Simple and plain, with only a few shelves against the walls, it looked like a concrete bunker that Mildred remembered from her days before being cryogenically preserved. The jars on the shelves held canned foods, vegetables and fruits. The concrete walls had been poured rather than mortared of blocks. Two lanterns hung on the walls, creating a pall of smoke that clung to the low, untextured ceiling.
“You,” Kirkland said, “have had the misfortune of becoming a bargaining chit in the game I intend to play with your leader. You see, there have been stories of a plague that haunts this ville. Yet none of the seven of you seemed to be aware of it. And you came into the ville in the company of Albert, whom I personally know Liberty only keeps around as a token of amusement. Albert must be setting might high store on himself these days if he thinks I believe Liberty would let him come into Hazard alone with strangers.”
“Or maybe he wasn’t crediting you with being too intelligent,” Mildred replied.
A cold smile twisted Kirkland’s face. “At any rate, all of you made mistakes regarding me.”
“That remains to be seen,” Mildred replied. “I guess you figure on using me against Ryan?”
Kirkland spread his hands. “That, I would think, would be fundamentally clear at this point.”
“Maybe so.” Mildred smiled coldly back at the man. Inside, she was afraid. She didn’t like the idea of being trapped and helpless. However, one might be true, but the other wasn’t necessarily so. She already felt some slack in the leather around her left wrist. “But you made a mistake, too.”
“Would you care to explain?”
“Sure. You made a mistake in thinking a man like Ryan would give a rat’s ass about me.”
Kirkland’s brows knitted. He leaned forward in his chair. “I find your idioms, madam, most interesting. When I take in the fact that you seem to be somewhat skilled in the field of medicine, you become even more interesting.”
“Maybe you could cut me loose from this chair,” Mildred suggested, “and we can find out just how interesting I can be.”
“I don’t think so.” Kirkland stood and walked to one of the lanterns nearest him. “Though that suggestion may further inspire my curiosity at a later date.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Mildred promised. Kirkland blew out the lantern’s flame, dimming the light in the room. “I assure you,” he said, “that you will have no choice in the matter.” He took the second lantern from the wall and headed up a set of rickety wooden steps that further led Mildred to believe she was somewhere underground. “I do hope you’re not afraid of the dark.”
Mildred forced herself to keep still as she watched Kirkland and his two men crawl out of the room through a trapdoor at the top of the stairs. Thrown bolts spilled heavy echoes into the room. The acrid stink of smoke made Mildred sneeze.
She waited a few beats in the complete darkness, struggling with a fear that threatened to consume her. When she heard no other noises, she began to work on the leather binding her left wrist. The rough material chafed her skin, settling into a fierce burn that forced her to give up. Loose as it was, the leather thong still maintained enough friction to restrain her.
Then she thought about the jars of foodstuffs sitting on the shelves. They’d contain juices. Gingerly she leaned forward in the chair, struggling to clear it off the ground. Her ankles ground in pain as her feet rose heel up, her weight resting on the ball of her foot. Cautiously, knowing if she tipped over she’d never have another chance to save herself, she scooted over toward the shelves she remembered being nearest.
Her efforts yielded her less than an inch at a time, and the pain involved was great. The increased effort also caused the knot of swelling on her right temple to throb even more painfully, and her bruised stomach muscles rebelled at the demands being made on them.
After six attempts, she was forced to rest. The sound of her gulping air was the only sound in the room. She sat, trying to quieten her quivering stomach muscles so they would be ready for the next round of agony.
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