DEAD IN BED By Bailey Simms: The Complete Second Book

PART 13, AUTHOR'S NOTE - 2/22/15, 10:51am

The cop had given me an impossible task. In the time it would take me to write a full part, Kyle would die.

It was as simple as that.

I know you're wondering why I'm spending so much time posting this update while Kyle's outside freezing.

Well, here's why.

It's because I've made a major decision. Probably the most difficult of my life.

I'm not going to write Part 13. Not like this, anyway. Not today.

I'm going to do something else instead.

See, the thing is, I finally realized what Kyle was trying to say to me when the cop had dragged him out of the room.

I'd thought it had sounded like "sustenance." But of course that wasn't what he'd said. After the cop had stormed back inside, leaving Kyle to freeze, I realized what he must have said.

Mrs. Terrence.

She was the science teacher who Kyle used to TA for when I was a student in her class, just before I'd had to start staying home from school. In was actually in that class that Kyle and I had kind of made a connection. Mrs. Terrence was super popular because she used to do these kind of cheesy, elaborate "mythbuster" experiments. Her most famous was one where she used this voltage detector thing to prove that if you dropped a hair dryer into a bathtub while you were in the water, you would definitely die. Everybody thought it was awesome that she actually dropped a running hair dryer into a basin of water, but the point was that water could actually conduct a lethal amount of electricity.

I'm not sure what Kyle had tried to say to me besides "Mrs. Terrence," but obviously he was reminding me of her class for a reason.

He knew that he'd die out in the snow well before I could possibly finish Part 13. He also knew that one of the few things I had access to from my room was a bathtub.

We had one hope. One hope, and one hope only: I would have to figure out a way to kill the cop.

I didn't let myself think about the implications of what that meant—to actually end a human being's life. I just acted as quickly as possible.

My major practical problem was that I didn't have a hair dryer, or a radio, or anything else that would plug into the one outlet by the tub. The only piece of electronic equipment I had was this computer screen I'm typing on now, but its power cord runs out through the hole in the wall. I tried to pull it out, but it wouldn't budge. If I'd pulled any harder, in fact, I would have had to break it.

I tried not to let myself get too discouraged by this, because I was lucky to have a lot going for me. Not only did I have a readily-available bathtub, the cop had actually made it a daily habit to willingly get inside the filled tub.

On top of this, I even had a wall outlet that was positioned on the low baseboard just beside the tub's drain.

I tried to think. What would freaking Mrs. Terrence do? Why hadn't I paid closer attention in her class? All I could think of, really, was that if you put two wires into the water, one going in and one going out, the whole tub and any other metal touching it would carry the current.

I looked at the tub. It was a really old-fashioned bathtub. The whole faucet mechanism was metal . . . and so was the drain.

Using the small metal key ring attached to the handcuffs key as a kind of screwdriver, I removed the single screw that held the wall outlet's faceplate on. I basically had to pinch the key ring between my hands like I was praying or something and twist my whole body just to turn the screw one half a turn. Finally, though, I got the screw out. My whole body was sore and exhausted, but I didn't care, because I was able to pull out like two feet of electrical wiring from the hole in the baseboard before it went tight.

I ripped the outlet piece off the wires. Very carefully, I used my teeth to tear off some of one wire's plastic coating. I figured it was okay to touch one of the wires as long as I wasn't touching the other. Luckily, I was right.

I tied the exposed wire around the metal drain pipe under the tub. Then I bit off the plastic coating from the other wire and tied it around one of the metal pipes that lead toward the faucet.

I stepped back. The wires were totally hidden from the perspective of anyone sitting in the tub.

I honestly have no idea if this will work. 

But if what I think will happen happens, when anyone turns on the water it will make the current pass from the faucet, down the spilling water, into any water that's in the tub, and, finally, to the metal drain. That means that anyone who's actually sitting in the tub when the water turns should get a lethal jolt of electricity.

That's my hope, anyway.

But a lot of things can go wrong, even if I've got all the electrical stuff figured out right.

For this to work, first of all, the cop actually has to stop by for his gross eleven o-clock bathing ritual. I can't really count on this, because for the first time in a long time he actually didn't take a bath in here yesterday. He just put Kyle outside in the rain and didn't return until he brought him back into the room. I'm hoping this means he'll really be ready for his bath today after skipping yesterday, but it could also mean he's just giving up on the whole thing.

And beyond this, he always makes me bathe first. So I have to be super careful not to get in the water when the faucet's running. And, when the cop comes into the bathroom, he can't notice that I've taken apart the outlet behind the tub. And, he actually has to turn the water on when he's sitting in the tub . . . which he's never done before.

But I have a plan for making him do that.

Anyway, it's like ten minutes to eleven now, so I have to go. I can't even see Kyle because the snow's falling so thickly.

If this is my last post, I just want to say that you guys have been amazing. Seriously. Without all of your support through all of this, I don't think I could have made it this far. I wish I could say more to express how truly, truly grateful I am to all of you guys who are following me and reading this story.

But I have to go. The cop could knock on the door any minute now, and I can't leave this post on the screen. Just, sorry, I have to go. . . Bye.