A Grave Proposition

Turning his head to look at Cam, “Listen,” Oliver started, “we are completely exposed out in the hall. I’ll go across and see if I can dislodge the towel enough for us to get under the door and then I’ll signal you. Listen, I know you’ve been through a lot in the last few days but you are going to need to run as fast as you possibly can because all it takes is just one of those behemoths to spot you and we will both be pooched,” he explained.

Cam nodded slowly, wearily, “Okay.”

Grinning, “It’s good to see you,” Oliver said, clapping Cam on the shoulder.

Cam smiled back, “You too.”

“By the way, you were right about your sister. That girl is a big ole bitch,” Oliver acknowledged.

Despite the utter fatigue, Cam laughed softly, “You know I don’t want to say it but I kind of have to, told you so,” he joked back.

Shaking his head, “I should of listened,” Oliver replied. Taking one more look out into the hall, ears attuned for any sound, he pulled him through and scampered rabbit-like across the corridor, crossing the open ground quickly. Grabbing the exposed corner of the towel, he gave it a firm yank, causing it to unfold slightly and come away enough to permit access. Peeking under the door into the quiet darkness beyond, he looked back to Brooklynn’s door, pausing to listen before signaling for Cam to make the dash.

Crawling out from under the door, Cam pulled himself to standing, legs nearly buckling as he started to run.

Clenching his teeth, Oliver willed Cam to hurry, the other boy’s pace agonizingly slow. “C’mon Cam,” he encouraged, motioning with his arm.

Trying to move faster than his feet would permit, Cam stumbled and fell to the floor, picking himself up and staggering back into the semblance of a run. He could see Oliver ahead and did not want to let him down. Arriving at the door, he doubled over, hands on his sides panting.

“You can catch your breath inside,” Oliver stated, putting a hand on Cam and guiding him to go under the door first. Once Cam was through, he followed, dragging the corner of the towel in behind him.

“It’s dark in here,” Cam whispered.

“Give your eyes a moment,” Oliver replied, bracing his feet against the jamb and pulling hard on the towel.

“Do you know which girl’s room this is?” Cam inquired, still breathless

“Haven’t the foggiest, but knowing my luck of late it probably belongs to Sersei,” Oliver replied dryly.

In the dark, Cam shuddered, dreading the indignities she would subject him to before casually returning him to Brooklynn. “I really hope not,” he mumbled.

“Come on, we need to find a place to get gone fast. There’s no telling when whichever girl might be returning,” prompted Oliver.

Squinting in the feeble light, “Where?” Cam asked.

Eyes darting around the shadowy interior, he spied a length of cord hanging down from a set of blinds covering the upper three quarters of the room’s window. Hanging down from the end of the blinds was a cord, knotted near the two plastic ends to keep it up off the floor. Beneath the blinds on the windowsill sat four small plants in what appeared to be terracotta planters. Although tied up, the end of the cord had a loop in it, keeping it, to his perspective thrice his height above the floor. If he and Cam could get the hair rope through that loop, they could tie it and pull themselves up to the cord and then they could use it to get onto the windowsill where the planters were. Chuckling, “There, the window, I think I have an idea,” he said.

Cam looked and shook his head, “I don’t, what?”

“Let’s go,” Oliver urged, tugging on Cam’s arm before jogging across the room to beneath the window. Tying the end of the makeshift rope in a heavier knot, he swung it around several times to generate momentum before launching it at the dangling cord. Missed. Trying again, he got it on the second try.

“Holy cow,” murmured Cam, impressed.

“Just like roping a calf,” Oliver chuckled, taking the heavy end and tying the rope’s smaller end around his waist.

“What are you doing?”

Oliver grinned and began to pull himself up the hair until he arrived at the cord. Lowering the loose end back down to the floor, “Can you pull yourself up?” he asked, bracing himself to support Cam’s weight.

Cam nodded. Taking the rope in his hands, he climbed upward, getting onto the cord.

Cam secured in the loop, Oliver shinnied up the cord, taking himself above the sill before swaying back and forth on the cord and letting go, dropping safely on the sill below before beckoning Cam to follow.

“What’s your plan?” Cam wheezed.

“I want to see if we can get inside one of these,” Oliver replied.

“Inside?”

“Up top, maybe break up some of the soil and burrow in just beneath the surface. I doubt any of them would look that closely,” Oliver replied.

“In the dirt?”

“In the dirt. The plants don’t look like they’re wilting, which means somebody is watering them. Could be a viable source of drinking water for us,” Oliver explained, nodding.

“So we’re taking a dirt nap?” Cam asked with a grin, the expression visible in the weak light peeking in through the window.

Oliver chuckled, feeling relieved to see elements of the old Cam emerging through the trauma of the last week. “That’s good way to put it.”

“You’re a lot cleverer than you look,” Cam asserted.

Oliver smiled back, “I guess that’s better than looking more clever than you are,” he replied.

“True enough,” Cam conceded.

“You think you can give me a boost up?” Oliver asked.

Leaning his back to the planter, Cam created a stirrup with his hands, “Okay,” he stated, nodding affirmatively.

Taking a couple quick steps, Oliver used Cam and propelled himself up, catching the edge of the planter and pulling himself up. This would do nicely. The soil was not too condensed and there was enough room for both of them in one planter. Returning to the edge of the planter, “Toss me up the knife and then the rope, we’ve got some work to do,” he said.