Davy hadn't slept much the previous night. This was partly because it was difficult to sleep chained to the table he was lying on, and partly because he was worried that Thomas wouldn't make it in time to save his life. He didn't want to admit it, and if anyone had asked, he wouldn't have admitted it, but he was worried. He lay on his back, with his chained arms and legs on the sides of him and stared at the ceiling, thinking of Eliza the whole night.
Morning must have come because Melissa entered the room and told him that it was. There was no light in the dim room he was in. Davy assumed it was a basement he was in. "Are you ready to die?" Melissa asked him as she undid the chains that bound his ankles. Davy didn't respond. He just looked at her.
She undid the chains on his wrists, but he made no move to resist her. He wasn't sure why, but he figured that resisting would only make it more painful and he didn't want that.
"Make a left now," Thomas told Peter, who complied, turning the wheel to the left.
"Are we getting closer?" Peter asked. He glanced at the boy, who was sitting in the seat next to him. his eyes were closed in deep concentration, and Peter figured he was probably in contact with Davy at that exact moment.
"I don't know," Thomas replied. "It's pretty far away."
Peter nodded and concentrated on the road. The sun was barely coming up and the roads were empty, but he resisted the temptation to speed. Even though he knew Davy's life was in danger, he didn't want to speed and get a ticket.
He flashed back, remembering another of Davy's kidnappings. It was during his unfinished wedding ceremony to Eliza. Mike had speeded along the road trying to reach the Englishman and had ended up getting a speeding ticket which merely served to delay their trip even more.
Peter drove as quickly as he could, staying under the speed limit and keeping alert for Thomas' last minute instructions.
'I hope we get there in time,' he thought to himself.
'I hope you get here in time, Thomas,' Davy thought to himself. Melissa had unchained him from the table and now tied his arms behind him.
"You're being cooperative," she commented. He didn't respond. "I'm surprised."
"I didn't kill your sister," he told her in a defeated voice.
"It's your fault she's dead," Melissa maintained.
"I didn't kill her. I couldn't stop it. I tried," he told her. He was trying to stall for time, to give Thomas and the others more of a chance to get here.
"Yeah, well, you didn't try hard enough," Melissa snapped back.
"There was nothing I could have done, Melissa," he told her. Melissa whirled around and stared at him, her eyes blazing anger.
"If you weren't there she wouldn't have died," she told him. "If she hadn't known you she'd still be alive."
"You don't know that. Maybe she was destined to die."
"No! Lies!" Melissa shouted. She grabbed Davy's shoulders and began to shake him. "They're all lies."
"You can't change the past, Melissa," he told her calmly, knowing that she wouldn't listen if he shouted. "Killing me won't bring her back."
"No," she replied, straightening up. "But it will avenge her murder."
"Get off at this exit," Thomas told Peter. Quickly, he shifted lanes and turned onto the highway's off-ramp. "At the end of the ramp, make a right."
Peter complied. The area they were driving into now was a residential one, and he watched the people in the neighborhood come out and retrieve their newspapers. An old woman was tending to a rose patch, and the man next door to her could be seen pruning her hedges. Houses lined the sides of the street, all similar to each other in one way or the other. Peter smiled to himself.
Thomas' next direction was to turn left and they entered a run-down area of the town. These houses were less well-off, and they were more broken down. The yards looked unkempt and the houses were shoved tightly together, with few yards. The dwellers had erected high metal fences, and Peter frowned. The neighborhood gave him the chills.
"That's it," Thomas announced suddenly. "That's the house."
The attic Davy was led to was a dim place. The ceiling was easily nine feet high but there was little light. He entered the attic and saw right away how Melissa intended to kill him. There was a rope hanging from a high rafter. And at the end of that rope was a noose.
Davy gulped.
Melissa led him to a milk crate that was under the noose. "Get on there," she told him.
Davy hesitated, but stepped up on to the box. "Melissa, now listen to me, please," he pleaded, turning around.
"Shut up!" she shouted. "I've had enough of your lies! Shut up!" She stepped behind him, slapping him on the back of the head. "You're going to die, Davy. Just accept it."
"That one?" Peter asked. The house was broken down more so than all of the others on the block.
"That's it," Thomas replied. The house was 2 stories. It had no siding, but instead shingles that hadn't been painted in awhile. It was a light brown color, and many of the shingles were falling off. The roof was in desperate need of repair, and Peter shuddered at the thought of it.
"How are we gonna get in?" he asked. The house was surrounded on all sides by a tall metal fence.
"Climb over," Thomas replied with a smile. Peter looked at his son and sighed.
Davy knew intellectually that he couldn't be right, but somewhere in the back of his mind he thought that he knew that Peter was getting closer. 'Thomas must be with him,' he realized, thinking how that would make sense. He only needed to stall a little longer.
"Killing me won't accomplish anything," he told Melissa as she knotted the noose around his neck.
"It will avenge my sister's death."
"I didn't kill her. If you want to avenge her death go and kill the man who murdered her. Not me."
"It's your fault she's dead," Melissa replied in a mumble. "No amount of talking on your part will save you now. You're going to die."
"Why hanging?" he asked, genuinely wondering. He glanced up at the rope around his neck.
"Because it will make you suffer," she replied with a smile. "No more stalling," she announced, her face becoming serious again. "You are going to die."
Peter landed on the opposite side of the fence with a thud and groaned. He helped Thomas climb down.
"We don't have much time," Thomas told him, and they both started to run for the house.
Davy wasn't prepared for the exact moment, but Melissa kicked the crate out from under him. He felt a sharp pain in his neck, and a coarseness where the stiff rope rubbed his neck.
He thought he heard Melissa's laughter, but he couldn't be sure. The rope was tight around his neck and it was hard to breathe. He moved his arms, but they were tied tightly behind him. He felt white static in his head, and his vision began to blur. He closed his eyes. Over the static in his head he heard Melissa's laughter. Sure of what it was now, he prepared himself.
Suddenly, the tightness of the rope on his neck was gone and he could breathe again. He didn't bother to open his eyes, he just assumed he was near dead. Davy thought he felt himself floating through air and he assumed he was leaving his body. Then he was placed lightly on the ground.
He heard Melissa scream and a loud thump. Then she was silent quickly. He forced his eyes open, and felt a sharp pain in his head. His vision was still blurry, and he shut them again.
"Davy are you alright?" he thought he heard a voice say, but he couldn't be sure. It might have just been a dream.
"Is he okay, Dad?" Thomas asked, looking over Davy. Peter looked up at Thomas.
"I'm not sure," he replied. "But he's alive. Go find a phone," he told the boy. "Call the police and tell them to bring an ambulance." Thomas nodded and ran down the stairs.
"It's okay Davy," Peter whispered to Davy. "You'll be alright."
Davy finally managed to open his eyes. His head no longer hurt as much as it had before, and he looked around him.
"Davy? You in there?" he heard a voice ask. It must have been Mike, he recognized the accent.
Davy groaned. "I'm not dead?" he asked, and was surprised to hear his voice come out in a hoarse whisper.
Mike laughed, and Davy saw his face appear in front of him. "Nope. Sorry shotgun," he told him. "You're with us for a bit longer."
Davy sighed. "Where am I?" he whispered.
"In a hospital," Mike replied with a more serious face. "You'll be okay. Don't worry the voice thing'll stop. You'll just be hoarse for a little while on account o'the rope around your neck an' all."
Davy nodded. Mike must have been worried, he thought to himself, because his accent was showing more than usual. He sighed, shutting his eyes and leaning back, ready to relax.
