Lewis reckoned their captors would leave them alone until after nightfall. He also recommended they attempt their escape at their captors’ first reappearance.
Try as they might, David and his friend had been able to find only one way out of their prison. They had turned first to the windows, and though one had broken relatively easily, the frames were far too narrow for either of them to fit through. And no one had heard (or heeded) their shouts for aid.
Which left the door through which they’d originally entered. No amount of pounding or prying budged the solid wood, so the sergeant had suggested they allow their captors to open it for them.
“Won’t they expect us to do something of this sort?” David had asked.
“Probably. Likely. But is there any other way to get free than to go through that door?” Lew had mused most calmly. “I reckon they still mean us harm, perhaps mortal harm. We’ve seen their faces and could identify them. Also, as you said, they went from assault to contemplating a double homicide in a matter of minutes – that we’re alive solely because murder in daylight is inconvenient. And if they intend to kill us, I imagine it will happen sooner than later before anyone begins to miss us. Allows greater likelihood of a clean escape for them. Without food or water, we’ll weaken quickly, so if we wish to escape at all, we must try sooner than later.”
The priest had nothing to counter his friend’s blunt, dispassionate logic, and so had made no rejoinder. But his dismay must have shown plainly on his face, for Lewis had reached out to grip his arm comfortingly.
“My words were cruel. Forgive me. I’ll do my best to get us free.”
David was sure he’d mumbled something in response to that – unmemorable though it was – and the rest of the afternoon had passed with little or no conversation between them.
But the priest was worried.
While the sergeant broke up one of the crates to make weapons of a sort and even apparently took a nap for a time, David paced.
He fretted.
He wracked his brain for some other way they might escape the fate that seemed so inevitable.
Yet he could think of nothing.
“Worrying won’t help us.”
His friend’s low, even voice interrupted David’s churning thoughts as early evening began to steal what little daylight illumined their prison.
“How can you be so calm?”
The policeman, who’d been reclining on the floor with his back against the wall under the windows, said nothing.
Still pacing, David began to vent his spleen.
“Does it not bother you that your life depends on someone like me to aid you in a coming fight? How can you so sedately consider what might very well be the end of both of us? You know how useful I’ll be; you know they outnumbered and overpowered us before, and will again most likely; you know—”
“—Stop.” Lew’s voice had an edge to it, and it halted him in his tirade. “Stop, David.”
The bobby levered himself to his feet and stalked forward until he loomed, glowering, over the priest. “Yes. I know all these things. We’re at a disadvantage. A severe one. I also know that that blond fellow is quite likely a better fighter than I, and we won’t be confronting our foes in top form....
“…And I am also aware that we might die as a result of our actions, our gamble for freedom. But what of it? We’re going to die someday. Whether in a few minutes, a day or two, or years from now.” He hesitated, and then finished softly: “I didn’t expect such fears from you. Such doubts. You’ve always been such a bastion of hope. Always the more courageous one of us.”
The sergeant’s words shamed him, and David hung his head.
“I’m afraid, Lew,” he murmured. “Unlike I’ve ever been before, including that time on the ship when I was alone in the dark for days.”
Yet again, the policeman gripped his shoulder comfortingly, but what further explanation the priest wanted to make was interrupted by the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside their prison.
* * * * *