So I can’t, either.
But it is so cold; the bitter chill seeps into my bones.
Mom will be at home. Don’t they make someone stay at home in case there’s a phone call or something? She could be waiting for a ransom demand while Dad frantically drives all over town. He might be with Hazel’s dad.
My teeth chatter. Why am I cold? I raise my head to see what’s going on, but it doesn’t move. Every muscle in my body is stiff, too weak to support the weight of my head. I can’t even move my hand.
Wiggle your finger.
I try. I focus so hard, even going as far as picturing it in my head so my body knows what to do, but still I stay unable to move except for the aggressive trembling that’s taken over my body.
Where am I? My head swims, heart beating slow and hard. It’s the only thing I can hear. I don’t remember…
I flick my eyes open but can only see darkness. Your head is in your knees.
Am I dreaming? I dream a lot, but never like this.
God, it is freezing. I close my eyes again as my mind floats. What am I doing here? Where…
I sink into a dark, icy abyss.
12
Groaning, I grip my pounding head with both hands and tentatively crack my eyes open. The temperature is warm. Not boiling nor freezing, but warm. Low lighting fills the small room.
Sitting up straight, I look around as the blanket slips down my body. The door is open. It’s open! I slam my palms on the floor and haul myself to my feet.
My vision blurs as the blood drains from my head. I fall sideways, my body hits the wall, and my head lolls to the side.
How long have I been in here? I don’t remember much, just being hot and then cold. Beyond that, my memory is a blank.
I take a minute and focus on the rising and falling of my chest, my lungs filling with oxygen, until I’m used to being vertical. When I don’t feel like I’m going to hit the floor, I take a step. My legs work. On a gasp, I sprint out of the door and along the corridor.
I push the door open into the clothes room and lunge for a bag marked S.
This is why they have so many bags hanging up. Replacements. Will I end up in only my underwear in each room?
I tear at the opening and pull on the clothes. Once the soft material covers every inch of skin, I breathe easier. Tears sting the back of my eyes. I look up, willing them not to fall. They’ve taken so much out of me, I don’t want them to see me cry, too.
Caleb is quiet. No one tells me to go back to the room with the others, but they don’t need to. It’s pretty obvious. It’s not like Caleb is going to open the front door and let me go free.
I can’t even promise them I wouldn’t go to the police if they let me go. Not after that. I would rather die than keep their sick secret.
The curving corridor feels longer. I pad down the hall, my body shivering from the last cold snap. I think they changed the temperature six times, but I can’t really remember. When it was hot, I passed out, every time. All I really know is that I always woke up freezing.
The door at the other end opens. Theo is the only person to walk toward me, but Priya, Lucie, and Kevin are behind him. My best friend is nowhere to be seen.
I wrap my arms around myself, pushing back on the ache in my stomach.
“Are you okay?” Theo asks. He stops just a few feet from me, and I do the same.
I meet his eyes. “I don’t…”
Am I okay? I mean, not really. I have just been exposed to extreme temperatures. I’m weak, my body doesn’t know if it’s warm or still ice cold, and mentally I’m done.
They saw you without clothes.
That might even be the worst part. The indignity of having at least three pairs of eyes seeing so much of my skin without my permission. It’s a stark reminder of the power they hold. I’m just along for the ride, and if I want to live, I have to do whatever they want.
“It’s all right, come on,” Theo says.
“It was so hot…then so cold.”
“Last one was cold, right?” Theo asks.
“Yeah.” So cold.
He turns away. “Kevin, can you put the kettle on?”
“The kettle?” I ask. My grandmother always says a nice cup of tea can fix almost anything. This isn’t one of those things.
Theo’s face twists in sympathy as he glances back at me. “It helps to warm up from the inside.”
“Oh,” I reply. Maybe Grandma is on to something.
I follow Theo back into the main room. Priya hands me a blanket and gives me a sympathetic smile.
“Thanks,” I say, taking it from her and curling up on a single chair. Hazel is nowhere to be seen. Where is she?
“She’s in bed,” Priya offers, somehow guessing I’m thinking about my friend. “She was upset and feeling guilty that you were going in her place.”
“Right.” I honestly don’t know what to do with that. I just need her to be here.
“I don’t think she’s asleep, if you want to go and see her?”
I shake my head and touch my freezing lips. The skin feels rough. “I just want to warm up.”
Priya sits on the chair closest to me. “Drink your tea, and then I’ll get you some lip balm.”
“They’re chapped? They feel it.”
“Yes, always happens. Don’t worry, they’ll be back to normal in a day or so.”
I don’t want to think about that now.
“How many times do they change the temperature? I couldn’t keep up.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I always pass out. The heat is…overwhelming.”
Yep, that’s a pretty accurate description. Knowing the heat is coming back is hell. There’s very little reprieve. The cold, although torturous, doesn’t last as long. It’s all about the heat, about making you feel like your body is on fire and your life is slowing burning out.
“I need a shower.” Hot sweats and cold sweats have left me feeling gross.
“Warm up first,” Kevin says, putting a mug of tea on the coffee table. “Trust me. You’re only going to feel worse if you get into a hot shower when you’re still shivering.”
I raise my hands and sure enough, they’re shaking. “What time is it?” I ask.
“Early hours of the morning, I would guess. It’s been dark a long time.”
“My parents will be looking by now. They’ll have the police out looking.”
Kevin and Theo share a glance, their expression holding an entire conversation.
“What?” I ask.
“Well, no one has found anything on Caleb, Owen, and Matt, and it’s been over a year.”
“Right. But that doesn’t mean we won’t eventually be found.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Theo replies, but there is nothing about his words or his flat tone that makes me think he believes them.
“God,” I breathe. What if there is no evidence again? No clues as to where we could be. I didn’t see anyone else when I spoke to Caleb or when he picked us up. Who is going to know?
Priya laughs. “This is what they do, and they’re damn experts at it,” she says, gesturing in the air. “They’re not going to make a mistake and risk being found.”
I dip my head, embarrassment filling my cheeks. “Right.”
But I shouldn’t be embarrassed to have hope.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound cruel,” she murmurs.
“No, it’s okay.” I lift my eyes and give her a smile. “I’ll just have this and then take some water to bed. I want sleep.”
Priya’s lips twitch as if she’s trying to smile but can’t quite make it. She doesn’t think I’m going to get any sleep tonight.
I’m fine, though. I mean, I know the situation I’m in, but I’m not going to sit back and allow them to win. Somehow, I’ll find a way out, and no m
atter what they do to me before that happens, I’ll deal with it. I’m stronger than they give me credit for.
I don’t give up when there is hope—not ever.
Picking up my tea, I hold it in both hands, letting the heat from the mug seep into my skin. My arms are pebbled with goose bumps still. I take a sip.
“You’re doing so well,” Theo says. “But remember, if you need to talk or cry or shout, that’s okay, too.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that, but I’m all right.”
What’s the point in breaking down? It’s not going to help. Caleb and his crew have no empathy; they don’t care if someone is hurt. They relish in the pain of others. If I fall apart, they win.
Maybe I have watched one too many true crime shows…or maybe I’ve saved my life by watching them.
I feel the cold deep in my bones, but the tea is taking the edge off it.
When I’m finished, I take my cup to the sink and go to the bathroom. In the cabinet are new toothbrushes, so I tear one out of the packaging and brush my teeth.
You are fine.
They may well have hurt me, but I’m still here. I’m still fighting, bastards.
I finish up in the bathroom and make my way toward a bed opposite the ones claimed. I don’t have much energy left, but I need to get to the top bunk. My legs are weak, my body still adjusting to the drastic changes in temperature, and my head throbbing with a headache. I pull myself up, gritting my teeth as my muscles strain in protest, and slump down on the mattress.
Hazel is in the bed below mine. She doesn’t say a word or even move, so I assume she’s found sleep.
Curling the quilt around me, effectively making a cocoon, I close my eyes and wait.
I can see the white walls of the torture room, and my body feels red-hot. I flick my eyes open again. Okay, so Priya might be right about not being able to sleep. The image of that room needs to leave.
Think about something else. Justin Bieber. Liam Hemsworth. Becoming a super-successful detective and putting men like Caleb behind bars.
I’ve always been curious about people who turn to crime. I love getting a glimpse into the minds of the most infamous murderers. When I’m out of here and finished with school, that’s what I’m going to concentrate on.
One day I’ll be catching guys like Caleb, Owen, and Matt.
I just have to survive them right now.
I close my eyes again, repeating in my head how I’ll win. This time, I don’t see the room. I clutch the quilt, holding onto something real, something that grounds me to this room. I’m here, not back in there. I’m still cool but warming up. My body won’t get too hot this time.
As I’m drifting, soft music fills the air. I want to listen, to place it because I don’t recognize the song, but my eyes are too heavy, and my mind is drifting.
You’ve got this, keep breathing.
With a long exhale, I let my body loosen, my muscles relax, and I sink deeper into the mattress.
I will win.
13
My body jerks, and I wake with a start. I’m too hot, the quilt stuck to my body, creating an oven effect. Kicking my legs, I manage to untangle myself.
Where am I?
My lungs burn with the lack of oxygen as panic overrides my normal bodily functions. When I’m free, I leap out of bed, barely using the ladder, and grip the side of the bunk, my nails digging into the wood.
Oh God, I’m still here.
I draw in a deep breath and then force it out.
You’re not too hot or too cold. You’re fine.
My clothes cling to my sweaty body. I didn’t shower last night because I was exhausted, but I need one now. I think I only got about three hours of sleep, but I can’t lie there anymore.
Legs, now fully supporting my weight, spin me around, and I dash into the bathroom. Light was just beginning to peek through the small window as I passed, so I know it’s morning. I’ve not had much sleep at all, but I don’t feel tired anymore.
I strip out of my old clothes and turn the shower spray on.
I step under the stream of warm water and close my eyes.
Pressing my palms against the tiled wall, I allow a few tears to fall. But I keep my head down so even if they can see me in here, they won’t see me cry.
The hot water washes away my tears. When I shut the shower off, I take two deep, calming breaths that make me light-headed. I grab a towel, wrap it around my body, and step out of the shower.
That’s enough now. No more crying. Getting upset and feeling sorry for myself aren’t going to help. People have had far worse happen to them and survived.
Once I’m dry, I grab clean underwear and slip it on under the towel. It’s much harder when you’re trying to dress while holding something around you, but the show is over. They’re not getting another glimpse of my skin today.
If they’re even watching right now.
They probably are, though. Won’t they want to see the aftermath of my first time in one of those rooms?
Of course, they will. They’ll be getting off on the fact that I cried, that I was scared. I straighten my back and let the towel drop as I shimmy the sweatshirt down over my stomach.
You assholes aren’t breaking me.
I finish up in the bathroom and go to make coffee. But Theo has beaten me to it. He’s waiting for the kettle to boil. Two mugs are on the counter in front of him.
He looks up and smiles, but it’s more of a grimace. “How are you doing, Piper?”
“I’m good. You’re up early. I don’t think it’s been light for long.”
“Yeah, I woke and noticed you were gone.”
I wrap my arms around myself. “Couldn’t get back to sleep and desperately needed a shower. You didn’t have to get up.”
“That’s okay. I’m awake now. Coffee is almost ready. Do you want to sit and I’ll bring it over?”
I nod. “Theo, I do appreciate this, but I’m not going to fall apart. I really am okay.”
His eyes question me as he watches my every move. “It’s also okay not to be okay after what you’ve been through.”
“Agreed, but I’m not going to pretend I’m falling apart because that’s how I should be after going through that.” I want to tell him that I’m still alive, so of course I’m all right, but I don’t want Caleb and his friends to hear in case they take it as a challenge.
I’d like to think I’m mentally strong enough to take a lot, but I’m not that naive to believe that what they’re going to do to me will be easy to get past.
I wait for Theo to make our drinks. “Thank you,” I say, taking my mug when he’s finished.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks as we sit on the sofas.
“What’s there to say? It was hot and then cold. I didn’t like it, and I wanted to get out.”
“You’re being quite blasé about it.”
“What do you want me to do, Theo?”
“Be honest. At least with yourself if you can’t with anyone else.”
“I am being honest! Look, it sucked. Like, royally sucked, but it’s done now. I’m not willing to allow it more head space than it’s already taken up.” Now, I focus on the next thing. I’m doing this step-by-step, day by day. I’ll get past one thing and then move to the next.
“I remember my first time,” he says. “I was in room five.”
No. “Water right away?”
He nods.
While all the rooms sound awful, some seem like they’ll be worse than others. I would rather be exposed to light, sound, and extreme temperatures than be on the brink of drowning over and over for hours.
“Caleb was there?”
“No, it was Owen. He came into the room holding a gun and strapped me to a table. While he was making sure the restraints were tight enough so I couldn’t e
scape, he told me he’d won the coin toss.”
I gasp and my heart thuds. “They flip a coin to see who will come and do the torturing”
“They did that time. I don’t know if they always do.”
“Sick, sick, sick.”
Theo nods. “Anyway, I was lying on the table, completely unable to move, when Owen put a blindfold over my eyes. I wish he’d done that first because then I wouldn’t have had time to see the buckets of water and rags.”
Pressing my lips together, I curl into the arm of the sofa. I don’t want to hear this. I absolutely do not want to know what’s in store for me when they decide it’s my turn to go in there. But I have to be prepared. If I know what’s coming, then I can keep my mind busy. I can prepare myself for what they have planned and when it’ll likely end.
“My God, Theo, do you know how long you were in there?”
“There aren’t any clocks; no way of telling how long it’s going on for; no way of knowing when it’ll end. I started by counting how many times he put that rag over my face and poured water onto it. When I got to seven, I stopped. It was too much. I had to focus on getting through it by putting myself somewhere else.”
“Theo, I’m so sorry. That’s exceptionally terrible. I can’t imagine.”
He dips his head. “For weeks after, I would wake up in a cold sweat, panicking that I was back there. When the nightmares stopped, they sent me there again.”
I’m definitely not reacting to anything they put me through. Somehow, I have to train my mind to hold on to nice things, to think of the things I love before going to sleep.
I look away, dread sinking in my stomach.
“How often do they send you in there?”
“Not for a while, but I’ve been in there five times.”
“Is it the worst one?”
His chin drops in a slight nod, jaw tight as he relives each ordeal. “By a long shot. Excluding room zero, of course. Taking a life…yeah, nothing quite compares to that. It changes your very being. The guilt and the pain of knowing what you’ve done is persistent.”
The Lost Page 7
