The Piper's Call

Chapter 21

Hi guys! As ever, I want to apologize for the appallingly slow updates. School, homework, assessments and GCSE mocks in a few short weeks (help!) have conspired to  stop me writing, Which royally sucks. But I am lucky. Because I am gifted with the best readers ever, and they're all amazing. So, thanks for being so awesome and I hope you enjoy this chapter! 

Chapter 21- Once Upon A Time

Nina P.O.V

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. That was the only thought racing around my head as I sat in the dark and the wet and the cold. How could I have missed it? It was staring me right in the face! I groaned at my own stupidity, head reeling and spinning off topic. I remembered a drink...and a confession. Rachel...

I felt a sharp tug at my back, rope wearing away at my wrists which were fastened tightly behind me. As a result, my breaths came constricted and heavy and my thoughts were no less slow. The violent tugging seemed to be coming from Thomas, who had only just come out of the drug addled sleep. 

With another sharp yank, I winced and snapped, "Quit it! Pulling will only tighten the rope, which in turn cuts off the blood flow, which in turn causes the hands to be deprived of oxygen. Relaxing is the only way."

"Gee, with an explanation like that, now I can really relax! We're in a crate, in the dark, in some God damn cavern with a kidnapper on the loose!" Thomas sighed heavily and tugged again at the rope uselessly. 

My patience wore thin quickly, his truths in no way helping my mood. "Stop! Stop!" He eventually gave in before tensing up, presumably in thought. It must require a great deal of effort for those less keen of mind. "Can you reach my pocket?"

"I haven't tried. It is illogical to assume I could or could not without trial."

"Nina, try to reach into the damn pocket." 

I dug my heels into the stone, crouching up as far as the crate we were stuffed in allowed. Thomas stumbled and fell, barely able to hold himself up, let alone keep himself there. He somehow takes the strain long enough for me to fumble for his jean pocket, my fingers closing around something smooth and curved. With some careful maneuvering, I managed to work the item free, firmly clasped within the centre of my palm.

"Got it?" Thomas asked, his voice forced out through gritted teeth.

"Got it," I confirmed.

Thomas shifted into another position, almost dropping straight onto the ground again. "Feel that button on the side? Push it. Oh, and keep your fingers out of the way."

I pushed the item up my hand and did as told. With a small whoosh of air, a blade popped up from the item. A flick knife. Brilliant! And yet, so obvious. A small part of me chided myself for not even thinking to be prepared for this solution.  I quickly set to work, sawing against our ropes. After much perserverance, finally the ropes fell and we broke apart. It was then that I saw how pale Thomas had become, he was gripping the bars of the crate tightly for support. My gaze drifted down to his leg...or what had been his leg. The bulky cast had been smashed, he held it at an awkward angles. I can't boast any extensive medical knowledge but I was certain legs shouldn't bend that way...

"Why do you carry a flick knife?" I asked, running my thumb gently along the blade's edge, studying the thin trail of crimson it left behind. Clearly sharp. But what would a boy like Thomas be doing with one of these?
He made no answer for a long, only pocketing the knife. He attempted a smile of easy and happy manners that didn't quite reach his eyes before replying, "One of us has to be prepared. Scout's honour and all that." He made the scout's symbol before wincing at some of the small cuts granted from our escape technique. I rubbed my own scratches gingerly and as the drug began to fade, took the opportunity to properly study my environment, apply the method. About time I did something useful tonight.  I squinted into the darkness, dim light glinting from the metal of the crates we had been boxed into. Wide eyes met mine, small whimpers echoing around the cavern with an eerie ringing.