Dangerous Journey by Joanne Pence

skin. She tried not to think about how much they hurt.
    She stood slowly, her body stiff and creaking from sitting on the cold cement ground. Her hands had already begun to swell and throb. She wasn’t hungry anymore, but she was thirsty; her mouth felt like sand paper. She tried to lick her dry lips, but that provided no relief.
    Yeng had done this. How could Alan have sent her here? He couldn’t have known what kind of a man Yeng was. But Darius knew, so why didn’t Alan?
    “Darius,” she whispered. “Darius, find me. Please.”
    She turned onto her side and curled up, miserable, but knowing that lying there and doing nothing was foolish. She walked around to loosen up, her muscles complaining with every step. Time to start on the second hinge. She picked up the chisel and hammer, but her hands ached so badly that when she tried to clasp the tools her eyes teared from the pain. She removed her half-slip and, using the file like a knife, tore it into strips. She wrapped those around her hands so she could hold the tools, then began to work again.
    This pin was as stubborn as the first, and her progress was even slower, because of her awkward angle. She was beyond caring how she felt, but worked on and on, unwilling to give up and await her destiny without a fight.
    “C.J.?” A slight tap on the door and the soft sound of a familiar voice caused her to freeze. Was it real, or a hallucination?
    The whispered question came again. “C.J.?”
    “Yes! Yes! Darius, I’m here.” She threw herself against the door.
    “Okay.” She heard the rattle of a key, and in a minute the door was open and she was in his arms.
    She held him tightly, burying her face against his neck. “I knew you’d come. I knew it.”
    He rubbed his cheek against her hair. “It’s good to see you, kid,” he said, his voice a little husky. “We have to get out of here. Be very quiet.”
    She stepped back from him and nodded.
    He reached for her hand, then saw her makeshift bandages. With eyes full of concern as he looked at her, he asked, “What’s happened?”
    “Look,” she told him, nodding in the direction of the hinges.
    He said nothing for a moment, then looked at her with admiration. “Seems you didn’t need me after all.”
    “I certainly did!” she said.
    He led her to a staircase. They needed to get out of the basement, to go up to the ground floor. Once there, the area appeared to be clear. He had managed to get in through a small window in the back porch, but leaving that way would have involved a jump that he doubted C.J. could handle. He was going to try to get her out the front door. They headed down the hallway walking as quietly as they could.
    At the sound of a footstep, Darius whisked C.J. into the dining room, hoping whoever was near would pass them by. The room was unlit, but the light from the hall and kitchen were bright enough that everything was visible. He hurried to the window to see if it offered any escape. They were about eight or nine feet up from the sidewalk. He could hold her until she was close enough to drop the rest of the way without breaking or spraining anything.
    He pushed open the window when two men rushed him. “Run, C.J.!” he ordered, then stepped back to meet them.
    All she saw was a mad tangle of arms and legs as the two men jumped Darius. She couldn’t just leave him there.
    She spotted a large Chinese gong at the entrance to the dining room, its wooden mallet on a stand beside it. She edged along the wall, keeping out of the men’s reach, then picked up the mallet. It was surprisingly heavy. She lifted it high in the air as she stepped back into a shadowy corner.
    The three men kicked and punched at each other, and she watched them, awaiting her chance. Then, as Darius fought one man, the second one stood straight, reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. With a flick, an enormous blade appeared.
    Without hesitation, C.J. stepped behind him and swung the mallet down toward his