‘I knew I had to get free, so when he left I tried to get out of the cuffs.’ Gabriel presented his blistered palms and wrists, red raw circles around them, the skin scuffed, the fine hair torn from the root. ‘I pulled on them, tried to rip them off the wall. Kept yelling out for help. Not once did he come in and tell me to shut up. He wasn’t worried about anyone hearing me. That’s when I knew I was in the middle of nowhere. I kept pulling and eventually managed to break one of the locks but one hand was still attached to the wall. I reached for the bench with my free hand to try and get one of the tools. I nearly put my shoulder out of joint, but managed to get my hands on the hatchet. I tried to chop at the remaining cuff without chopping through my own wrist. I was terrified that he’d come in and catch me. I just wanted a chance to get free. A chance to live. I went quiet, but worried that the fact that I had shut up would attract his attention, so I yelled out to cover the sound of the hatchet hitting the metal and ringing out like a fucking church bell.’

He looked up.

Chandler nodded for him to go on, intrigued by the man’s vivid recollection, how the words flowed from his mouth like water from a burst dam.

‘Somehow I managed to bend the metal, like a superhuman kind-of-thing and got my other hand free. The key for the leg irons was hanging from a nail so in a few seconds I was out. I felt more scared than I had when I was chained up. I remember trying the shed doors but they were padlocked. The only other exit led next door. The one he’d come from. So I opened it. There was a single room filled with supplies.’

Gabriel exhaled deeply. As if he had been holding his breath.

‘And Heath?’ asked Chandler.

‘Sat at a desk covered in paper and maps. A big cross on the wall. I tiptoed to the front door but as I opened it, the hinges squeaked. He turned. We stared at each other as if frozen. Then the chase started. I made it outside but it was like I was in the middle of a hollow. Just trees and earth all around. I had no idea what direction to head in so I went right.’

‘Why right?’

‘I dunno . . . I’m right-handed I guess . . . I can’t tell you why. Each way looked the same. My legs were stiff from being locked in the manacles but I knew I had to move fast, not knowing if he had a gun or not.’