Fifty-Eight

The red digital display was active once again.

59, 58, 57 . . .

‘I pressed the right button . . . that was the fucking deal,’ Hunter yelled at the top of his voice. He ran back to the cage and double-checked the wooden cross. He had no way of freeing Garcia from it. The nails that pierced his hands were deeply embedded in the wood. Hunter noticed that the main body of the cross was slotted into a separate wooden foundation.

42, 41, 40 . . .

His only hope was to lift it off its base and drag it out of the room in time.

33, 32, 31 . . .

He had no more time to think. He quickly placed his right shoulder under Garcia and the cross’s left arm. From his weight-training experience he knew he had to use his legs and not his arms and back to lift it up. He steadied himself on his feet; bent his knees and in one quick push used all his power to shove his shoulder against the wooden cross. It surprised him how easily it all came apart.

The cage door stayed open but Hunter wouldn’t be able to get the cross through it without tilting it. He twisted his body, rotating his waist to the left as far as he could go. Garcia emitted a muffled grunt of pain, but Hunter’s acrobatics did the trick. They were out of the cage. Now he had to make it to the door.

20, 19, 18 . . .

His feet were in agony and he was starting to feel the double weight on his back. ‘A few more steps,’ he whispered to himself, but suddenly his left knee buckled under the weight and he came crashing down, slamming it against the concrete floor. A searing pain shot up his leg, making him dizzy for a couple of seconds – precious seconds. Somehow he still managed the cross on his back.

Hunter wasn’t sure how much longer he had. He was scared to turn around and check the clock, but he knew he needed to get back on his feet. He firmed his right foot on the ground and with a scream pushed himself back up.

9, 8, 7 . . .

He finally made it to the door. He needed to use the twisting trick once again, but this time he couldn’t rely on his left knee to support the weight. Using his right leg as his main balance point he repeated the same movement of seconds ago. He screamed out in pain, praying he could hold on for just a few more steps. He tasted sick in his mouth as his body felt faint and struggled to cope with the unbearable pain. Hunter felt his grip weakening – he was losing the cross.

One more step.

He used his last ounce of strength to push himself and the cross through the doorframe.

No more time.

He let the heavy iron door slam behind him hoping it’d be strong enough to withhold the blast. Hunter let go of the cross and fell over his partner using his own body as a human blanket. He closed his eyes and waited for the explosion.