Read Online The Long Weekend by Savita Kalhan - Free Book Online

door.
    The man was still talking, but the nicey-nice tone had gone and been replaced with extreme annoyance verging on anger.
    'Don't be stupid and open the door now!'
    Sam had no intention of being stupid enough for that.
    'No one's going to hurt you.' The kick that whacked the door told Sam that that was a complete lie.
    The threats would start next, Sam thought, and as if the man had heard him his next words proved Sam right.
    'If I have to break the door down, it'll be worse for you. There's no way out that way, you know.'
    And that's where you're wrong, Sam whispered softly.
    There was a way out, and Sam was going to take it. All he needed was a rope or something. It didn't have to reach all the way to the ground, just long enough for him to dangle off and then the drop wouldn't be so bad. He noticed the bathrobes had fallen off the peg and were lying in a heap on the floor. They still had their cord threaded through the loops.
    Unbelievable. Finally something had gone his way.
    Sam was off the window ledge in seconds. He pulled the cords out from their loops and ran his fingers down their length. They looked strong enough to bear his weight, but could have done with being several feet longer, even when they were tied together. They were better than nothing; better than the alternative. He knotted them together securely with a triple knot, and then tied one end of it to a tap, his fingers fumbling with the knot. This bit had to be done right otherwise he didn't stand a chance. He started again and made a better job of it. No way was it going to come off that tap, ever. Sam threw the other end of the window and climbed back up onto the ledge. He peered down and saw it swaying in the light breeze. It could have done with being a bit thicker too, Sam thought. But it was still better than nothing.
    Okay this was the tricky part. He had to get his legs out of the window first and try and wrap them round the cord. He manoeuvred his body round so that he was facing into the bathroom, and swung his legs out one by one, still keeping a tight grip on the window frame. Now he was dangling in open air, half in and half out of the window, and the problem was he couldn't see the dangling cord now because his legs were in the way. He swung his legs around a bit, hoping one of them would catch the cord, but he couldn't tell whether he had managed it. Okay, forget that part, he told himself. He would have to climb down, hand over hand instead. He had to let go with his right hand and take hold of the cord, but his fingers were reluctant to loosen their grip on the sturdy window frame. The cord wasn't too far to reach – it was right next to his hand, but he still couldn't let go of the frame.
    Why did the cord look so flimsy all of a sudden, and what if he hadn't tied the knot properly? What if it gave way?
    The bathroom door shuddered under the impact of a violent blow. The man had finally lost patience. It wouldn't take him long to get through the bathroom door now because it wasn't as solid as the bedroom door had been. Sam reached for the cord. If it gave way he would have to remember to roll as soon as he hit the ground. That's what skydivers and parachutists did, and, apparently, kids who jumped out of bathroom windows. Whatever happened he would have to leg it into the trees as fast as he could, because it wouldn't take the man long to get downstairs and out of the house after him.
    Another heavy blow at the door jolted any thoughts of what he had to do when he landed right out of his head. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
    And then he jumped.

8
    He swung out off the window ledge, his hands sliding down the cord, falling, slipping almost before he could get a good strong grip on it with his legs swinging free in the air. This was how it felt when he was diving into a pool, his legs cycling the air and his hands above his head in total abandon, laughing, heading for the big splash when he would hit the water, his friends