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“I don’t know. But it’s bad. We need to get loose.”
“How tight are your wrists tied?”
“Tight,” Sam said. “But I already found a spot on the wall that’s got a jagged edge. Just a matter of time until I saw through the cord. We’re lucky they used rope.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Shift over in front of me so he can’t see what I’m doing.” Sam leaned over to Lazlo. “Did you hear all that?”
“Barely. I’ll move to your left so you’re covered if they come back.”
The men didn’t return, though, and after a long hour Sam eyed the guard, who was reading in his corner, and whispered to Remi, “I’m free. Let me get my ankles untied and then I’ll deal with our friend there.”
“You want to get me loose first?”
“They could be back any second. I’ll take him down, then cut you two free. It’ll be faster.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“Improvise.” Sam inched farther back from Remi. “Move away from me so I have some room. You too, Lazlo. But don’t be obvious.”
When they’d done as he asked, Sam called out to the guard, “I have to use the bathroom.”
The man looked over at him and laughed. He went back to what he was doing and Sam called out again. “Please.”
The guard ignored him.
Sam decided to try something different. “You’ll hang for this. They’ll come for us and you’ll dance at the end of a rope.”
“Shut up,” the guard snarled.
Sam shook his head and muttered audibly, “Idiot. Stupid piece of garbage.”
“Not stupid. You the one tied up.”
“Big talk, moron. What rathole did they find you living in?” Sam glared at the man. “I can buy and sell you a thousand times over, lowlife. You’re an insect.”
The man rose, his face twisted with anger, and stormed toward Sam. “I say shut up!”
Sam spat at the man’s feet and gave him a dismissive look. “You can barely pronounce it, you dolt.” Sam glanced at Lazlo. “No wonder this island’s stuck in the Stone Age.”
The man took another step toward him and Sam made his move, a lightning-quick sweep kick that knocked the guard’s legs out from under him and sent him pitching backward. Before the guard hit the hard stone floor, Sam leapt up and threw himself on the man, cracking ribs with his elbow and slamming the side of his fist into the islander’s face. The guard made a wet, gurgling sound as his head cracked against the floor. His eyes rolled back into his head until all Sam could see were the whites.
Sam stood and, after a glance at the unconscious guard, rushed to Remi and Lazlo. With the machete, he quickly severed their bonds.
Remi whispered to him as he finished Lazlo’s leg bindings. “How are we going to get out of here?”
“We can try backtracking through the cave, but they’re probably in there somewhere.” He peered toward where another passage was just visible in the gloom. “How about door number two?”
Remi moved behind Sam and quickly inspected his head. “It’s scabbed over.”
“One less thing to worry about.” Sam hefted the machete, considering the working blade’s sharpened, nicked edge, and then his eyes roamed over the room. His gaze stopped at one of the crates, where a collection of tools lay, along with a coil of rope. Remi glanced at the potential weapons and moved to them, selecting the most lethal, before heading back to Lazlo, rope also in hand.
“Here’s a hatchet. Grab a light and let’s get out of here.”
“What about that bloke?” Lazlo asked, tilting his head at the downed guard.
“I’ll make short work of him,” Sam said. He scrounged among their discarded bindings and found a length of cord that looked promising. A minute later, he’d bound the man’s wrists and ankles and stuffed a rag in his mouth. “That should keep him out of trouble for a while.”