by Farrar, M K
Cool freshness flooded her taste buds, and she let out a groan of pleasure, her eyes slipping shut. Her salivary glands burst back to life, filling her mouth with glorious wetness. She sucked and sucked, doing everything in her power to prevent herself from crunching down and chewing, knowing that would mean the candy would be gone in an instant.
Suddenly, she became aware of how small the mint had become in her mouth. No, she didn’t want this to end. She needed to make it last.
She bent her head and held the piece of cellophane the mint had come in out in her hand and spat the remainder of the candy out into it. But she misjudged, and the candy missed the cellophane, hitting the side of her palm before it fell and landed in the dirt.
“No!” she cried, staring down at the dirtied piece of candy in dismay. “You stupid, fucking idiot!”
The mint was dirty, but she didn’t even care. She’d happily put the dirt in her mouth. The problem was that she couldn’t reach that far down to pick it back up. She could try to use her feet, but it was so tiny, she wasn’t sure she could get hold of it, and then she’d have to lift her foot up to her hand and try to exchange the two. Of course, if she was ever going to get hold of the key to the padlock, she was going to have to do the same thing. Maybe she should be considering this practice.
The pleasure she’d experienced at sucking on the mint all but evaporated. The sugar had helped to quell her nausea, however, and a little of her energy had returned. Should she use that energy to try to pick up the dropped candy, or to get back to the job she was supposed to be doing.
“The candy isn’t going anywhere.”
The sun had shifted positions in the sky, and now she was in direct sunlight again. She moved the chain around the trunk, toward where she’d peed. The urine had dried, and she didn’t really care about it anyway. At least the mint hadn’t fallen in that spot.
With the sugar giving her that bit of extra energy, she started work on the tree trunk again. It was slow and laborious, but she was making progress. She’d cleared one area and was almost a quarter of the way around now. There were still chunks of bark attached, like a mangey dog losing its fur, but the process was working. When she got too cramped in one position, she got back to her feet and rolled her shoulders and stretched her legs and back as best she could. Her thirst was the worst part. Even though she’d been terrified of the storm and had hated being cold and wet, she’d have happily gone back to that if it meant being able to have another drink. She’d never known thirst like it, all encompassing, occupying her thoughts and making her brain foggy. Moments passed where she found herself just standing there, not doing anything, and unaware of how much time had passed. She was starving, too, and knew she’d be rooting around in the dirt for the dropped mint soon enough.
Exhausted, she stopped to rest, sitting with her back up against the tree trunk. Within a minute, her chin dropped, her eyes slipping shut. She rested in that strange place between wakefulness and sleep, dreaming of tall glasses of cold water. A buffet of fresh watermelon and French fries and roasted chicken and ice cream danced across her vision. In her dream, she gorged herself, eating until juice and melted ice cream ran down her chin, and washing it down with chilled water, the ice clinking against the side of the glass.
But when she woke, it was with eyes sticky from dehydration and her mouth impossibly dry. She glanced over to where the tiny scrap of mint still sat in the dirt and swallowed. She needed it now and didn’t even care about the dirt. And she wouldn’t be making the same mistake by spitting it out either.
Cassandra wriggled into position and stretched out her feet. The chains around her ankles and wrists had chaffed, rubbing the skin red and sore. Getting wet during the night probably hadn’t helped either. Not that it mattered. She didn’t think there was a single part of her that didn’t hurt in some way. All the pains blended together in one big aura of discomfort. Even bending her toes to try to grab the small piece of mint hurt, her joints swollen and feeling as though they’d been filled with grit. It was all a result of the dehydration, she was sure, and would only get worse.
She managed to clap both soles of her feet together and trap the spat-out mint between them. Moving carefully, contorting her body into an awkward position, with her spine curved and her legs in the air, she lifted her feet up to her hands. With her breath held and teeth gritted, she reached out and pushed her fingers between her feet, grabbing hold of the dirty mint.
“Yes!” she cried, proud at her achievement.
From the clearing, she thought she heard the cheer and clap of others joining in her celebration, but she ignored it.
Not even bothering to dust off the dirt, Cass pushed the remaining mint between her lips and sucked until it was nothing more than a faint taste of toothpaste on her tongue.
Chapter Eleven
The sun continued its journey across the sky before dropping lower, behind the tree line. She was grateful for the cooler temperature, but knew it meant night was approaching once more. Was she really going to spend a second night out here? She hadn’t needed to pee since waking up that morning. That was dangerous. It showed how dehydrated she was. If it didn’t rain tonight, she was going to have to seriously consider drinking any urine she produced, though she had no idea how she’d manage the practicalities of that. It wasn’t as though she had a cup to catch it in.
She’d be struggling even more right now if it hadn’t rained the previous night, and while she didn’t feel she had much to be thankful for right now, that was something.
Pain seized her stomach, twisting her guts, and she half bent, her features screwed up, waiting for it to pass. So far, she hadn’t needed to shit, but she was worried this was the start. She couldn’t afford to waste fluid in the form of diarrhea, and she didn’t want to have to go through the indignity of being forced to sit next to a pile of her own mess.
Perhaps she needed to stop worrying about her dignity. No one was around to see her. If she died here, she certainly wouldn’t be worrying about her dignity then. Hell, she might never be found. To the rest of the world, she just vanished. Her abductor had been known as the Magician for a reason, and now she understood exactly why.
Mosquitos whined around her head, refusing to leave her alone, no matter how bad she felt. One landed on the back of her hand, and she slapped at it with her other palm.
“Quit it. I need that blood.” It felt like they’d drain her dry, and the itchiness from the bites was driving her crazy. “I should be the one eating you, not the other way around.”
She was stupidly hungry. The pains in her stomach hadn’t resulted in a bout of the feared diarrhea, but she felt as though her stomach had resorted to consuming the rest of her internal organs.
Her thoughts went to her offhand comment about the mosquitos. Maybe she couldn’t eat the mosquitos, but what about the other bugs? She’d seen plenty since she’d been here—earthworms, and beetles, and even grubs underneath the layers of bark she’d exposed when she’d been picking it off. Her throat closed over at the thought, and her stomach twisted. The bugs might even contain some liquid, wouldn’t they? One of those big, fat grubs, or the wiggly earthworms were bound to have some juice to them.
Cass swallowed hard, unsure if she was feeling nauseated or tempted.
She also had the fungi growing from the crevasses of the thick, exposed roots of the tree. Certain mushrooms might be a delicacy, but she had no idea which ones they might be. She was a city girl and had never been taught what was edible and what could kill you within hours. She eyed the ones with the red and white spotted caps. She thought she could be fairly certain they wouldn’t be good for her, but what about the pale mushrooms? Were they edible or poison in disguise?
She didn’t like the idea of eating bugs, but she didn’t think they had the potential to kill her. Some of these fungi, however, were a whole different story, and she couldn’t take the risk with them.
Eating whatever she could find that wouldn’t kill her mig
ht extend her life, but was that even the right choice? At what point would she decide she was only extending her suffering and just give up?
Not yet, she knew that much. She’d made good progress on the tree and was sure tomorrow she’d do even better. All she needed was that fucking key, and then she’d be out of here. Even if she didn’t have anywhere to go and ended up wandering through the woods, completely lost, it would still be better than dying while chained up to this tree, inhaling the stink of the decomposing body of the man who’d kidnapped her, and surrounded by his other victims. At least if she was no longer chained up, she’d be able to find a stream to drink from, or even some wild fruit. Anything was better than this, but she needed that key, and she had to stay focused on that goal.
Still, she couldn’t quite bring herself to scavenge around for insects to have as a snack.
The sun dipped lower, casting a red glow into the sky, as though the horizon was on fire. It was going to be dark soon, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
She closed her eyes, praying she’d be able to sleep right through and wake up when it was light again. The chances of that happening were slim to none, but she was allowed to hope.
The distinctive crack of a twig snapping jerked her from her doze, followed by the crunch of dried pine leaves beneath foot.
Her eyes pinged open. Was someone there?
To her right, the bushes rustled and cracked.
Cass froze, her eyes wide, peering into the gloom. Goose bumps rose on her arms, her hairs prickling to attention.
Oh, shit. What is that?
In her head, she ran through the bigger forms of wildlife out here—bears, wolves, coyotes, and cougars. She hadn’t heard any wolves howling, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. She suspected a bear was most likely, however. It was on the cusp of their hibernation season, and they’d be fattening themselves up to get through winter. They ate more than berries and fish. They were opportunistic feeders, who would steal a carcass from another predator if they could. Had the smell of the man’s body attracted one?
She still couldn’t see anything.
Another crash came from her right, and she let out a shriek then clamped her mouth shut again, breathing hard through her nose. She couldn’t make any noise. She couldn’t let it know she was here, whatever it was.
Her ears strained, but everything was silent, for the moment, at least. Had the creature gone away? Or was it standing, listening out for her in the exact same way she was listening out for it? The animal might be frightened—assuming it even was an animal. After all, it didn’t know she was chained up and helpless. The scent of human might be enough to keep it away, but the scent of death overcame any natural fear it might experience.
Please go away, please go away, please go away.
Whatever it was had sounded big, and if it decided to make a meal of her, there wasn’t much she could do about it. She could kick and make a noise, but that was all.
If it came closer, she’d have to yell. She’d try to make herself big and frightening. It wouldn’t understand the chains—the animal might even think they were some kind of weapon. For the moment, she’d keep quiet and hope it went away, but the minute it looked like it was showing an interest in her, she’d jangle those chains and yell like a motherfucker.
Her decision didn’t change her fear. Her entire body was shaking.
Had whatever it was gone already?
It was getting darker by the minute. Though there weren’t the clouds of the previous night, and she would be able to see something in the light of the moon, it still wasn’t the same as it being daylight. If the noise came from a cougar, the animal might spring at her from out of the undergrowth. She was practically a hung carcass. In the burgeoning light, she wouldn’t even see it coming.
Snap, crack. Rustle.
No, it was still there, moving slowly. Was it getting closer or moving farther away?
A sudden burst of movement startled her, and Cass sucked in a shriek, pressing herself closer to the tree trunk. But the noise grew fainter. It had left her for some reason, gotten spooked by something, perhaps.
Thank God.
She allowed herself to breathe. Whatever the creature was, it had decided to leave her alone—for the moment anyway.
She doubted she’d be able to sleep that night, not knowing there was a predator out there. What if she didn’t hear it coming the next time, and she woke to discover her leg or arm, or even throat in the grip of huge, sharp teeth? The possibility terrified her.
Not long before, she’d been hoping she’d be able to close her eyes and sleep right through the night, and only wake when it was morning. The likelihood of that happening now was slim to none.
Cass stayed as alert as she could, springing back to wakefulness at the slightest rustle of the trees or snap of a twig breaking. But as the hours crawled by, exhaustion, combined with her dehydration, muddled the lines between awake and asleep. She dreamed of giant creatures stalking the outskirts of the clearing, hearing them and sensing their eyes on her, always watching, while she never quite managed to catch a glimpse of them. And she dreamed of seven women standing around her, facing outward, toward the circle of trees, shouting at the monsters to keep them away.
Chapter Twelve
Morning dawned, bright and hot.
She’d had a restless night’s sleep and woke with numb limbs and a back that felt like it was going to go into spasms at any moment. Her eyes were gritty, and she struggled to open them fully. Every inch of her exposed skin was raised in bumps from mosquito bites. Her head felt too heavy for her neck, as though her brain had turned to concrete inside her skull. She couldn’t even swallow, the feeling stirring fluttery panic inside her.
There hadn’t been any further signs of whatever had been crashing around in the undergrowth during the night, and Cass hoped that meant whatever the creature was, it had been frightened away by the scent of human and would leave her alone from now on.
Forty-eight hours had passed since she’d been taken—two days—such a small amount of time in some ways, and yet it felt like a lifetime to her now. She’d had a life before this wood, an existence that hadn’t included the tree, or the clearing in front of her, or the dead man’s body, which was now definitely starting to smell. Flies buzzed around the body, alighting on every inch of exposed skin and crawling over his clothing. Everything felt foggy and distant, and though she needed to wake and get on with trying to free herself, she couldn’t summon the energy. She couldn’t even cry, too dehydrated to create tears.
“You have to get up.”
The female voice came from her left and sounded incredibly real.
“You can’t give up now,” said another woman, this one younger, not much more than a girl.
Then a third woman spoke. “You’ll die if you just sit there. Is that what you want? To end up like us?”
Cass managed to lift her head, squinting in the direction of the voices. Everything was blurry, but she blinked a couple of times, clearing her vision.
Three women stood in a semi-circle.
The one to Cass’s furthest left was beautiful, with long dark hair and alabaster skin, like a modern Snow White. The girl beside her was gorgeous, too, but in a completely opposite way—blonde and tan, with fuller cheeks and pink lips. The epitome of the all-American girl. The cheerleader, what had her name been...?
“Becky Dawson,” the blonde filled in for her. “I was his second kill.”
“Yes, of course, sorry,” Cass replied, shaking her head.
A third woman stood beside the next grave along. She was older, in her early to mid-thirties, and had light brown hair, cut in a sharp bob at her jawline. She was the one who’d spoken last, telling Cass she’d end up just like them if she continued to sit there. The third woman’s name came to her—Susie Banks, the one doing the law degree, who’d tried to talk her way out of the Magician killing her.
Each of the women stood beside the spots
where they’d been buried. None made any attempt to approach her, and Cass wondered if they were able to move, or if they were somehow attached to their final resting places, the same way she was attached to this fucking tree. It was most likely to become her final resting place, too.
Strangely, she felt like she should be more frightened, but she guessed there was no point in being frightened of something she’d conjured in her head. The women were a hallucination, something she’d created from the stories the Magician had told her about their deaths shortly before he’d died. Being so desperately alone, her mind must have decided she was in dire need of some company and so created some for her.
Susie Banks folded her arms across her chest. “You need to eat something. I know you don’t want to, but those grubs you considered last night were a good idea. You won’t last for weeks on them, but it’ll be enough to give you that extra boost to keep you going.”
That was how she knew the women were inside her head, Cass decided. She’d never said anything about eating the bugs out loud, had she? She’d said something about the mosquitos not biting her, but she wasn’t aware of anything that the women might have overheard.
Cass choked back crazed laughter at herself. They couldn’t overhear her. They were dead.
Still, she found herself replying. “You want me to eat bugs?”
“Yes,” said number one, Sonja Holland. “You need to eat them, and then you have to get back to work. You’re not helping yourself by sitting around moping.”
“I’m not moping.” Unfairness at the comment shot through her, focusing her attention. “It’s not as though I’ve lost some money, or a guy stood me up on a date. I think I’m entitled to feeling sorry for myself considering there’s a good chance I’m going to end up dead.”
