Tuesday
Dawn
When Ashley woke up, she could tell right away that something was different. The inside of the silo was no longer pitch-black. Rather, faint rays of sunlight squeezed in at the edges of the hatch at the top. It was enough to allow her to make out things without using the flashlight.
She bolted upright. After taking a moment to adjust, she noticed something else.
A beam of daylight was also squirting through a hole in the wall of the silo. The hole was the size of a quarter, up the wall a bit above her head. When she jumped up, she could almost get an eye to it but not quite.
She needed a stepstool. Rifling through the bin of food, she found some of the soup cans. She stacked them on the floor on either side of the hole and then laid the loose board across them, creating a plank. Gingerly climbing up and resting her hands on the inner wall of the silo, she was able to get an eye to the hole and look out. She saw an old dilapidated barn, a small farmhouse, and rutted dirt roads running through the fields that were long since abandoned and now choked with weeds. Rusty hulks of abandoned cars and distressed farm machinery littered the grounds.
Looking down, she got a sense of how high she was. The silo was easily forty feet tall.
She didn't like heights and never had. She didn't even like the high diving board at the pool.
There were no signs of life outside-no people, no cars, no dogs, nothing. Her abductor was nowhere to be found.
Taking another look down the chute, she spied a fair amount of light down below, almost as if it were coming through a door or window at the base of the silo. She hung the board straight down and jammed the end against the bones until they dropped through. With the chute now open, she could see to the bottom. It looked like a dirt floor below with a small pile of old grain. Based on how deep the bones had settled into the grain, she guessed it was two to three inches thick.
Could I drop down?
Taking another look down, she pictured the fall. It was a long way. She doubted the thin layer of grain would offer much of a cushion. And the chute-was it big enough for her to get through? It would be close. What would be the best position for her body? With her arms straight down at her sides or pointed up above her head? She pictured getting stuck with arms down and then with her arms up. What would be her preferred position if she was wedged in that hole for the rest of her life? She shook the thought from her mind.
Not constructive.
Right now, with only one board removed, she couldn't drop down even if she wanted to. She'd have to remove another board. She debated her options.
Screw it. I'm doing this.
She could at least get another board out and have the option available.
Ashley was more efficient this time, getting the board removed in two hours. Then she had an idea. Using the pull-off top from a can of soup, she cut the mattress apart and then wedged the foam padding and the outer cotton pieces down through the chute to the ground below. They all landed in the same general area, creating an additional six to eight inches of support. If she landed right on top of the pile, she might have as much as ten inches of cushion. It wasn't much from that height but it was better than before. Plus, the padding covered most of the bones, so at least the chances of one of them jamming into her on impact were reduced. It was the little things.
She looked at the bin of food, wondering if she should toss some of it down to take with her. It was an intriguing option. But she worried that doing so might mess up the padding or that something hard might get stuck in it. No point in doing all this hard work just to land on a soup can and break her back.
Then a thought occurred to her that made her so proud she actually smiled for the first time since this nightmare started. She pulled off her skirt and top and tossed them down the chute as well. Now wearing only her bra and panties, she grabbed the peanut butter from the bin.
She might be allergic to the stuff but maybe it could come in handy in another way. She opened it and began slathering the goop all over her body, paying extra attention to her outer thighs, butt, hips, stomach, and rib cage. When she dropped with her arms over her head, maybe being coated in the slick substance would help her get through the chute.
When she was done, Ashley allowed herself a moment to focus quietly. She could feel herself starting to get herself psyched for the drop, like she would before a big surfing competition. Almost involuntarily, her breathing slowed. Everything seemed sharper. It was time.
She stepped to the edge and looked down.
Although she was in the right position, she didn't like the idea of dropping into the chute from a standing position. There'd be less of a fall if she got in the hole, hung from one of the remaining boards and then let go. She positioned the flashlight to point into the chute so she'd have a good visual when she dropped. Then she climbed over the edge of the flooring and hung down, dangling above the chute.
Okay, do it! Goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, Daddy! I love you both. I'm sorry about everything.
I don't want to die.
Her breathing got rapid; in and out, in and out.
She could feel herself freaking out.
No! This is crazy!
She tried frantically to get back up but couldn't. The strength in her arms just wasn't there anymore.
She was stuck with no choice but to drop.
At that realization, her breath slowed again. The inevitability gave her an unexpected feeling of calmness. She closed her eyes for a long second and opened them again, ready to focus on her task. She swayed back and forth slightly so that she could drop directly over the chute opening at the ideal time.
When the moment was right, Ashley Penn released her grip and dropped into a freefall.
