Trapped: Until You Love Me by Mila Olsen

Author:Mila Olsen [Olsen, Mila]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Roman
Published: 2018-12-18T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

I’m pretty much only focused on Grey until afternoon, though that doesn’t keep me from asking myself a few basic questions. What supplies will I need in order to escape into the wilderness, and how do I collect them without Brendan noticing? I wish I could sit down and make a list, but I’m afraid Brendan would find it. Maybe I could put it in my closet, tuck it in among the newspaper articles. Brendan’s never looked in there. Why would he? On the other hand, do I know for sure that he doesn’t check up on me? He may have rummaged through there while I was in the bathroom or something. Then I have another idea: I could carry the list around with me, since he’s promised not to touch me.

I peek outside through the open side door. Brendan’s not far from the camper, gathering tinder for the fire. He prefers dry birch bark when he can find it, but there’s nothing in this area but spruce, pine, and a couple of larches. I doubt he’s about to go down to the lakeshore and leave me here by myself for that long.

I look down at Grey, who just finished some milk and is slumbering peacefully in the “baby sling” Brendan fashioned from an old sheet. Moving as cautiously as I can, I open one of the kitchen drawers. Plastic forks, knives, and spoons that Brendan washes and reuses, plus a couple of dull butter knives and a can opener that’s not particularly sharp. No pens, no pencils. I’m pretty sure I’ve already gone through every drawer in here and haven’t found anything usable, but this is also the first time I’ve gone looking for a pen. I open the next drawer: sandwich baggies, trash bags, spices, kitchen rags. I hesitate. Brendan probably doesn’t count the sandwich bags, and I’m going to have to keep my escape supplies somewhere. But where do I put the bag? Under the mattress? But what if Grey pees on it again and Brendan wants to re-make it?

I pull out a baggie, close the drawer, and stuff the baggie into the wardrobe underneath the newspaper articles. My fingers brush the dry paper. I’ll need to make the list somewhere. As if on autopilot, I slide the bottom article out from the pile. I folded it so that the article itself is on the inside. Carefully, very carefully, I tear a small strip off the edge. It’ll have to do. I can only take a few essentials with me, just what I’ll need to survive in the wilderness. And what I absolutely cannot do is think about all the things that could go wrong. I don’t have any idea where I am. I’m not even sure how many miles it is back to the main road Brendan turned off from. Plus, I’ve never been alone in the forest. If I get lost, I’ll probably freeze to death or die of thirst or... No, if I start seriously thinking about potential what-ifs, I’ll lose my nerve.

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