Three

Her heart pounded fiercely under her ribs.  She clutched the rope in desperation knowing that the black maw waited below to consume her again.

"Carmen!" James voice rang out above in panic.

"Still here!" she shouted.  "The harness broke."  She tried to remain calm.

"What!?  You're OK?" he sounded incredulous and hopeful.



"No biggie, I just caught the rope."  She tried to sound nonchalant about what could only have been providence; grasping the slithering rope in the dark with her last ounce of strength, feeling it burn her hands as it saved her.

"You are lucky number three.”  His voice was reassuring.  She knew they had rescued others before.  They would save her too. "Just keep talking." he prompted.

"About what?"

"About being lucky, being lucky number three."

"You said that already.  You could say I'm your hat trick."  She smiled, proud to remember the term.

"You betcha. Now hold on tight, I’m pulling."

The rope moved.  Her arms ached, but she held on, desperate with the hope of escaping the terror.  The days of horror would be behind her. "Oooh, I'm your triple play."

"Nice!  You're our triple crown!", he played along.

"Um. ..” she searched her memory.

"I've got you."  James interrupted.  Relief filled her as he lifted her over the edge.  She didn't let go of the rope, even when he laid her on the stone floor and wrapped her in a blanket.
"Turkey!"  She shouted.

"What!? Me?  A turkey?" There was a smile in his voice.

"No silly, I'm your turkey.  In bowling, three strikes in a row. I win!"  She exclaimed, tears of relief in her eyes.

"Yes, Carmen, you are my turkey and you win."  He smiled, mussed her hair, then gently pried the rope from her bloodied fingers.  "By tomorrow, I’ll make it a perfect game."

Carmen looked at the other girls sleeping nearby; the horrors of the pit behind them.  James turned to fish more children from the abyss.

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Trifecta Entry: Week Ninety Two

Word Count: 327

@NomDeBen