“I thought I was going to die.” Her foggy eyes met mine as I tried swiping her hair back. “I really really thought I was going to die here. I’m so happy to see you.” Beth’s words came hard. “How long’s it been?” Touching my palm to her forehead, it felt like she had a fever. Exhausted, she lowered her face, eyes unfocused.
I tried shifting the rope overhead so that it would slip off the hook, but this proved to only dig the cuffs into her wrists; each shift forced a groan or hiss out of her. I held her up with one hand and began running the edge of the knife against the rope. “We’re going to get out of here, honey— I promise you we’re getting out of here and everything’s going to be just fine.” I believed it. I really did. Escape wasn’t that far away. We’d run. We’d never look back. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” said Beth. “We’re going to be okay.” Her words came slow, far away— as though she tried to calm me. She even nodded along and followed it with a shh sound. Beth was delirious.
The rain came down. I tried cutting the rope as quickly as I could, but my hand kept slipping in the rain and I didn’t want to drop Beth, because that would apply more pressure to her wrists.
