Free September by Gabrielle Lord Page B

But after he’d been carrying on for a while, I started to panic—every wasted second brought our arrests closer.
    ‘Listen,’ I snapped, ‘you’re not the only one in this mess. You think you have problems? I’ll be spending the rest of my life in maximum security!’
    ‘I was only ever trying to help you!’ he shouted at me.
    Something Dad used to say came into my mind: when you’re in a tight spot, don’t waste energy whingeing about the situation. Instead, use that energy to find a solution.
    ‘Repro, we have to find a way out of this. Now. For both of our sakes.’
    ‘I’ve been outwitting those bluecoats for years,’ he said, twisting his skinny fingers, trying to get at the knots that tied him. ‘It’s humiliating to be trussed up and delivered to them like this.’
    ‘So help me think of a way out of here.’
    ‘You heard them hammering and nailing,’ he said. ‘We’ll need a bulldozer to get out of here when they’re done.’
    ‘We need to get our hands and feet free, first. We can figure the rest out after that.’
    ‘And we can’t even try the emergency tunnel, all tied up like this,’ he said.
    ‘Emergency tunnel? What are you talking about?’
    ‘There was a tunnel that I used to use sometimes to get out of here, but I haven’t tried it in a long time because of the dangerous rockfalls.’
    ‘Right!’ I said, recalling him mentioning it ages ago. I jumped my chair around in a three-point turn to face him. ‘If there is another way out of here, we have a chance. We have to take the risk!’
    ‘You don’t know what you’re saying. There’s no chance. We’re tied up like a pair of Christmas turkeys and the emergency tunnel is practically a death trap.’
    ‘We have to try it!’
    Repro stared intensely at his bookcase. ‘It’s behind there. If you push that aside, you’ll find the entrance of a small tunnel that connects to the underground drainage section of that railway line you nearly got creamed on. Remember?’
    ‘How could I ever forget?’
    ‘There was a rockfall when I was in there a while ago, and I was nearly buried alive. Buried alive!’
    I shivered. I knew what that fear felt like.
    ‘Anyway,’ said Repro, shaking his head, ‘it’s not even an option. Look at us!’ he said, trying unsuccessfully to wriggle his hands and feet free.
    ‘We have to try,’ I urged, jumping my chair a little more. I found that if I did it vigorously enough, I could actually inch myself across the floor. If I could get to Repro and turn myself and the chair around, my fingers might be able to undo the knots that were tying him, or his long, supple fingers might be able to undo mine. ‘We don’t have much time,’ I said. ‘I’m coming over! You’re going to undo my ropes for me.’
    I jumped myself across the dusty floor, squeezing past the table until finally I landed myself beside the bed. With immense effort, I jumped the chair around so that I was facing away fromhim and my bound wrists were behind me, lined up with Repro’s fingers.
    ‘Start working your magic,’ I ordered. ‘Get my hands free, then I’ll get yours free. Fast!’
    His fingers immediately started scrambling, awkwardly prodding and pulling at the knots behind me.
    ‘Hurry!’ I pleaded.
    ‘I’m going as fast as I can! The cavalry will be here any minute now—don’t you think I know that? Pipe down and keep still!’
    I gritted my teeth, trying to stop myself from saying any more. Sweat was running down my forehead and stinging my eyes.
    ‘Almost there,’ he said as I felt the ropes on my hands loosening.
    I twisted my hands, squeezed my fingers together, trying to make them as compact and narrow as possible.
    ‘I’m free!’ I yelled.
    ‘That you are! Now hurry up and free me!’
    I leaned down and began working frantically on the ropes at my feet first. The second I had them out, I jumped up and started pulling at the ropes around Repro’s hands and the bedhead.
    When we were both