The Long Weekend by Savita Kalhan Page A

wouldn't work. The man would just swat it away with one hand. Maybe he could hide it behind his back until the man was close, then he could swing it out from behind him and crack it across the man's head.
    Get real, you stupid idiot, he told himself harshly. This wasn't an action movie where the kids all had stunt doubles, and never actually lifted a finger, never mind wield real weapons. This was real life, and the worst nightmare of Sam's life.

7
    The man must have taken a breather because the slam, slam stopped for a while. Sam started thinking again, and the tears dried up. It was much easier to think without that racket going on. Okay, no weapon apart from the bedside table. Then he remembered his rucksack. Maybe there was something in there he could use. But where was it? He looked round the room, trying to think back to when he'd had it last. He had taken it out of the car with him and then they had gone straight to the games room. So that's where it must be, exactly where it was of no use to anyone.
    There was probably nothing much in there anyway, Sam thought. A pocket dictionary would have been useless. There was his school homework, and considering the circumstances Sam thought his mum would probably write him a note explaining why he hadn't been able to do it. It would go something like, 'My son, Samuel Parker, could not do his homework because he and his new friend, Lloyd, were kidnapped on Friday by a demented madman, and locked up in a room.'
    And that was pretty much all there was in his rucksack, oh, apart from his pencil case – his pencil case which contained a compass with a very shiny, sharp point. Now that would have come in very handy. But it was way down the corridor, past his blockaded door and the madman, and there was no way Sam was going out that way.
    The slamming began again in earnest, setting Sam's heart pounding. He couldn't bear it any longer. He backed up right into the bathroom and closed the door. It muffled the sound a bit, but not enough. Then he noticed the key in the lock, and wondered why he hadn't seen it earlier. He locked the door. One more obstacle for the man to get through before he got to him.
    Sam sat down on the edge of the bath; his legs had gone all wobblyish again and his hands were shaking. What he needed was a mobile phone. He wished he'd asked his parents for one for his last birthday, although he knew he probably wouldn't have got one then. Tab had only got hers last year and she was three years older than him. It was only for emergencies, but she was always texting her friends on it and there was never an emergency in sight. Lots more kids his age had them now and not all of them got mugged. He'd said that to his dad just a few days ago, but it hadn't cut much ice with him. He thought it might now though.
    He looked around the bathroom just to make sure he hadn't missed anything like a razor blade or something else that could be used as a weapon. There was a loo brush, but Sam didn't think that was going to hold the man at bay for long. There were a couple of manky old bathrobes hanging behind the door, which were completely useless. And then he saw something better than a weapon. Something he must have been blind not to have noticed.
    An escape route. A window.
    It was small, above the sink, but Sam knew he could wriggle through it. He was only a skinny kid, wasn't he? No problem. He was getting out, and he smiled despite the fact that as he thought of escape and getting home, he realised that he was one floor up, and that Lloyd was still trapped somewhere in the house.
    Sam clambered onto the edge of the sink, placing his feet on either side of the taps to balance himself, and lifted the handle and pushed. It must have been stuck because it didn't open straight away. There were cobwebs, which Sam didn't mind because he liked spiders, and a thick layer of dust on the panes, which meant it hadn't been used in a long time. He had to whack it open and that was okay