Page 19 of Ash Storm

8

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Reka

The first night had been horrible.

The second night was a hundred times worse—because exhaustion was starting to weigh on Reka, because she was hungry, and thirsty, and so fucking worried about Chloe, who was barely responsive by now, lying on the dirty mattress with her head on Reka’s lap.

Worst of all was the fear, which grew exponentially with every passing hour. In the back of her mind, Reka had been holding on to the hope that someone would come for them, but the more time went by without that happening, the more she realized just how unlikely it was.

That night, her mind started conjuring up the darkest thoughts.

What if Aileen wasn’t able to escape?

What if she’s in another cell, just like this one or … worse.

That was a thought she couldn’t bear to fully articulate.

What if we’re never found?

People disappear all the time.

What if—

At times, it seemed like the night would never end.

When it finally did, the gray light coming through the narrow window brought little comfort with it.

When the door finally opened, Reka was ready to go on her knees as many times as necessary to get a cup of water for her and Chloe. Her heart fell when she noticed Thick Mustache’s empty hands.

“Get up!” he growled.

Reka hesitated for an instant. Junior stepped forward, flashing a thin, cruel smile. In his hands, he held a cattle prod.

“Up, now,” Thick Mustache repeated.

Reka got up as quickly as her legs allowed her to, pulling Chloe up with her.

“Please,” she said, her own voice rough with disuse and dehydration. “We need food and water.”

“Do as I say, and there will be a reward,” Thick Mustache said suggestively. “Make us wait, and we will lock the door and come back tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

She didn’t know if they could survive another day in here without anything to drink.

After so long staying still, moving hurt, but Reka managed to get herself and Chloe to the front of the cell.

“Don’t even think of trying anything,” Thick Mustache said.

“Or do,” Junior said, his English accent so thick it was barely comprehensible.

Reka recognized the voice.

It is him. He’s the one who was speaking outside our cell.

She wondered vaguely who he’d been speaking with.