Mollie
The man pulled a shiny silver pocket watch from his trousers and consulted it. “It’s been over twelve hours,” he said with a look that Mollie could only interpret as amusement. “I’d say your grandfather is moving heaven and earth to find you by now. Too bad he never will. At least, not until I’m ready.”
“What does that m-mean?” Mollie asked from the corner of the room. She was shivering from head to toe and wishing she’d worn a sweater instead of the thin blouse she’d picked out the day before.
“It means, my dear Mollie, I have great plans for the two of us.” He shoved the watch back into his pocket, casually walked over to Mollie, squatted before her, and lifted her chin with his finger. Mollie jerked away from his touch. The feel of his skin on hers made bile rise in the back of her throat. The man scoffed. “That’s fine. You don’t have to enjoy our time together. You just have to obey.”
“What are you going to do with me?” she asked, scooting further into the corner in a vain attempt to get away from her abductor.
The man smiled, and Mollie was instantly reminded of Heath Ledger’s character, the Joker, in The Dark Knight. “Why…telling you would ruin the surprise. And where’s the fun in that? Huh?” He stood, walked over to the bed, kicked off his boots, and sat on the edge. “Now, it’s late. I’m going to get some beauty sleep for a couple hours, and then, my dear Mollie, the fun will begin.”
His voice sent an icy shiver up her spine, and Mollie blinked hard to keep tears from streaming down her face. She’d given up all hope of convincing the man to let her go as soon as he’d told her this all centered around revenge against her pops. Whatever her grandfather had done to this man in the past was big enough and bad enough that he was willing to kidnap Mollie in order to send him a message. Someone that desperate, that driven, could not be persuaded to change their plans. There was no way she’d ever get him to see her as anything other than an implement of revenge against Pops. The only hope she clung to now was that someone would find her before the man carried out his plan, whatever it was. Mollie wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
“I suggest you get some sleep too.” He lay back on the bed and tucked the pillow beneath his head. “Long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
Mollie gathered what little bit of courage she had left, shifted to her knees, and looked right at the man. “Why haven’t you done whatever it is you’re going to do already? You just said you’ve had me here for twenty-four hours. All you’ve done is sleep, read, and ask me questions about my pops. Why don’t you get it over with?”
He shot up from the bed and was in her face in a fraction of a second, so close she could smell the sweat mingling with his fading cologne. “Watch yourself, little girl. I’m in charge here, not you. Do you understand?”
Mollie whimpered as she nodded vehemently. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
The man patted her cheek lightly. “Thatta girl.” He stood straight and walked back toward the bed. He threw a glance at her over his shoulder. “Remember your place. Remember who you are. And remember why you’re here.” He climbed back into the bed, and within minutes, he was snoring carelessly.
Mollie pulled her legs up to her chest, hugged them tightly, and cried into her knees. Her situation was hopeless. This man, whoever he was, had some sort of sadistic plan for her with the sole objective of exacting revenge on Pops. She had spent the past twenty-four hours imagining all the horrible things he would do to her, but she couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t so much as laid a hand on her since they’d arrived in The Vault. In some ways, it gave her hope that he didn’t plan on physically harming her. Perhaps he only wanted to scare Pops and prove to him that he could get at him anywhere, anytime. Perhaps he would release her after Pops got the message and apologized for whatever he’d done to the man in the past.
But the more rational, realistic part of her knew it probably wouldn’t be enough just to send a message. Whatever Pops had done to him had upset him so much he was willing to stalk and kidnap his favorite granddaughter. The chances she’d be handed over safe and sound at the end of this whole ordeal were slim to none. It was much more likely he was simply biding his time and waiting for exactly the right moment to punish Pops.
There was no way she was going to sit around and wait for this crazed lunatic to kill her, or whatever it was he was planning for her that would be worse than death. She wracked her brain for something, anything she could do to get the hell out of this creepy dungeon. But no matter what ideas came to mind, she had to face the brutal truth. She was literally chained to the wall. There were thick metal shackles attached to her ankles that were secured by a…
The lock. She remembered the man locking the shackles with an old-fashioned metal key, which meant the shackles were old too. How new could leg shackles be, anyway? Did they even make them anymore? She recalled a lesson Pops had given her as a child on picking locks. At the time, she’d thought nothing of it. Only that it was cool that her grandfather knew how to do something so clever. It never occurred to her that this might be an indication of the secret life he led.
Her hands flew to her head, but she was disheartened to remember she’d taken her bun down after work. What had she done with those damn bobby pins? She played through her movements in the employee lounge like an old movie, one image at a time. She’d taken the bobby pins out, laid them on the table, taken the ponytail holder out, and then…and then…that was it! She’d gathered the bobby pins and shoved them in the right pocket of her jeans.
Mollie turned over onto her left hip, careful not to rattle the chains, and slid her hand into her right pocket. For the first time, she agreed with her mother that her jeans were too tight. She dug around until the tips of her fingers found the cold metal of the bobby pins. She grabbed one between two fingers and slowly slid it out of her pocket. As she bent the bobby pin into a straight line, she glanced over at the man, who was still dozing on the bed. After chewing the little rubber ends off, she leaned forward and slid the blunt end of the pin into the lock and worked it around deftly until she felt the click of the lock disengaging. It had worked!
Her heart was beating a million times per minute, and tiny beads of sweat dripped from her forehead as she quietly slid the first shackle off her ankle, then the second. She couldn’t believe she’d actually done it. Though she was temporarily grateful to her pops for teaching her something she thought would never come in handy, it wasn’t enough to assuage the anger she felt toward him for whatever he’d done to cause this to happen.
Free now from the restraints that had bound her to the wall since her arrival in this dingy hell-hole, she crawled across the floor on hands and knees toward the steps that led to her freedom. She had to pass by the foot of the bed to get there, but the man never moved an inch. Mollie arrived at the foot of the stairs and looked up to the door that stood between her and the outside world. She had no idea what she’d do once she made it out of The Vault, but she’d worry about that when she got there.
Mollie climbed the wooden ladder, one step at a time. It was hard to get a good grasp on the rungs, thanks to her trembling hands. Her bare feet slipped a few times, but she was quickly able to regain her footing. Slowly, methodically, she climbed toward blessed freedom. As she grew closer and closer to the top, she thought of her mother and of what it would feel like to be enveloped by her warm embrace. Kitty would hold her tight and promise to never let her go. The image brought a smile to Mollie’s face for the first time in more than a day, and she climbed higher and higher, determined for the happy thought to become a reality.
When she reached the top, she was disheartened to see another lock, but lucky for her, it was another older-style padlock. She slid the bent bobby pin out of her pocket again and worked it around inside the lock until it released. Mollie let out the breath she’d been holding and wiped her brow. Her fingers slid the lock out of the latch, and she set it on a piece of wood near the top. Mollie felt a fluttering in her chest as she reached for the latch and quietly pushed the door open.
A cold breeze washed over Mollie, causing goose pimples to form instantly on her skin. It was only then she recalled it was late November and she had no winter coat with her, let alone shoes. They must be in her car, which Mollie spotted parked at an angle merely twenty feet away. Maybe the keys were still in there? She had no idea why the man had yet to dispose of her car, but didn’t care. It was still there, and she’d find the keys still in the ignition and drive and drive and drive until she found the road. Then she’d drive some more until she got as far away from this horrible place as possible. The thought of freedom shot a bolt of adrenaline coursing through her veins. She took one more step up the ladder, grabbed the ledge with both hands, and hoisted herself up and out onto the cold ground.
At first, she didn’t register the sensation. But a half a second later, she realized with horror that the man was behind her, pulling on her legs. Mollie tried to dig her fingers into the hard earth so she could pull herself free from his grasp, but the ground was frozen solid. Instead, her fingernails dragged across the surface as he pulled her violently down the hole. She nearly fell, but he caught her and slid her down the ladder to the ground where she collapsed in a heap at the bottom. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe—afraid of what he was going to do to her now.
The man was breathing heavily when he descended the final steps and stood over her limp body with both hands planted firmly on his hips. He said nothing for several seconds, so Mollie gathered her nerves and slowly looked up at the looming figure above her. His smile made her skin feel like fire ants were crawling all over her.
“I warned you,” he said between deep breaths. He reached behind his back, produced a large knife, and bent so they were once again face to face. His breath was rancid. Mollie tried to shrink away from him, but he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her closer to him. They were nose to nose now. “Time to send good old Frankie a message.”