Ken set the gun on the ground and stepped forward. Then, apparently deciding he shouldn't leave the gun so close, he kicked it to the other side of the basement.

"Get down from there," said Ken. "Don't make this any worse than it needs to be."

Charlene was pretty sure she'd already maxed out how bad her punishment would be if and when he finally got her down from the cage. She simply braced herself, ready to kick the shit out of him for as long as she could.

"Where do you think you're gonna go?" he asked.

Vivian, no longer wailing, was now whispering to her son. Charlene was glad she couldn't hear the words.

"I asked you a question," said Ken.

Charlene continued to ignore his question, which she'd assumed was hypothetical. She didn't think she was going anywhere. Even if she had the athletic prowess to leap from cage to cage, it wouldn't do her any good.

Ken moved forward.

Gertie kicked at him. It was a terrible kick, and did little to dissuade him.

"I'll break your goddamn legs," Ken told her.

Gertie kicked at him again, with even less energy.

Charlene had not been dangling from a steel cage all night, so her kick was a lot more vicious. She got him in the chest. But he grabbed her leg and pulled. If it had been the leg that got shot, she suspected that the pain would be so intense that she would have released her grip on the cage and let him do whatever he wanted with her, but instead she yanked her leg free and kicked him in the face.

She didn't hear a satisfying crack and he didn't fall to the floor.

He grabbed her injured leg.

The pain was every bit as intense as she'd feared. Yet she didn't let go of the cage. She kicked him with her other leg and her injured leg popped out of his hands.

She glanced down at him. Ken looked absolutely batshit insane with rage.

He let out a furious bellow that was even louder and more unhinged than Vivian's wailing.

Charlene climbed as high as she could. There wasn't room for her to perch on top of the cage, but she was right up against the ceiling.

Ken picked up the knife that had been used to kill his son. "You can't get away from me!" he screamed.

He grabbed the bars and pulled himself up. The cage suddenly tilted toward him.

And then the cage, which probably had not been installed with the intention of supporting the weight of three people, came free of the ceiling.

For a heartbeat, it seemed to float in midair. It felt like that moment right before a rollercoaster goes down the first terrifying hill.

Then the cage crashed down onto the floor.

It landed on its side, crushing Ken beneath it.