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Chapter One
Reese
I press the tipsof my fingers firmly into my palms, feeling a searing pain tear through my arms. My teeth ache from the pressure of my grinding jaw; the hunger in my stomach is so fierce that I might be okay with tearing this man’s face off with my teeth. I close my eyes, seeing a darkness similar to when my eyes are open. There is no hiding from my fears anymore. The darknessismy fear. My only fear. And right now, it surrounds me, making me its prisoner. I press my knees into the cement and push my back up against the wall, sensing the icy rough graze of uneven texture scraping against my skin.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” the man says, taking one step at a time, closing in on the little space between us. I don’t believe him. All anyone has wanted to do for the past three years is hurt me in some way. “I only want to ask you some questions.”
What answers would I have? I know nothing other than darkness and isolation. And Sin. I know about Sin, who I have now determined to be a traitor. Where is he? I’m guessingheisn’t locked up.Asshole. “I don’t want to talk,” I tell the man.
Closer. So close, I can smell his breath—the scent of stale bread rotting on his tongue. “I’d rather do this the easy way, Reese.”
There is no space for me to move, plus this man is more than a foot taller and built with what looks like three hundred pounds of muscle. There is only one thing I can do at this point and it goes against everything I want to do right now.
I grit my teeth hard enough to feel the pain wrench through my jaw, hard enough to force the tears I have held in for so long. After repressing my emotions throughout the torment I have endured, the tears come easily once they start. Heaves in my chest accompany the waterworks and it all feels as real as I’m making it appear. “Please, help me,” I cry. I reach out for the man’s hand, finding a thick, leather glove instead. I grip it with all of my strength, pulling it toward me, but not in an aggressive way, in a way that portrays how much help I truly need. I fall to my knees, feeling an internal struggle. “I’m hungry and scared. Please, sir, help me.” My words croak and rasp against the dryness of my throat. The words are believable, the look in my eyes is sincere, but the bitterness in my heart is making me want to snarl like a dog.
The man looks over his shoulder and back at me. I can hear him swallowing hard, nervous. “Keep it down,” he grunts.
“Are you going to hurt me?” I whisper through a quiet cry.
He leans in closer, bringing his biohazard-masked face closer toward my ear. “No, but I need you to keep quiet or it won’t be me you have to worry about.”
“Who then?” Who do I need to worry about?
“Who do you think?” He’s speaking to me as if he knows what I know, and I don’t like it. Plus, I don’t know what I’m supposed to know. There is only one name that I could speak of right now, and it’s a name I don’t want confirmation on. “Well?”
Now I’m swallowing hard. “It’s not Sin,” I respond.
The man backs away, giving me space and air to breathe. “I’ll get you some food.”
“Wait!” I shout, a little too loudly.
He turns around, rushing me as if I were a player on a football field. “I told you to keep quiet.” The strong scent of rubber from his mask burns my nose as it presses against the side of my cheek.
“Sin,” I say again.
“You don’t get this, do you?” he grits.
I close my eyes, knowing I need to stop. It’s the only way. “I’m just hungry,” I mutter through the rough sensation of my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. I can hardly swallow my own spit and I’m not sure I understand how I’m surviving this incredible dehydration. I’ve clearly underestimated my body’s capabilities.
He backs away again, holding his dark, covered stare on my eyes. With the little light the opening of the cell allows in, I can see a touch of despair clouding his eyes.Maybe he doesn’t want to be here either.As he slips through the opening of the cell wall, he pulls the door closed. “Please don’t lock it. The darkness…it’s…please…I can’t deal with any more darkness.”
The second before the light disappears completely, the whites of his eyes become murky as they disappear behind his lids. “Just be quiet.”
The door remains open the one measly inch, allowing the slight beam of light to remain. Feeling the deep ache behind my knees with each step, I slowly make my way toward the opening, careful not to make any noise. I reach out for the edge of the wall in the doorframe, bringing myself closer to the opening. A dimly lit, gray hallway appears endless on both sides. The lights down the center create an aura in the middle, leaving darkness on each side. Easier for concealing my dirt-covered body at least. I shimmy out of the opening and struggle between the decision of left or right. Left or right…a choice that may mean the difference between life and death.
I suck in a heavy breath and flatten myself against the outer wall, making the decision to head right. I want to run, but I know it would create noise. My heart is booming against my chest so hard I wonder if I’m the only one who can hear the beating.
Step after step, the hallway only continues to unravel into a longer hallway. With no noise in any direction, I wonder if that man was truly getting me food or if this is a setup. Maybe he’s a rat, working against the rest of them.
The closer I get to nowhere, the scent of fresh bread fills my nose, telling me I’m nearing a kitchen—where the man likely went to fetch me food, if that is what he is doing. I want the food. I want to break into that kitchen and sicken myself with whatever I can get my hands on. But it could be a trap. This could all be a trap.
I pivot on my heels, forcing myself into the opposite direction, away from the food I so desperately need. This makes no sense. When I was brought to the cell, the halls were white and there were doors. This isn’t the same place.
I speed up my steps, remaining balanced on my toes to lessen the echo of each step, looking for the cell I came from, but I don’t know where it is. I’ve walked long enough that I should have passed by it by now, except it’s gone. I think it’s gone, but how can that be? I run my hand along the wall, feeling for cracks, inconspicuous openings, anything uneven. With my vision hindered by exhaustion, I’m having trouble seeing more than a few feet in front of me, but I feel an end. Maybe it’s due to the echo becoming shallower with each stride.
The scent, though, it’s back.Fresh bread. I turn around, finding nothing more than the barren hall I’ve been walking down. A straight hall—not one that loops into an endless, teasing circle. That man should have come back by now; he would have found me in this hallway if he wanted to.
