Page 6 of Corpse Roads

It’s a bone.

Laura’s… arm.

I drag the prize back to my cage, silently crying as chunks of matted hair and rotting flesh smear across my palm.

“What now?”

This cage is rusted to hell.

Jam it in the door.

Use your strength.

“What strength? This is so stupid. He’s going to kill me.”

Jesus, Harlow.

You're arguing with yourself here.

Shaking my fuzzy head, I search the door’s mechanism with my fingers and find the hinges. They’re strong but old, corroded by the damp air.

Working with nothing but intuition, I jam Laura’s brittle bone between the slices of metal, working it back and forth. I’m praying. Begging. Pleading for salvation.

The bone snaps.

Shards fall through my fingertips.

I scream in frustration, smashing my fists against the bars hard enough to jolt my broken ribs. Pain ripples through me so intensely, it blurs my vision. I fight to remain upright.

When the wave of agony dissipates enough for me to take a breath, I reach out for another bone. My fingers connect with something hard and textured in the dark.

I think it’s her leg bone this time. Long and curved, it’s crusted with dried blood. Returning to the cage door, the bone snaps again, too weak to withstand the lock.

Do you want to die here?

“No!” I shout back.

Then keep working.

Dripping with ice-cold sweat, I begin to lose energy. This will never work. I’m destined to die here, among the ghostly screams of the girls I failed to protect.

In many ways, I see the darkness into which I was born as a comforting absence of light. In these shadows, I learned to swallow my screams and play the obedient good girl.

A few desperate tears manage to escape my eyes, despite my dehydration. I lick the salty liquid away as it stings my sore lips. It isn’t enough. If I don’t get out, I’m going to die.

One more try. If this doesn’t work, I’ll accept my death. With a frantic scramble, I manage to seize Laura’s other leg. Slotting the joint into place, I go slower this time, coaxing the groaning metal.

This cage has never changed. The hinges are old, weakened by rust. A loud, metallic groan fills my ears. Then, snap. There’s a frightening thunderclap of noise.

The door... cracks open.

It worked.

I’m paralysed, staring at the open doorway like a deer in headlights. I can’t step through it. I haven’t set foot outside this cage before, and even the rest of the shadowy basement feels terrifying.

Clutching my shirt tight to my emaciated body, I cuddle Laura’s damaged leg bone even closer. She will never walk free, just like the others didn’t. But… I could take her with me. If I can find the strength to do it.

“Move, Harlow,” I order shakily. “Just move.”