Killing Sunlight

CHAPTER FOUR | Displacement

All that was left to do was run.

Thirty days—a nightmarish month had passed since her rescue had spiralled into entrapment—she'd counted by the light that seeped under the door and splintered through the open stairs. If only she could escape that basement, she'd stand a chance. That mantra kept her going through the nights when she could feel her hipbone sinking through the mildewy and sagging mattress to the cold concrete beneath.

The third step from the bottom was loose; it creaked, and its screws peeped out when it bore weight. That was her ticket out of there. She'd busted her fingernails, prying the screws out until her fingertips bled.

Another day waned until her captor rattled the padlock on the door, checking it was secure, as they did every night before they went to bed. An hour or so later, she began screaming, yelling at the top of her lungs, until they burned with the need for air. She heaved another great lung full and continued until she heard footsteps thundering from down from the second floor.

"If she knows what's good for her, she'll shut up." The woman snarled, "You idiot, you should have gagged her!" There was no reply from him, but someone kept fumbling to unlock the padlock.

Thankfully, the strongest was coming to be eliminated first. It would make her getaway easier, but her heart was torn because she'd always liked her neighbour, Hassan Khoury. He'd seemed like such a nice man. However, that couldn't stop her from doing what was necessary to free herself, not after he'd idly stood by and allowed his wife to butcher her. The barely healed wound on her back burned as a reminder of the first event in this series of horrors. Naively, she'd trusted the Khourys, believing that they'd meant to rescue her. Instead, they spirited her away, violently attacked her, and locked her up in a basement. The phone calls she'd overheard while imprisoned left her with the impression that they meant to traffic her; the bartering over her worth and cost made her stomach churn.

When the door finally opened, she thrust him down the stairs, barking, "Deal with her properly this time, you coward! I've got her blood on my hands already. I've done more than my fair share, and we're doing this for your family, remember?"

Down he came, like a lamb, to the slaughter. Hassan inevitably lost his footing on the missing third step and went tumbling to the basement floor; that was when Karou revealed herself and pummelled his head with the plank. The yowling and cussing that followed meant the blow hadn't killed him, but she'd already taken flight up the stairs, hurrying to maim Minisha.

In all the time Karou had known the couple, that wretched woman had only pretended to be a docile housewife; she was truly a wolf in sheep's clothing. So, when she caught up to her, she flogged her not once or twice but thrice for good measure. Imagining the bruise that would tarnish the vain woman's face gave Karou gratification. She'd gotten a slice of vengeance, no matter how meagre. But there was nothing to smile about.

Escaping the basement brought fresh panic. It wasn't the basement she thought she'd been imprisoned in; she wasn't at the Khourys' house at all. Outside, Karou didn't recognise the street as her hometown; it didn't even look like New England. Panting, running, and high on adrenaline, her eyes flitted this way and that. The license plates of the cars on the driveways clued her in as to where she was—two thousand miles from home in Montana.

Diverting her getaway off-road, Karou trekked into the sleepy towns surrounding woodland. If she really was worth two million dollars, it stood to reason that the Khourys would be on her tail once they'd recovered from their battering. Through the trees, she saw the amber glow of streetlamps—another neighbourhood. Briefly, she pondered, knocking on a door and asking for help, but trusting a stranger was out of the question when she couldn't even trust her neighbours. Without a steadfast plan, she followed the lights to a desolate road. She resigned to walking down the grassy verge because there was no sidewalk. The odd car that came past cast light over the road; the rumble of their engines felt ominous as they disturbed the quiet.