She lurched from her position propped up against the wall and wondered for a moment if she was still dreaming.
Edda’s screams from a few feet away told her she wasn’t.
She’d stayed awake long after the rebel leader retired behind his curtain, unable to sleep for fear he might vent his anger on Father Tom.
She’d also contemplated what she would do after nature ran its course. She’d bought her fellow hostages three days, four at the most. What would happen after that? Could she willingly let the loathsome man touch her for the sake of keeping one or all of them alive? And what guarantee did she have that he wouldn’t harm Father Tom?
The idea that perhaps they could overpower two of the soldiers, steal their weapons and make a run for it, she immediately discarded as foolish and dangerous. She’d slumped, dejected, against the wall of the cave. That’s when she must’ve fallen asleep.
Dizzy and momentarily blinded by the flashes, she jumped as Edda screamed again. What was happening? Had the rebel leader decided they weren’t worth keeping and blasted the cave, burying them alive? Curiously though, the walls of the cave remained intact. She blinked a few times to dispel the blindness. Nothing happened.
A staccato burst of muffled gunfire sounded close by. But the gunfire was inside the cave, not outside. Which meant the rebels were still inside. Something brushed against her and she bit back a scream.
"It’s all right lass, it’s me," Father Tom whispered close beside her. "I told ye we’d be rescued today."
Rescued! Why hadn’t she thought of that? Her spirits soared, then plummeted.