Conrad’s here.
He’s been here, watching me.
And he isn’t alone.
A set of eyes has been watching me from the moment I got over that cage. I wasn’t supposed to discover the way out, and now all bets are off.
I’m beginning to hyperventilate, the panic threatening to take me under, and this time if it catches me, I’m not sure I’m strong enough to get away. I’ve been dancing around it this entire tunnel. The moment I get hyper-focused on my whiff of freedom, something comes along and taunts me that it’s out of reach.
I couldn’t tell where his voice was coming from the first time; it sounded so close, and yet it was impossible. I ran and ran and didn’t stop, even when the slicing pain in my side got unbearable. The glow at the end of the tunnel felt like it wasn’t getting closer, only further away.
Debris digs into my palms as my shaky forearms fight to get me to my feet.
I’m declining; the adrenaline from freedom is depleting. The cold has seeped so far into my bones through my flesh, and I can’t tell if the tremor is now permanent, or a mixture of the fear and anticipation binding together.
But I need to run, or else I’ll never see Saint again.
I’ll never see anyone I care about again.
I won’t get to tell him how much I fucking love him, how his voice grounded me to find my way out. How I want us to finish this, move away just the two of us and make up for every single moment and milestone lost. I want to make more memories, isolate ourselves from the world, and stare at the stars every single night before we go to bed.
I want to live out the rest of my life with him.
The pain shoots up my leg when I put my weight on my ankle. Hot tears stream down my face like a rapid river. Gritting my teeth and dragging myself into the unknown, I have no clue whether I’ve run the right way, turned back, or headed into the other side of the tunnel.
Two bangs boom through the tunnel, forcing another scream to give away my location.
They were close this time. I felt the air whoosh over my bare arms.
Just when I manage to grit through the pain and bear it, my chest collides with the ground as a weight throws itself on top of me.
“Gotcha.”
The world tilts as I’m flipped onto my back, arms pinned at the side by whoever body slammed me to the ground. Another figure looms over me, and I don’t need to see clearly to know it’s Conrad. My skin feels like it wants to tear itself apart under his hateful glare, ears feel like bleeding at the sound of his voice.
“I told you there was one outcome, Indie,” Conrad says, voice thick with a sickening tone.
He leans down, hot breath coasting my skin as I slap my face to the side, the rock and gravel piercing my cheek. The next voice ushers a shudder through my body.
“And he always wins,” Morgan snickers above me.
Conrad starts to undo my belt, and another surge of energy is answered through my prayers. I buck and kick with everything left in me, but when I feel the protection of my belt slide behind my back, my sobs become broken.
“I’ve never tried this in here before. I love how loud it makes your cries.”
No.
It’s going to happen again.
Saint’s name leaves my lips so quietly, it’s the last word I’ll likely ever speak.
“Hurry the fuck up, Conrad. She’s wriggling like fuck…Dammit,” Morgan hisses above me. Despite the fear gnawing at my skin, I don’t stop.
Even as I feel every joint and muscle on fire and demand to cease, Ican’tstop.
The tips of my fingers brush against a hard jagged object, and I freeze.
“She’s half your size, Morgan,” Conrad adds with a tut, muttering something to himself.
