Mac to use until she wore out and bored him, it would eat at him. He would only undo her bounds to set her free because it was the right thing to do.