Bound To Parish by David Filla

Author:David Filla [Filla, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-04-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Beverly

It was night again. Bev could tell from the choir of cicadas, crickets, and frogs that rumbled all around her. The occasional splash could be heard in the distance, either a bullfrog – or something larger – entering the water for an evening adventure. Owls called out from all directions, answering each other or searching for food. It had been two feedings since the man had rambled about her "purpose". In actual time, she had no idea how long it had been. A week? Maybe two? She measured time in feedings now.

Bev didn't sleep most nights. She'd get an hour of rest here and there, but the majority of the time was spent sitting in the dark, thinking. Plotting. Trying to find a way out of her situation. Nights were the best time for it. During the day, the smokehouse became swelteringly hot, and much of her time was spent lying on the ground, trying to stay cool. She'd managed to dig a shallow trench near the large U-shaped pipe that held her shackle, which helped regulate the temperature a bit, but generally her days were spent sweating on the ground and sipping warm water from the jug the man brought her. When night fell and the heat of the sun started to fade, she found herself awake and more alert, so she spent what time she could looking for ways out.

Although her willpower was starting to fade, and whatever hope she had of escaping this dingy shack had hit an all time low, she'd decided tonight would be a final push to freedom. When she'd awoken today, she'd spotted one of the dowels from the back wall lying on the dirt floor behind her. It must have fallen at some point; she couldn't be sure when. After waiting for the sun to go down and being sure the man wasn't coming with food tonight, she'd splayed out and stretched as far as she could, managing to catch the dowel with the tips of her fingers and inch it closer until she was able to grab it.

The man. He'd talked about his family, using his family name. Menoit. She'd heard that name before, she was sure of it, but she couldn't place it.

Now, holding the dowel in her hands, running her thumb over the splintered end that had held it to the wall, she looked around the room. What could she use it for? She thought of trying to wedge it between links in the chain, using the leverage to break one, but the chain was thick – boat chain – and it would do nothing but snap the flimsy wood. She thought about sharpening the splintered edge, creating a shiv of sorts, and attacking the man when he came next. That didn't help her escape however, it just solidified the fact that she would die in this dark, dank building.

She was here because she was part of the plan to bring the family back to greatness. What did

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