The Lost

by Natasha Preston

  Cold water continues to drum on my face, hitting my mouth and nose. How is he doing this for so long? The water is never-ending.

  My lungs burn.

  He needs to stop. I need him to stop.

  Caleb, no!

  My hands cramp.

  I’m going to die.

  My lungs deflate. I can’t take a breath, but I need oxygen. I have nothing left.

  “Hmm, hmm, hmm,” Caleb hums as the water comes to an abrupt stop.

  I turn my head the best I can in the restraint against my forehead, and it’s just enough to move my mouth from directly touching the towel. I take a deep breath.

  My eyes sting with unshed tears. I know that Caleb wouldn’t be able to tell if I was crying with the water already on my face, but I’ll know.

  You will not break me.

  Beside me, I can hear Lucie cry quietly. I focus on her. I’m not alone. I have someone else going through this with me.

  Water slams into my face again. I clamp my mouth shut and stop breathing.

  It keeps coming and coming and coming.

  I dig my heels into the bed and scream so loud in my head that I’m sure Caleb will be able to hear it.

  He doesn’t stop. Water whacks my face, drilling into my mouth. I clamp my lips closed harder and swallow a sob.

  My legs shake, hitting the mattress as my lungs scream in pain.

  I want this to end. Stop! He’s going to kill me. This is my punishment for challenging him. Oh God, this is it.

  My legs go heavy. The water continues to pour onto my face.

  I’m never going to see my parents again.

  Every muscle in my body relaxes; my hands drop their grip and my feet fall to the side.

  Caleb moves back. Air fills my lungs in a big rush that makes me light-headed. If I weren’t already lying down, I would have hit the floor by now.

  My body is done already. But Caleb isn’t. Chuckling, he begins humming, and water hits my face again.

  • • •

  Time passes so slowly. I feel the agony of every second. My chest aches heavily, fingers numb from holding on so hard.

  Caleb hums again as he removes the restraints around my head, wrists, and ankles. The freezing towel is still on my face. He hasn’t told me not to move, but it’s kind of a given. And anyway, I’m not sure I can right now. I’m spent, emotionally and physically. The last thing in the world I want right now is to have any kind of conversation with him.

  So I lie still and wait.

  Caleb rips the towel from my face. I blink at the sudden assault the bright light has on my eyes. I avert my gaze, not giving him the satisfaction of any kind of communication. But he’s not even looking at me.

  He unbuckles Lucie next, and she rolls onto her side, away from us both.

  I don’t move my head, but I do follow him with my eyes. He chucks an empty bucket to the side and heads out the door.

  The door shuts, and I try to jump to my feet. Gripping the edge of the bed, I close my eyes as my vision blurs and wait for the head rush to pass. Every inch of my body hurts.

  One, two, three, four…

  I get to eleven before my head stops spinning. I open my eyes.

  Lucie hasn’t moved. Her restraints are undone, but she’s lying in the same position as if she hasn’t realized Caleb has released us and left.

  “Can you get up?” I ask her. Caleb hasn’t touched her in hours, or what I assume to be hours, so I don’t know why she’s not getting up. She’s had time to physically recover.

  “I don’t want to,” she murmurs, staring up at the ceiling. Her red hair has dried, but it’s still stuck closely to her head. It must have been a while since Caleb paid any attention to her for her hair to be bone-dry.

  Mine is dripping.

  Sniffing, I shove my hair over my shoulders, ignoring how the water seeps lower into the fabric of my top.

  “Lucie, please, you need to get up,” I plead. She can’t fall apart right now. We need to go. I need to get back. I have to see Hazel, see something good from my life outside of these walls.

  “Go back, Piper. I’m going to see if they’ll let me run.”

  My eyes bulge. “No, Lucie! Don’t think like that. Come back with me and sleep on it. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “What’s the point? I won’t feel any different tomorrow. I’ve had enough, Piper. I’m done.”

  I grab Lucie’s hand. That’s it. I’ve had enough. She has to get it together! I’m tired, my chest hurts, my throat is raw, and I just need to curl up in bed and be the other version of me.

  She needs to get it the hell together long enough to get back in that room where we’ll be locked in and she can’t make any dumb decisions.

  “Don’t, Piper,” she says, tugging her arm. But I don’t let go. “Seriously, I—”

  “Save it and get up.” I pull, and she swings her legs over the side before she falls off the bed.

  “What are you doing?” she demands.

  “Good, you’re up. Let’s go.”

  Narrowing her eyes, she snaps, “Are you stupid? You heard what I said.”

  “I heard. Now, let’s go.”

  “Piper!”

  “No!” I shout. “Stop being a bitch and get back to the room now. If tomorrow you want to offer your head on a platter to them, so be it, but right now, after what’s just happened to us, you need to come back.” I widen my eyes, trying to tell her there’s been a development. That we might all have a chance of getting out of here alive.

  Lucie frowns, tilting her head to the side like she’s trying to figure something out.

  Yes, get that I’m telling you something. Trust me one last time.

  “Fine, but if I still feel like this tomorrow…”

  “Then you do what you need to. Okay?”

  She dips her chin in agreement and we both stumble to the door. Most of the water was on my face, but the neckline of my top is damp and cold. I don’t care enough to stop and get fresh clothing.

  Lucie and I run out of the room with unsteady legs and almost slam into the wall in the corridor. I place my palms on the wall and take a breath. Lucie sobs and slaps her hand over her mouth. “Piper, I want to get out of here.”

  I’m not sure whether here refers to this hallway or the building as a whole, but I agree that we need to keep moving. I take her hand and push away from the wall. My legs, weak from either the water torture or shock, carry me slowly along the hallway to the door of the orientation room.

  We press on, clinging to each other like we’ll fall if we let go, and pass through the clothes room, the random empty room, through the waiting room, and back into our space.

  We’re here.

  I tug the door shut behind it and wince as it slams. Not two seconds later, it clicks locked. My shoulders sag.

  24

  Theo jumps to his feet a nanosecond after we enter the room. “Are you two okay?”

  My eyes, stinging from the water attack, find the TV. It’s on, and the room we just ran from is still on the screen. Everything is where it was, the buckets, the beds, the towels. They haven’t been back to tidy yet.

  I turn around, not wanting to see that room ever again.

  “They kept turning the TV on,” Theo adds. “We were told to watch and feared what would happen if we didn’t.”

  They all saw what you went through.

  I hold my hand up. “I understand.” They could have been sent to one of those rooms for not watching—how could I be mad at them?

  “Lucie, are you all right?” Priya asks.

  “No,” Lucie replies and curls up on the sofa. She buries her head in her knees and ignores everyone.

  Priya sits next to Lucie, far enough away to give her the space she so clearly wants, but close enough so Lucie knows
she’s there for her.

  “You were amazing, Piper,” Theo compliments. “You didn’t show any fear.”

  “Could you hear us?”

  He shakes his head.

  “So do we think the surveillance is image-only or they just didn’t allow you to hear the sound?” I ask.

  Maybe they can’t hear us in here.

  Theo shrugs. “I’m not counting on anything.”

  I sit on the sofa that’s next to Lucie and Priya. Hazel and Theo follow and sit on either side of me. I grip the string of my friendship bracelet and spin it around my wrist. Sinking back against the cushions, I tuck my legs under myself.

  Hazel lays her hand over mine, stopping my fiddling with the bracelet. She knows I do it when I’m nervous or anxious. When my sister first died, I nearly wore it out. “Are you really okay, Pipes?”

  “I’m fine,” I reply, removing my hand as her touch makes my stomach squirm. I don’t want anyone that close to me again for a long, time. Her tender touch doesn’t feel right to me. I’m waiting for pain, though I know she wouldn’t hurt me. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  What happened in that room happened to the other Piper. That wasn’t me.

  She nods. “Okay, whatever you want.”

  I lower my voice and say, “The wall in the waiting room has been built out. I think because of the window.”

  Theo’s eyes widen. “Really?”

  “It sounded hollow when I knocked on it, and it moved slightly when I bumped into it. Definitely not solid.”

  That makes Lucie glance up. “There’s a way out,” she whispers, her empty eyes now lighting with hope.

  “Looks that way,” I reply, careful not to make any promises. This is all my opinion. I could be wrong. I’m not a builder. I have pretty limited experience with construction work, and I’m by no means qualified to make the call I’ve just made. But my dad did teach me a few things, and the wall definitely sounded the same as it did when we knocked on our old kitchen wall.

  “Let’s go, then.”

  “The door is locked, Lucie,” Theo points out. “We can’t do it now.”

  “We can’t do it when they’re here because they’ll be watching us,” I say. “There are times when it’s quiet, and I think they’ve gone. They have to leave to keep up pretenses at home. What’s the day? The hospital fund-raiser is on August fifth. They’re always at those events. I know we can’t be sure that one of them won’t stay behind, or that there aren’t more people involved, but I think it’s the best chance.”

  “I think tomorrow could be August fifth,” Priya. “I’m not positive, but I’ve been counting sunrises since I got here.”

  I’ve tried hard not to dwell on days and dates. It’s too depressing to tick by days while being stuck in here. I don’t want to know exactly how long I’ve been in captivity.

  But I think it’s coming up to a week.

  My parents have been looking for me for almost a week. Are they now fearing the worst? Do they believe I ran away?

  I’m a homebody. They know that. They have to know that I wouldn’t take off.

  “Tomorrow it is, then,” Lucie says, pinning her gaze on me.

  I frown. “I’m not against this, Lucie. I just want the best chance. The event starts at midday. They begin at the country club with golf and tennis, then onto the formal part in the evening of speeches and thank-yous to the donors. They’re always present for that.”

  Theo snorts. “They wouldn’t miss the praise.”

  “Psychos,” Hazel grumbles under her breath.

  “You’re sure they’ll all be there?” Theo asks.

  “Hazel and I are forced to go to these things by both our parents.”

  “Caleb and Owen have been to them all before. I don’t remember seeing Matt with his friends there, but he could have been with them,” Hazel confirms. “This is our chance.”

  Maybe. It’s a chance. Albeit a slim one. We don’t know what other security they have here, if any. We don’t know if they watch us from an app on their phone. I would imagine so, but we would still have enough time to escape. I hope.

  “Is everyone in agreement?” Theo asks.

  Lucie, Priya, and Hazel agree immediately.

  But no one has thought about one other issue.

  “Before I agree, what do we do about Kevin?” I ask. “If we escape, they might find out and come back here before we can get help.”

  Priya’s face falls. “They’ll kill him…if they haven’t already.”

  “They’ll either do that, or they’ll run to avoid being caught. Do you think they would risk coming back?” Hazel asks.

  “Yeah, I think they would come back to try and stop us. We can’t use the road, but we can’t be too far from it or we’ll get lost.” I reach across and grab the remote. My shoulders feel lighter as I turn it off and the room disappears. Who knows how long that will last before Caleb, Matt, and Owen switch it back on?

  I don’t need to watch them clean up after torturing me and Lucie for hours.

  “We can’t leave Kevin,” Priya says.

  “Priya, I don’t think we have a choice,” I reply. “We don’t know if he’s even still here, and if we get caught while trying to find him, this will have all been for nothing.”

  Shaking her head, she closes her eyes and allows a fat tear to roll down her cheek.

  “I understand,” she whispers.

  “We will do everything we can to get help for him.” If he’s still alive.

  I want to help Kevin if we can, but we can’t screw this up trying to rescue a potential corpse.

  “So…tomorrow.” I take a breath as the enormity of the task we’re about to take on washes over me like a tsunami.

  Theo wrings his hands. “We’ll have to use whatever we can to get through the wall. The kettle and toaster. Anything.”

  “I don’t think that’ll be a problem; it’s only plasterboard and we really want out,” Priya replies. “I’d do anything.”

  She’s not the only one. Besides, don’t you find extra strength in situations like this?

  “Let’s get some sleep,” Theo suggests.

  We’re going to need all the energy we can get, and honestly, I need to sleep. I’m exhausted.

  Lucie and I pick ourselves up off the sofa with a lot more effort than the other three. She shuffles to the bathroom. We all let her go first since she was in room five for longer. Caleb did delight in taking a break from Lucie to torture me, though.

  It seemed like he spent all his time on me. I didn’t hear him go back to Lucie at all. But that might just be because time stood still whenever water hit my face.

  I can still feel the hot burning of my lungs as I held my breath. I need to lie down and pretend it never happened. This isn’t something that I will easily forget, though. Or ever.

  After I get ready for bed, I climb into my bunk as Hazel, Priya, and Theo take their turns in the bathroom. Lucie is already curled up on her mattress. Her body is as still as a statue, but somehow I don’t think she’s asleep yet.

  Tugging the quilt over me, I snuggle down, leaving only my head out. I want to be covered, protected, invisible.

  Caleb could be watching. He likely is, wanting to witness how he’s affected us, wanting to see how broken we are.

  So I won’t cry. Not one more tear will be shed from me inside these walls.

  I close my eyes and listen to the others getting ready for bed.

  It takes only a few minutes, but the room falls deadly silent. I think everyone is tucked in, trying to sleep as they think of our escape tomorrow. It feels too soon, too rushed. We’re too unprepared. But it’s our best chance. I don’t know when any other events are planned. I only remember this one because my mom bribed me with a day out shopping with her if I attended. They always gave away a
limited number of tickets to locals. Mom and Dad volunteered with local organizations so were always chosen.

  I never like going to fund-raisers. They’re full of rich people who have every door open to them, every chance and opportunity to have the best life. They hand away lots of money without a second thought, as if it’s nothing.

  I don’t even know if I’ll be able to go to college because I have no savings, and my parents always end up having to spend theirs on car repairs and other things that crop up too often.

  My family works so hard for having such little spare cash.

  But that doesn’t matter right now. Nothing but getting free matters, and these look how much money we have and how much we care by donating parties may actually work in our favor now.

  The room is so silent, I feel like I’ve gone deaf. It’s eerie how quiet a place can be with five people in close proximity.

  I lie awake, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. I can just about make out the shapes of a few patches on the white paint. One is a bumpy pyramid like a piece of candy and another resembles a half moon.

  My eyes move from shape to shape, trying to form something else. I’m tired enough to fall asleep, and my heavy limbs are glued to the bed, unable to move an inch. But my mind isn’t willing to give up the fight.

  What if I dream about it?

  I can still feel the cold, soaking-wet towel on my face and the water pounding down as Caleb poured more and more and more.

  When I’m awake, I can force myself to think of something else, but when I sleep, I’m not in control. If I wake up upset from a nightmare, they might see and then they will win. I’d rather be tired. At least my body is resting here, I can do without switching off completely for one night.

  By tomorrow, I could be out of here anyway.

  I bite my lip and the seconds tick by, rolling into minutes.

  Across the room, Theo enters into a deeper sleep and starts to breathe heavily. The sound, usually a bit irritating, is comforting tonight. I know there are other people in the room with me. I’m not alone, but I feel it more now that there is some noise.

  I’m kind of jealous at his ability to fall asleep that fast. I’ve never been able to do that, not even before this, not even when sleeping was safe.