Zen's War: Captivity

Finally that fateful day had come. Today was the Day of Atonement. It had begun the previous night at sundown. Being the most sacred day of The Days of Awe, the ceremony was especially extravagant. There had been a massive bonfire lit. It had been an especially eerie sight. Joshua was almost in a frenzy; his eyes sparkling with the same madness as usual. This was what her father had referred to as a mob mentality. Once again Bridget was under Joshua’s spell. How would she be able to leave if she was still so entranced by him? Sahara wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up leaving Bridget behind.

While the festivities were going on, Sahara managed to slip away. Somehow no one had noticed her departure in the midst of the hysteria. She had returned to the Temple to collect supplies and make provisions. She went directly to the cellar where the majority of the supplies were kept. These supplies included many nonperishable items such as canned beans and canned soups. She had found a burlap sack in the corner of the cellar that she would use to carry the supplies. She was not very big, but quite strong for her size. Still, she would need to be selective about what she would take with her. She could only carry so much. She grabbed five cans of beans and put them in the bag. Water was another matter entirely. She would have to sneak back outside to the well by the barn. To store the water she would use an old army canteen that she had found in the cellar.

She would wait till the next morning to leave. Since she could not get back into her room, she buried the bag by the well to pick up when she left. She then swiftly returned to the bonfire, without anyone even noticing she had been gone.

The morning had come and it was time for her to go; though, the sun had not even risen yet. In order to leave she would have to escape through the window. She wasn’t very good at climbing, so she was a little frightened to try. She couldn’t leave through the door because Bartholomew was guarding it. Because her room was on the second floor, it would be difficult to climb to the ground. It helped that the wall was made of logs. The logs were like the rungs of a ladder. Getting the window open would be slightly difficult because the cracks of the window were filled in with plaster. The other day she had found a small screwdriver in the cellar. She had taken the screwdriver and hidden it under the futon she slept on.

After lying awake all night and contemplating her morning escape, Sahara decided that it would be best to leave Bridget behind. Part of her felt that it was selfish, but another part of her felt that it was for the best. Bridget would just slow her down, and besides she was pregnant, making her in no shape to leave.

Finally the first rays of the morning sun shined through the window. It was now time for her to make her escape. Reaching under the futon she retrieved the screwdriver. She then took the screwdriver by its plastic handle, and walked over to the window then began to slowly scrape at the edges of the window. She had to be as quiet as possible, so as not to wake Bartholomew; however, it was Bridget that awoke.

“What are you doing?” Bridget asked groggily, from behind blood shot eyes.

“Don’t be so loud,” Sahara whispered. “You’ll wake Bartholomew, and then we’ll both be dead.”

“Don’t tell me you were going to leave without me. I thought that we were in this together,” Bridget whispered.

Sahara gave her a confused look, “When we talked about leaving together before, you seemed pretty uncertain about it. I don’t see how you’ll make it as pregnant as you are.”

“I admit that I’m uncertain about it. Part of me wants to stay here, another part of me wants to leave and never look back. At first, as you were, I was brought here against my will. As time has gone on I’ve become comfortable. On the other hand I know that what’s going on here is wrong. You’re the only real friend I’ve ever had. Your friendship is one of the only things that has kept me going. I can’t bear the thought of feeling the loneliness I felt before you came again.”

“Aren’t you worried about your unborn child?”

“Of course I am, but I’m willing to take that risk. I’m tired of always being told what to do. I’m young, and I have my whole life ahead of me. I don’t want my child to suffer like I have suffered. It also wasn’t even my choice to become pregnant. It feels like I’ve woken up from a dream. It was you who woke me. I now realize the truth,” Bridget whispered, with tears in her eyes.

“Well, if you’re coming with me, then help me get this window open. While I scrape the edges of the window, you try to force it open.”

Sahara again began scraping around the edge of the window, trying to make as little noise as possible. As Sahara scraped around the exterior of the window, Bridget tried to force the window upward. Sahara feared that at any moment Bartholomew was going to hear them. After Sahara had thoroughly removed the majority of the plaster from the cracks of the window, Bridget was able to force it open. As the window came open the cool morning air blew in, giving them a slight chill. Sahara put the screwdriver in one of the pockets of her dress, and readied herself for the climb down.

The second floor of the Temple was around eight feet from the ground. Being on the second floor would make the climb hard, but not impossible. Sahara was the first to begin the climb down. Standing with her back to the window, she slowly lifted her leg over the windowsill and placed her foot on top of the first log beneath the window. She then swung her other leg over the windowsill and placed her other foot beside the first one. After she had climbed about half way down to the ground, she then coaxed Bridget to follow her lead. Bridget struggled slightly, trying not to put too much pressure on her belly. When Sahara was within around two feet of the ground she jumped to the dirt below.

Bridget struggled much more than Sahara to descend the wall. Sahara watched, trying to encourage her. Sahara breathed a sigh of relief when Bridget finally placed her foot on terra firma. The early-morning was slightly overcast, helping protect them from sight.

“Now what?” Bridget asked.

“We have to get to the well. That’s where I buried the burlap sack with the cans of beans in it.”

The well could be seen from where they stood. The well stood beside the barn, which was about one hundred feet from where they were. They could hardly hear the sound of goats and sheep as they came closer to the well. The well was made from stones, kept together with some kind of putty. It was of a simple design with a hemp rope tied to a wooden bucket around a wench that could be lowered and raised by turning a crank.

They would need to hurry. The Morning Prayer service would begin in around an hour. When Bartholomew would come to wake them he would immediately see that they were gone. If they were caught trying to flee, the consequences would be dire. The last girl that had been caught trying to escape had been dealt with harshly. She had been placed in solitary confinement. After a week or more without food or water, she had been found dead one morning. Sahara was not anxious to suffer the same fate.

As they walked towards the well through the desert sand and rocks, Sahara began to question why Bridget had been so quick to have a change of heart. She began to question whether or not Bridget was being truthful with her. Perhaps it was all a part of some elaborate plan to betray her. Sahara wanted to trust her. She would rather travel with a companion then travel alone. Sahara pushed these fears aside, knowing herself to be prone to paranoia.