Part 2 (2/2)

I bit back my involuntary exclamation. Jackson and Colby stormed in, knives at the ready. ”What the h.e.l.l's goin' on?” Jackson demanded. He glanced at me to confirm that my ropes were still intact, then strode to the counter and roughly hauled Heather down. ”What the h.e.l.l were you trying to pull, b.i.t.c.h?”

She shook her head defiantly. He slapped her, hard, and turned to me. ”What was she tryin' to do?”

A d.a.m.n good question, especially as I hadn't the slightest idea. ”She didn't say, but I think she was trying to get out,” I said, hoping I was way off the mark. ”I guess she forgot about the security bars.”

He looked back at Heather, who was now looking sullen. From the doorway, Colby spoke up. ”I'll bet she was looking for something. Let's check those cupboards.”

Jackson dragged Heather back to her chair and then returned to the cabinet. I watched in helpless silence as he searched all the cabinet shelves and then, almost as an afterthought, climbed onto the counter and looked on top of it. With a triumphant war whoop, he pulled out the bayonet. ”Trying to get out, huh?” he sneered at me. ”Hot d.a.m.n! Wait'll Duke sees this.”

”Jackson,” Heather said, speaking to him for the first time, ”won't you let us go? Please? We can't hurt you anymore-you'll all be long gone before we could do anything.”

”Screw you, sister.” He looked at her a moment, as if wondering whether she should be punished for her escape attempt, then apparently decided against it.

Swinging the bayonet idly, he nodded at Colby. ”Let's get back to the cards. I don't think we'll have any more trouble from these two.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling crushed. The bayonet had been, at best, a very long shot, but somehow it had helped just to know it was there if I was ever able to get to it. Now that last chance was gone; and all because I hadn't had a convincing he ready when it had been needed. I'd blown it for us twice.

A faint sc.r.a.ping sound made me open my eyes. Heather had stood up again and was once more inching her way toward the sink. ”Heather-?”

”Shh!” she hissed. Her face held concentration, and not even a touch of the despair I was feeling. What was she up to?

I soon found out. Again she hoisted herself to a sitting position, on the edge of the sink itself this time. Instead of getting up on her knees, though, she extended her hands back toward the jagged spikes of gla.s.s in the broken window. Without hesitation-and without touching anything else-her fingers zeroed in on a particularly loose fragment. She tugged, breaking it free with only the slightest snap, and I finally realized what her plan had been. Hopping down with her prize, she started back toward me.

But we were still a long way from freedom. We now had something to cut the ropes with, but with my hands half-numbed from loss of circulation I knew I could never cut Heather's bonds without severing a vein in the process. Her hands were probably in the same condition, and even with her enhanced sense of touch she wouldn't do much better on my ropes. Still, it was our only hope.

Heather, however, seemed to have an entirely different idea. ”Open your legs an inch,” she whispered as she reached me. I started to object, but she seemed to know what she was doing, so I shut up and did as I was told. Turning so that her back was to me, she stooped down and placed the piece of gla.s.s directly between my knees. ”Close 'em,” she said.

”Wait a second, Heather, this is too dangerous,” I objected, suddenly realizing what she had in mind. ”Why don't you go around and cut my ropes instead?”

She ignored the suggestion. ”Close your knees and hold it tight,” she hissed furiously.

I did so. I was terrified for her hands, and my stomach was knotted at the thought of what was probably going to happen, but we were running out of time. If we did nothing before Duke returned, we were dead. Heather crouched a bit more, placed one of her bonds gingerly against the gla.s.s, and began to rub.

After all my fears it was like watching a minor miracle happen. Quickly, accurately, and with no wasted motion, Heather attacked the ropes around her wrists. Even with her hands undoubtedly numb she always seemed to know exactly where the ropes and gla.s.s were relative to her skin, almost as if she had eyes in the back of her head. Only once did she so much as scratch herself, and that was due to a momentary loss of balance that made her sway a little.

Seconds later her hands were free. Sitting down on the floor, she took the gla.s.s from between my knees and set to work on her ankle ropes. They were off almost immediately. For another few seconds she remained where she was, grimacing as the blood flowed back into her hands and feet. Then she stood up and walked around behind me, and I felt her fingers tugging and probing at the ropes on my wrists. ”Come on, hurry up,” I muttered impatiently.

”Just a minute,” she whispered back, her voice strangely tense. Her examination finally over, she began to cut my ropes, moving much more slowly than she had earlier. Despite her caution, though, she nicked me twice and once even managed to cut her own finger. However she had worked her earlier miracle, things unfortunately seemed to be back to normal now.

But finally I was free, and as I rubbed life back into my tingling hands Heather cut the ropes on my feet and those tying me to the chair. Standing up carefully, I tiptoed over to the cupboard and utensil drawers to arm myself. A large pan lid and carving fork went into my left hand, the fork extending a couple of inches past the lid's rim; a one-piece wooden rolling pin, the housewife's traditional weapon, went into my right. I handed Heather a small metal frying pan and positioned her by the swinging door. ”I'll announce myself before I come back in,” I told her. ”If anyone else comes through, clobber him.””All right.” She paused. ”They're both still sitting on the couch playing cards.

The bayonet is on the floor in front of Jackson.”

I nodded. I still didn't understand Heather's strangely capricious radar, but for the moment the how and why were irrelevant. She seemed to know how it worked and when it could be trusted, and that was what mattered right now. ”Good. This should only take a minute.”

”Be careful, Neil,” she said, moving next to me for a quick hug.

I kissed her. ”You bet, honey.” Facing the door, I settled my nerves for combat. I'd nearly blown it for us twice now. This time was going to be different.

And it was.

The rest of the incident, though not without some danger, was straightforward and almost not worth mentioning. Jackson and Colby, taken completely by surprise, were easy to overpower and tie up. By the time Duke and the others came trooping back, Heather and the two prisoners were safely locked in the cabin and I was outside with my bow and arrows and lots of cover. The boys put up some resistance, but they had no real chance, and after two of them collected arrows in the shoulder they finally gave up. I marched the whole group to Hemlock, confirming my story by taking the town leaders to the body in the woods. Frontier justice being what it is, the boys were found guilty of murder and hanged that evening.

The stars were s.h.i.+ning through gaps in the cloud cover when I returned to the cabin. Heather had left a candle burning in the window and was waiting for me on the couch. ”How did it go?” she asked quietly.

”They were convicted. I'm giving their bikes to the town; some of the men will come by tomorrow to pick them up.”

She nodded. ”I'm almost sorry for them... but I don't suppose we could have let them go.”

”No. If it bothers you too much, try thinking about their victim.” I sat down next to her. ”Heather, we have to talk. I need to know how you were able to do the things you did today. I think you know what I mean.”

”Yes.” Her smile was bittersweet, with traces of fear and weariness, and I suddenly realized this wasn't the first time she'd had this discussion. ”You're wondering if I'm really blind or somehow faking it.” She nodded heavily. ”Yes, I am completely and totally blind. My eyes are useless. But the... disease, accident, whatever... that blinded me did something strange to my brains optic center.

Somehow, I'm able to pick up the images that all nearby people are getting. In other words, I can see-sort of-but only through other people's eyes.”I nodded slowly as all sorts of pieces finally fell into place. ”That was one possibility that never occurred to me,” I said. ”A lot of things make sense now, though. What sort of range do you have?”

”Oh, thirty or forty feet.” She sounded vaguely surprised. I wondered why, and then realized that the usual reaction was probably one of shock or revulsion. I wasn't following the pattern.

”It must have been rough for you,” I said gently, taking her hand in mine.

She shrugged, too casually. ”A little. I haven't told very many people. They usually... aren't sympathetic.”

”I can imagine. I'm glad you told me, though.”

”I couldn't hardly keep it a secret after all that stuff with the ropes,” she smiled faintly. Then she turned serious again, and when she spoke her voice was low and just a little apprehensive. ”Do you want me to leave?”

”Don't be silly. My gosh, Heather, is that why you held out on me this long?

You thought I would toss you out?”

”Well...” She squeezed my hand. ”No, not really; not after the first two months. By then I knew you cared for me and wouldn't treat me like a freak or something worse. But...” Her voice trailed off.

But she couldn't override her own defenses, I decided. Not really surprising- a good set of defenses would be vital to protect her from both external and internal a.s.saults. I thought of what it must have been like, waking up that first time to see your body from someone else's point of view. No wonder she'd almost gone insane.

And a horrible thought hit me like a sledgehammer.

Heather must have sensed my tension, for she gripped my hand tightly. ”Neil!

What is it?”

It took me two tries to get the words out through my suddenly dry mouth.

”Those hoodlums. If you could see through them... you saw my face.”

She sighed. ”Neil, I've known what you look like since the first night you brought me here. I saw your reflection in the kitchen window while you were was.h.i.+ng the dinner dishes.”

I stared at her, my head spinning. No wonder she'd cried herself to sleep that night! ”But if you knew-?”

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