The Sacrificial Lamb Read Online Free PDF

near future anyway, but at least alive, she could plot some sort of escape.
    Like she’d done the previous nights, Alex made a continuous circle around the plain concrete room. It had been painted an institutional gray, but the dampness seeping through the concrete had caused the paint to bubble up and peel. Thanks to the bucket where she was forced to void her bowels, the smell in the room was revolting. Wet concrete, soggy paint, and mildew, all overlaid with the stench of her own feces, which made her want to vomit. There were no windows or any other exits except for the single-bolted metal door. No way to air the stink out, and unfortunately, no way to break out either. The only way out would be the way she came in, and unless she magically acquired some superhuman powers from breathing in noxious fumes, that wasn’t likely to happen.
    At least she was no longer crying. Somewhere along the line, her tears had dried up. Alex realized that since these could be the last days of her life, spending them sobbing wasn’t a particularly good use of her time. Instead, she was going to try to figure out ways to use her meager resources in an effort to escape. After what had happened today, Alex felt especially galvanized.
    The cot was made of metal, which would have made a good weapon except for the fact that the frame was welded together. There was some rust along the edges but not enough for her to pry a piece loose. Under the rotted-out mattress she’d been hoping to find something she could use, but the crisscrossing latticework was too flimsy and also constructed as one large section. She tried to pull on it to see if there were any weak spots, but all it did was rattle loudly. Alex stopped after a few attempts when she heard a chair dragging along the floor in the other room.
    She sat back on the bed just in time to see the panel open in the door as one of her captors checked on her. In order to seem less suspicious she bounced a bit, making it look as if she’d been getting comfortable. The springs began to creak in protest, a sound similar to when she’d tried to pull the bed apart.
    When the panel in the door closed she waited a few more minutes, her heart pounding in her chest like a manic jackhammer. Alex heard the men start talking again in muted tones, and after a few minutes she was back working at the springs of the cot. This time she used the mattress to mute the noise, but no matter where she pulled and tugged, the springs remained steadfast. She gave a last desperate tug before sitting on the floor in defeat.
    Alex’s hands were covered in grime and rust, and she wiped them against her skirt, but it didn’t do much good. All it did was transfer smear marks to the dark fabric instead. Not that it mattered—she was already filthy from being in this room for three days. Exhaling in a gust, she gathered her strength and stood up.
    The next object up for scrutiny had been the wooden chair against the wall. Once again, she started to tug on the pieces to see if any were loose or could be knocked out. The back was just a flat panel held up by two long, thin slats of wood. They were glued in tight however and didn’t budge. Next she flipped the chair over to see if the legs screwed in. Still no luck, those were also secured tightly and so were the crosspieces. Alex considered smashing the chair against the floor in order to get a piece she could use against the men but soon figured out that wouldn’t work. The noise would surely draw them to the door to see what was happening, and when they figured it out, both men would come in the room guns in hand. There would be no way to fight with just a baton of wood. If it wasn’t for that stupid view panel in the door, she might have had a chance.
    Unfortunately, those were the only furnishings in the room. No handy lamps with which to brain a captor, and the chair was heavier than it looked. She was more likely to injure herself as opposed to her enemies with the