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| Out of the Woods |

Out of the Woods: Chapter 18   

“You’re gonna use a knife to cut the ropes? But your hands are tied too... you won’t be able to see what you’re doing...”

 

The rope was tied in a tight, merciless knot. Avi’s wrists chafed against the roughness.

“How, exactly, are we going to take these off?” he asked Elchanan helplessly.

Elchanan glanced over at the sleeping guard, then began scooting along the floor carefully. “With this,” he said, finally, jerking his head toward a knife tossed haphazardly on the tent floor beside an ancient-looking black pot. “We’ll have to do each other...”

Avi’s eyes widened. “You’re gonna use a knife to cut the ropes? But your hands are tied too... you won’t be able to see what you’re doing...”

“Do you have a better idea?” Elchanan was working his way across the floor again. He swiveled round, gripping the knife in his tied hands. “I won’t move. You position yourself in the right place... and just move the rope back and forth along the blade, it should cut through. And then you can take care of mine.”

Avi looked at the gleaming blade, then he thought of the men outside... and the Boss, who would be waking up at any moment. Slowly, he wriggled around, positioning his bound wrists opposite the knife. They were sitting back-to-back now; neither of them could see the knife.

“Don’t move,” Avi breathed, as he stretched the rope taut and slowly, delicately, probed the air for the sharp blade.

There it was... a little to the right... “Hold it still, hold it!”... the rope was starting to fray... Avi worked his aching wrists up and down, up and down, forcing the rope against the knife until finally, the bonds fell away and his hands were free.

“Got it!”

Avi jumped up, a surge of energy running through him. Maybe things weren’t hopeless after all. He would untie Elchanan, they would sneak past the guard sleeping at the entrance of the tent, and somehow they would get out of here and back into the forest… How long would it take to find the search parties? How long would it take to get home?

His hands worked mechanically, sawing through the ropes tying Elchanan’s hands. Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, nearly there…

The man guarding them gave a deep sigh, and the snoring stopped. Avi froze.

“Come onnn!” Elchanan hissed, in an agonized whisper.

Snap! The severed ropes slithered to the ground. The guard grunted, shifted a little, and started to snore again.

“Let’s get out of here,” Avi breathed. His heart was still racing from fright. He didn’t think he could wait another minute to try make their escape without losing his nerve completely.

“One minute,” Elchanan mouthed back. “Let’s wait until he’s deeply asleep again. In the meantime…” he crept toward the tall containers they’d noticed earlier. “I’m going to see what they have in there…”

Fear shot up Avi’s spine.

“Wait — what if they — what if he wakes up…”

But Elchanan was already a few feet away, prying open the first of the containers, and Avi, with a terrified glance at the sleeping guard, followed.

The container opened easily. Too easily. Inside was just one narrow object.

“It’s heavy,” Elchanan muttered, fingers scrabbling for a hold. “You think it’s gold or something?”

“It looks like a frame,” Avi murmured back. “You know, like a picture frame…”

It was a picture frame. A large, ornate, old-fashioned gold-and-black frame, surrounding a large canvas with a painting of a foreboding-looking farmhouse set in a dusky field. A painting that looked… familiar.

“I’ve seen that before,” Avi whispered, and he reached out to touch the frame. “I’ve seen this picture — one minute —”

The pieces came together in a dazzling rush of clarity. “They’re stolen! These paintings are stolen… they’re from the Museum of National Art, I knew I’d seen it before! This one, it’s worth millions, I saw it in the papers, it’s by some famous artist from the Middle Ages, they were trying to track it down…”

He stopped short. Was Elchanan laughing? Did he even realize what he was holding in his hands? The police — the entire art world — were desperately trying to get their hands on these paintings.

“I’m serious,” he began, defensively.

Elchanan replaced the painting in its box. “I know,” he said, still smiling. “It’s not that. It’s just that… I honestly don’t know another kid in the class who would’ve known what those paintings were.”

Avi narrowed his eyes — there he goes again — but Elchanan interrupted him. “It’s a good thing. Seriously. Like, it comes in handy. You know.”

Avi paused. “I guess,” he said, finally. This conversation was… strange. “Hey,” he said, spotting something on the ground. “What is that?”

Elchanan followed his gaze. “Uh, ropes?”

Several lengths of rope were shoved between the containers, like someone had put them there in a hurry.

“Yes,” Avi said, his mind working furiously. “It’s ropes, right? Like the ones they used to tie us up?”

“So what?” Elchanan asked, shrugging as he made to open the next box. “We know they have ropes.”

“No, we don’t.” Avi put out a hand to stop him. “Remember? They wanted to tie our legs too, and the guy said — he told them—”

“He said he couldn’t find any more rope,” Elchanan said, eyes widening. “So you mean…”

“He lied to them.”

They looked at each other. Elchanan frowned first. “But why?”

Avi spread out his hands. He had no idea why the young, scared-looking guard would hide the rest of the rope to help them.

“Well, at least we’re untied now, and we know what these guys are up to,” Elchanan said, and despite the bleakness of their situation, there was satisfaction in his tone. “So we just have to get out of here, and—” He stopped short, and Avi saw his face drain of color.

“What—”

He spun around, and felt his feet sway beneath him.

The guard at the entrance was awake.

For a moment, he looked just as terrified as they did.

“W — what are you doing? How did you get untied?” he stammered, voice trembling slightly. In the early morning light filtering into the tent, he looked younger and more vulnerable than ever.

“We can get him between us,” Elchanan muttered to Avi, very fast, his eyes never leaving the guard. “Let’s tackle him and tie him up, then run for it before he raises the alarm—”

There were so many flaws with this plan that Avi didn’t even know how to respond.

“What if he shouts for help?” he whispered back, just as Elchanan said, “Charge!” and ran full force towards the entrance.

“Noooo!” the man rasped, alarmingly loud in the silence. “You don’t understand — he’ll kill us all — I’ll—”

A noise from outside the tent interrupted; a long, low hooting sound, like some sort of horn blowing. Something shifted, more noises, and a shadow passed by the tent. Elchanan skidded to a halt and looked back at Avi, uncertain, and in that moment, without warning, the young man pounced. He looked thin and wiry, but he was surprisingly strong. Within a minute, Elchanan was overpowered and tied up again, and the guard shoved him back into the corner of the tent.

Afterward, Avi could’ve kicked himself — why didn’t he do something, try to help, fight the man… but in the moment, all he could do was watch in stunned horror, and when the young man twisted his arms behind his back and tied them tightly together, he didn’t even try to protest.

What was the point? The campsite was buzzing with noise now, there was no chance of escape anymore with everyone awake, and his heart pounded so hard he was worried it would burst open.

Elchanan’s eyes were huge and helpless. Avi felt a strange apathy settle on his limbs, an exhaustion. They’d fought so hard, just to be recaptured—

There was a roar from outside, so loud and ferocious it was almost animalistic. All at once, the activity outside the tent seemed to speed up, intensify, and the tent flap was ripped open with another bellow of rage.

Elchanan was utterly still, he seemed to be frozen. Avi felt his hands, his heart, his entire body shaking.

The Boss had arrived.

to be continued…

 

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 880)

 

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