“Let’s go hunting.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CELESTE
“When the enemy has made a plan of attack against us, we must anticipate him by delivering our own attack first.” - Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Opening my eyes, a plate of cheese, bread, and cup of water sits in front of me. My head is pounding, probably from the severe dehydration and malnourishment. We’ve been given very little while here but I make sure anything we are given, I take to keep my body going as much as I can. I shift to move to an upright position but I’m met with sheer pain, reminding me of the marks that were given to me.
Forcing myself to sit up, I grit my teeth to hold back a scream. This is going to leave serious marks, and a reminder every time I look in the mirror. Emotions start to surface but I shove it back down as this isn’t the time to let my weakness come to the front. My body trembles at each movement, each shock of pain that comes along with it. I would rather have been shot than sliced up like freaking meat.
“Fuck,”I grumble to myself.
Reaching for the water, I grab it and down the contents and move along to the bread. God, this tastes like shit. I then notice that I have a new dress on. He must have changed me when I was out cold.
“Take it easy! This is a dumb question, but how are you feeling?” Monroe is so soft and full of concern.
I take a moment to respond as I chew this stale as hell bread, wishing I didn’t drink all the water so I could wash it down.
“Like I’ve been cut up in pieces and smashed back together. Besides dropping the food off, has he come back? Has he done anything?” Taking another bite, I gag on it this time but I force myself to chew it up and swallow.
The first thing I’ll do when I get home is have a massive feast with savory flavors and eat until I explode. Oh, and a Xanax and a bath sounds good, too. I absolutely reek and my hair is so tangled, it would be a miracle to run a brush through it.
“Something happened out there. He seemed to be in a hurry when he dropped off the food and hasn’t been back in a long time. Do you think we’ve been found?” Samantha's small, soft voice chimes in.
She rarely speaks and hearing her voice makes my heart full knowing she’s still here and not totally disconnected. I would if I had to take the torture alone for so long, kept away from my daughter, and clean up wounds of others who are enduring the same treatment. Her hands were so gentle when she did, I’ll forever be grateful to her, even if he ordered her to do it. She would have anyway without being told.
“I have no idea, but we need to take the opportunity to find something to help get us out of these cuffs.”
“I agree. It’s only a matter of time before he makes his move. He’s had Samantha longer than the other victims andhaving three of us will start to be too much.” Monroe brings up a good point.
The clock is ticking and not in our favor. I’ll be damned if any one of us is taken from this world.
“Celeste?” Samantha's quiet voice was almost hard to hear.
“Yes?”
“Do you think that if I were to take my last breath before we get out of here, Gabby will remember me?” Those words are so full of emotion and worry.
I take a moment to process what she’s asking. She truly believes she’s going to die down here. That she’s going to meet her creator before she can have her last moments with her daughter. My heart squeezes with so much hurt, for her, for her daughter. She shouldn’t be thinking this way.
“Sam, you’re an amazing mother. She’s waiting eagerly for you to return to her. You’re her world. Don’t you dare think that way.” My voice is a little more aggressive than I meant but I can’t help being angry with her.
I shouldn’t be angry with her but I am. She can’t give up and that question tells me she’s on the verge of doing so.
“If I don't make it out of here, will you please adopt her? Protect her from all the evil in the world.” Her next question causes my whole body to still.
“No, because you’re getting out of here. I promise you.”
“I need you to promise me. Don’t let her be put in the system. IF I don’t make it, I need to know you will take care of her,” she pleads.
I can hear the quiver and heartbreak in her voice. I can’t deny her this request. If this will help her mind be at peace, I’ll do it. But I’ll be damned if she dies in this shit hole.
“I promise you that I’ll protect her with my life. Now do me a favor and don’t give up on me, okay? We’ll get out of here,” I concede to her.
Time seems to go by in slow motion. He still hasn’t come down and there has been no sound of activity since I woke up. Something has to be stirring the pot because there’s no way in hell his little voices in that little head of his would leave us alone for this long.
I’ve been scouring the room over and over again looking for something to help me get out of these torturous metal cuffs. I try to see if I can squeeze them off but it’s no use. My skin is irritated and raw, and there’s no sign of any sort of relief.
