The Family: Ties That Bind (VOL. 2)

Chapter 17

The cheer that erupted from the brood washed out Penny's muffled cries and the struggling of the other hostages. Loretta's words were like a green light to the men and just like that, they sprang into action. Each of the boys dispersed to complete some task.

"Get the bucket, Leatherface!" Drayton barked and off Bubba went. "Hurry up with it, don't leave Grandpa waitin'," he made sure to call out after his brother. Turning to Nubbins, he gave another set of orders. "Bring 'er on down, boy! Grandpa's ready and waiting."

Cued by his brother, Nubbins knelt by Penny's side and sawed through her restraints with his pocket knife. The braided hairs of the rope split and frayed until they finally snapped apart. All the while, Penny convulsed like a fish out of water, trying to escape Nubbins' hold as he forced her out of her chair and onto her knees before Grandpa. The strength he displayed overpowering someone close to my size was both impressive and terrifying. I've never had a real tussle with Nubbins and now that I've seen how much power is packed in that limp spaghetti noodle he calls a body, I'm not sure I want to.

Bubba came loafing back through the doorway carrying a dented silver tub in his arms, reminiscent of one of Loretta's wash tubs she used to scrub the grime from our clothes. He dropped it on the floor before his grandfather with a crash sharp enough to frighten a yelp from the lips of the blonde who was still trying to process Loretta's decision. I watched as Nubbins forced her head over the side of the bucket, stretching her neck over the edge like a chicken on the chopping block awaiting slaughter.

Without realizing it, I had jumped to my feet. My mind was racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out some way to make the madness stop. Meanwhile, Loretta stood back watching the scene with a smile cold enough to freeze all of Texas on her lips. If I could convince the head of the household to pull the plug on the chaos, she could get the men to fall back and spare Penny's life. Yeah, that sounds like a good game plan.

"Loretta," I hastened to her side. "you have to make this stop. Please, they're gonna kill her. She did nothing wrong– Loretta, these people are innocent!"

She didn't bother to even look in my direction. Her focus was glued on her sons. "Nothin' wrong?! What d'you call breakin' into my home then? Trespassers have to be taught a lesson."

"Then call the police! You don't have to take matters into your own hands!"

"You and I both know who those pigs will side with, Tilly. Sometimes you have no choice but to take matters into yer own hands. Kids nowadays ain't got no respect. They just prance right into my house like they own the place. Around these parts, we don't take too kindly to strangers messin' with our family."

Stubborn, pig-headed, obstinate, old hag. I should have known she wouldn't relent. Waste of time even bothering with her. Okay, I need a new plan. Plan B. Hard to think of one with all the screaming and crying. Each time an idea surfaces, it's chased away by a blood-curdling screech, like nails on a chalkboard.

The sight of a mallet in Bubba's hand caught my eye and I froze. He slipped the handle of the hammer into grandpa's feeble hand and closed his knobby fingers around it, keeping his hand on his grandfather's for support. The fire that was ignited under my butt upon realizing the method of murder they were planning thawed me out of the stupor I was frozen stiff in. I don't know what possessed me or where the newfound courage came from, but I knew I had to make my move while they were all busy. Starting with Dwight, I began tugging on the ropes binding him to the chair. The knots were tight and my hands were shaking profusely so untying the rope was easier said than done. I needed something sharp. A knife or pair of scissors would work. That was when my eyes landed on a steak knife left on the table. I practically bellyflopped on the top to reach across and retrieve it. My fingers grazed the edge of the metal, the blade almost in my grasp, but a pair of rough hands yank me back by the fabric of my dress.