Chapter 110 A Risky Escape Plan

Chapter 110 A Risky Escape Plan
Alyssa’s POV

My throat felt dry as I blinked at Louisa, wondering what she meant.
“What do you mean… something in your pocket?”

Her nostrils flared. “I always carry a pocket knife with me. If you can… if you can somehow drag your chair closer to me, you might be able to reach it. Then maybe… we can cut ourselves free.”

Hope hit me so suddenly it almost hurt. 

“I’ll try,” I said immediately, even though my entire body screamed in protest.

“Be careful,” she whispered, her eyes darting nervously toward the exit door.

I shifted my weight and pushed against the ground, the legs of the chair scraping harshly against the concrete floor.

The sound echoed loud and my breath hitched.

“The chair is making noise,” I muttered, panic rising in my chest.

Louisa’s lips trembled. “This is our best bet, Alyssa. We don’t have another choice.”

I blinked away the tears threatening to blur my vision and forced myself to move again.

The chair resisted me, dragging slowly, painfully, every inch feeling like I was pulling a mountain behind me. My wrists burned against the rope, my shoulders screamed, and my head spun from exhaustion, but I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t. Not when there was a chance.

It felt like forever before I finally managed to angle myself behind Louisa, my back facing her, my hands tied tightly behind the chair.

“I… I can see you now,” I said weakly. “But my hands… they’re barely reaching you.”

“You’re close,” Louisa urged, her voice tight with urgency. “Shift back a little. Just a little more. You’re almost there.”

I pushed again, forcing my body backward.

My tied hands brushed against the rough fabric of her jeans.

“I just touched you,” I said quickly. “Your jeans—”

“Yes!” Louisa breathed. “That’s it. Find the pocket. The right one. There’s a small slit—just feel for it.”

I fumbled blindly, my fingers grazing fabric, slipping, missing.

“No…wait…lower,” she directed. “A little to the left… no, right—Alyssa, focus.”

“I’m trying,” I whispered, frustration and panic tangling in my chest.

My fingers slipped again.

And again.

“God…” I muttered under my breath.

“You’re close,” Louisa insisted. “Don’t stop.”

Finally—finally—my fingers caught the edge of the pocket, touching the base of the knife.

“I found it,” I gasped.

But the chair shifted dangerously beneath me, pulling me off balance and making my hand miss it.

“Careful!” Louisa hissed.

I leaned back instinctively, and the chair creaked violently, tipping for a split second before I jerked forward again, my heart slamming against my ribs.

We both froze.

We went completely still.

Listening and waiting for sign that our little rebellion had attracted unwanted attention.

But we were met with silence.

Louisa exhaled shakily. “Try again.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me, and leaned back more carefully this time.

My fingers slipped into the pocket and finally got to hold it passively but it was barely grabbing it.

“I feel it,” I whispered.

“Good. Grab it. Slowly.”

I stretched further, ignoring the way my shoulders burned, and managed to hook my fingers around the knife.

“Come on…” I muttered, dragging it upward awkwardly.

For a terrifying second, it almost slipped.

But then—

It came free.

I gasped, relief crashing through me.

Louisa’s lips parted into a silent, disbelieving smile.
“Thank God,” she mouthed. “We have hope. We can leave here.”

I really hope so.

“Now,” she whispered, urgency returning into her voice, “get behind me and cut the rope. Hurry.”

“I’ll try,” I said, already shifting again and internally begging the universe to be on our side.

Dragging the chair this time felt even harder. My strength was draining fast, my body trembling, sweat soaking through my clothes as I forced myself around to her back.

“I feel sick,” I admitted weakly.

“I’m sorry,” Louisa consoled me. “But this is our only option.”

I nodded, swallowing hard.

Finally, I positioned myself behind her.

“Can you see the rope?” she asked.

I tilted my head, squinting through the dim light. “Yes… I see it.”

“Then cut it. Try.”

My grip on the knife tightened.

“God… please help me,” I whispered under my breath.

I leaned back awkwardly, guiding the blade toward the rope.

It touched it.

“Yeah—yes! That’s it,” Louisa urged. “Keep going.”

I started sawing at the rope, my movements clumsy, restricted.

Nothing happened.

“It’s not cutting,” I said, panic creeping in.

“Add some pressure,” Louisa said quickly. “You have to push harder, Alyssa.”

I clenched my teeth and pressed harder, dragging the blade back and forth.

Pain shot through my wrists.

My arms trembled.

But I didn’t stop even when it felt like my nerves would cut.

“Keep going,” Louisa whispered with shaky voice m. “It’s loosening—I can feel it.”

Hope surged through me again.

I pushed harder, ignoring the dizziness clawing at my vision.

And then—The rope snapped.

I blinked in disbelief. “Did I…?”

Louisa’s hands came free, and she turned toward me, her eyes wide.

“You did.”

A tired smile broke across my face.

She grabbed the knife immediately and moved behind me, cutting through my bindings with quick, urgent movements until the rope fell away.

Freedom.

I tried to stand, but my knees buckled instantly.

Louisa caught me just in time. “Hey—hey. Not now. This isn’t the time to collapse.”

I nodded weakly, gripping her arm.

“Fred should be asleep by now,” she said quickly. “And it doesn’t look like he has anyone else around. This is our chance. We leave now.”

We moved toward the door together.

She tried the handle but it was locked.

My heart sank. What did I expect?

“We need another way, and we need to think fast.” I whispered.

We searched frantically, moving through the dusty room, checking every corner for every possible exit.

Nothing.

Then Louisa’s gaze snapped to the window.

Her eyes sharpened as if she’d just gotten an idea. “We need something heavy.”

“What are you—”

“I’m breaking the window glass.”

“That will make noise,” I countered, fear interfering with logic.

“And we’ll be gone before he gets here,” she shot back. “Or we die anyway. Choose.”

I swallowed.

She was right.

“There’s nothing here,” I said, scanning around desperately.

“We improvise.” She rushed to a metal chair, lifted it with effort, then brought it towards the window and swung it hard against the glass.

CRACK.

The sound shattered the silence.

She hit it again and my wasted body wondered where she found the strength from.

The glass splintered further.

“Come on,” she muttered, her breath heavy as she put more pressure and struck.

We won’t be caught. I affirmed with a pounding heart and bitter mouth.

To my total surprise, the window broke open.

“Go,” Louisa said as she turned to me. “You have to jump through it. I’ll…push you up.”

I frowned. “What about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you.”

I hesitated.

“Alyssa, go!”

I nodded and climbed onto the ledge, my body screaming in protest.

Louisa pushed from below. “Hurry.”

“I’m trying,” I grunted, struggling to pull myself through.

And just then- as if the universe had decided that we wouldn’t get lucky, his voice came through.

“Well… seems like you two prefer death after all.”

Terror slammed into me.

I froze in the frailed position I was.

Fred was here.

I turned slightly, my body half out the window.

Louisa was still inside.

“Run!” she shouted. “Alyssa, go!”

No way. Fred was closing in on her. I couldn’t leave her.