A Game of Colours

Chapter 21: To Free or Not to Free?

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I groan at the bumping, my head throbbing painfully.

"Jar, you alright? Jarrah, talk to me! JARRAH!"

The last thing I hear is the barking of dogs.

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"Isaac, we have to slow down! Something's wrong with Jarrah!" I cry, tears streaming down my cheeks. 

"We can't stop!" he yells back to me from the front. I can barely hear him from the loud wind. 

"You don't even know where you're going! We have to wake him up!"

I crane my head, and curse that I can't get out of this stupid cage and help Jarrah. Why did he have to lock it? If only he could give me the keys, but any mistake he makes now could be fatal to all of us.

If it isn't already too late for Jarrah.

Blood rolls down his face, and his nose looks broken. He has cuts all over his face, and his usually golden hair is matted and dirty. Just the sight of him, so vulnerable, so unaware, scares me. The Jarrah I know is cocky and loud. Seeing him so lifeless... he has to wake up. He must be playing a joke, like always. He's just gonna wake up and say, "why're you so damn gullible, princess?".

Right?

"Where are the keys?" I yell. 

"I have them, but you can't reach them, can you?"

"We have to try!" I shout back, "slow down and toss them!"

Isaac fumbles with the keys in his hand, and when we reach a flat section of the path, he throws them. I stick out my hand from between the bars, ready to catch them.

The cart hits a bump, just as the metal touches my fingertips. They fall from my grasp and tumble onto the path. "Shit!" I yell, "we have to go back!"

"We can't!" he yells, "they're gaining on us." 

He's right. Even among all the trees flying past us, I can still make out the barking of dogs and yelling of men on horses. I know we can't outrun them forever, but the more distance the better.

Frantically, I observe the cage I'm in. There must be some way to break the wood that's holding it together. I notice the scratch marks lining the planks, probably from slaves clawing on them, trying to escape. Then, it hits me.

"Isaac! You still have that knife?" I shout.

"Yeah!"

"Toss me it!" I yell.

"Are you crazy? I'll bloody kill you if I miss!" he cries.

"Then don't miss!" 

"I'm not risking it!" I hear him say from the front.

"We don't have any other choice! Cover it with a shirt, or something!" 

I watch him tear off a section of the fabric, and wrap the knife.

"NOW, ISAAC!" I scream, and he reluctantly throws the blade.

I stick out my hand to catch the bundle.

"I've got it!" I shout, unravelling the fabric to reveal a knife. It's a little blunt, with engravings on it, but it should do the job.

I begin sawing on the wood, trying to snap it and create a big enough hole for me to climb out of. I work as fast as I can, sawing back and forth until it's weak enough to push the plank. Finally, it snaps and I push it out of the cart.