Once I was free, I quickly put my boots on and checked my pockets to see if by chance I still had my phone or anything I could use to escape, like the pocket knife I always carried with me. As I suspected, my pockets were completely empty. At least I still had my cut.
When I was growing up, my mom would tell me to find something positive whenever I was in a bad situation. Having my cut was it. Because it reminded me that I wasn’t alone. I knew I wouldn’t have been alone even if it was gone, but I was clinging to the symbolism like a lifeline.
Taking a deep breath, I moved to the door and closed my eyes as I reached for the handle, silently praying it was unlocked.
In any other circumstance, a locked door wouldn’t have been an issue for me. I was great with locks, when I had my tools to pick them, which I usually did. But with my pockets empty, I was on my own.
I couldn’t contain the smile that spread across my face when I turned the knob, and the door opened with ease. Whoever took me either overestimated their skills or underestimated mine. It was unfortunate for them, but wonderful for me.
Stepping out of the room, I paused once again to listen for any indication that I wasn’t alone. When I was sure I hadn’t heard anything, I cautiously proceeded forward until I came to a set of stairs, which seemed to be the only way out.
Hoping luck would be on my side once again, I reached for the door handle and gave it a turn. I struggled to contain my growl of frustration when I found it to be locked.
“Shit,” I whispered and slowly descended the stairs to look for something I could use to get the door open.
Unlike the room I’d been in previously, the main part of the basement wasn’t empty. Feeling along the wall as I made my way around the room, I found a light switch and flipped it on. The overhead lights flickered to life, illuminating the room and allowing me to see clearly for the first time in hours.
I walked over to a stack of boxes and started searching. After digging through several boxes, I found a screwdriver. I’d hoped to find a pry bar, but the screwdriver would have to do.
The lock on the door was nothing special, just a standard lock one would find on an interior door of a home. I removed the screws holding the knob in place, followed by the knob, and manually moved the locking mechanism to the unlocked position. Then, I quietly eased the door open. It only opened an inch before the chain lock on the other side stopped it.
By that point, I was done with obstacles. My frustration boiled to an all-time high, and any concern I had of not being alone went out the proverbial window. I gripped the screwdriver tightly in my hand, raised my booted foot, and kicked the door open in one swift motion.
The door crashed into the wall behind it and echoed through the house. If anyone was in the house, they would know I was free. I didn’t wait around to see if anyone was coming. I really didn’t want to stab someone with the screwdriver if I didn’t have to. I certainly would. I just didn’t want to.
All I wanted to do was get home and make sure Aspen was okay. Nothing else mattered to me at that moment.
The main part of the house was dark and silent, leading me to believe I was indeed alone. But I still proceeded with caution. Someone had already gotten the drop on me, and I’d be damned if it was going to happen again.
Moving quickly through the house, I opened the first exterior door I came to and stepped outside, jogging to the nearby trees for cover. Then, I took a moment to look around. I had no idea where I was, and nothing looked familiar.
The house was actually a cabin, situated in a clearing surrounded by trees.
“Fucking great,” I mumbled to myself. I couldn’t see any lights in the distance or hear anything that indicated other people were nearby. Which meant I was likely at someone’s remote mountain retreat.
With no idea which way to go, I picked a direction and started walking. I wanted to get moving while I had the advantage of adrenaline coursing through me. I’d consider resting once I’d put more distance between me and the cabin.
I had to have been walking for hours when I came across a creek. For all I knew, I could have been wandering around in circles since I didn’t have anything to use as a point of reference. With the creek as my new guide, I continued on beside it, hoping it would lead me in the right direction.
It wasn’t long before I realized I was gradually descending. Tennessee was full of mountains, and remote cabins were plentiful, to say the least. But going down a mountain didn’t automatically mean I was headed toward civilization. I could just as easily be heading into a valley or ravine. But following the creek was my best option, so that’s what I did.
I walked until sunlight began to fill the sky. I’d wanted to take a break many times over the past few hours, but I’d convinced myself to keep going until the sun rose, hoping I’d be able to recognize something in the daylight. And I was sorely disappointed when I didn’t.
Defeat and exhaustion were starting to set in, no matter how hard I tried to keep them at bay. My wrists were covered in dried blood and ached constantly. I was beyond thirsty, and I still had a dull headache, likely from whatever was used to knock me out. Even still, I wasn’t at the point where I was willing to risk drinking water from the creek. If I got desperate, I would, but I felt like I could hold out a bit longer.
When the next round of exhaustion hit, I thought of my family and how worried they must be. I told myself it would be wrong to rest knowing they were out searching for me.
I’d been gone overnight, so I knew my brothers had come together and were out trying to find me, including my brothers in Croftridge.
The thought of Shaker flying over the forest with his helicopter and spotting me brought a small smile to my face. Even though it would be almost impossible for him to spot me through the trees, the thought gave me hope.
But as the hours passed, my hope faded. I’d walked countless miles to no avail. The only thing keeping me remotely grounded was knowing I was making progress. It was hard to keep my mind from getting carried away with all the possible outcomes. Every time I started to wonder if I’d ever see another person again, I thought of Aspen and my family and refocused my energy.
I was head over heels in love with her, and I hoped she knew how much she meant to me. If she didn’t, she would as soon as I got back. Because I was going to ask her to marry me as soon as I had the chance.
I wasn’t worried about her saying no or that she didn’t share the same feelings as me. My only concern was the timing. Our relationship had progressed quickly, and there was a chance she might think it was too soon for marriage. But I didn’t think that would be the case. She was my other half, and I was hers.
I kept my eyes focused on my feet, watching where I stepped, while I thought about how I’d propose to Aspen and what our wedding would be like.