In Dutch Again

All at once, the rope around her wrists slackened; she'd broken enough threads to loosen it. Wiggling her hand around, she pulled one, then the other hand out of the rope. Now she could reach her gag. She wrenched the foul thing out, coughing. She pulled her blindfold off. Her eyes watered painfully when the light hit them. Small patches of late afternoon sun checkered the dirt from the vents on the west side of the building. Next she held perfectly still, listening to determine if anyone was coming. She wasn't going to waste her voice screaming until she heard Carrie or Stephen. Meantime, she'd work at her ropes. It took only a few minutes to slip an arm out by pulling with her hands. Soon she was free altogether and looking for a way out. There was no trap door, nor any escape hatch obvious from the crawlspace where she was trapped. She listened again, but still didn't hear anyone. Her best bet might be to knock the screen out of the air vents. Slight as she was, even she couldn't fit through one, but at least it would make it easier to be heard and maybe seen. All she needed was a tool. All around the dirt floor were discarded pieces of wood, most too small to do any good. Then she saw a longer piece, partly buried in the dirt. She crawled over to where it lay and tugged at it. It was stuck tight. Picking up a smaller pointed scrap, she began digging. Something was holding the larger piece fast. She starting digging with her hands to loosen it when something brightly colored showed against the dirt. It was a quilt. By the looks of it, an old Amish one. How the dickens did it get here, she wondered. She uncovered it further. Something seemed to be wrapped in it. She freed more of the quilt, unwrapping it at the same time. She lurched back. "Oh, my Gott, " Hannah said aloud. She gazed in horror at a partly decomposed human hand. "There is a body in here!"