The Lost

by Natasha Preston

  Somehow, I don’t think it is. You don’t get over the death of your sibling or the rejection of a parent, not completely.

  “Evan, you are enough.”

  He sucks a long breath in through his teeth. “No one has ever said that.”

  “Not even your mom?”

  “At the time, she was too buried in the grief of losing Ellie. By the time she resembled my mom again, I was doing okay. Luke and I got through it together.”

  “You were only ten.”

  “I grew up fast.”

  “No one should have to grow up fast like that.”

  “Piper,” he breathes, closing his eyes. “Can we not talk about this anymore, please?”

  “Of course. I’m sorry.”

  “No.” He opens his eyes. “It’s not that. You’re not hurting me, you’re healing me, but it’s too much.”

  I bite my lip, my heart light with the knowledge that I’ve given him some peace, even without trying. I wish his mom were able to tell him that his dad was wrong at the time.

  “Okay.” I sit straighter and smile, shifting the mood. “What’s your favorite food?”

  He grins. “Burgers from Lyle’s. You ever been?”

  “No, but I’ve heard good things. It’s just out of town, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. When we get out, we’re going.”

  Don’t ask if it’s a date.

  “Sounds good to me. We like this game in here: Where would you be right now if you could go anywhere?”

  “Right now, I’ll take anywhere.”

  “I said that the first time I was asked, too.”

  He chuckles. “I guess we’d all just rather be on the other side of these walls.”

  “What do you want to do with your life?”

  “Ah, the questions continue.” He smiles. “I haven’t figured that out yet. There’s a lot of pressure to take any job, and I would to get some money and help my mom, but I want a career, too, you know?”

  “I get that. People settle far too easily where we live, and I know there is a dramatic lack of opportunities, but sometimes you have to make things happen yourself.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” he says, taking a sip of water from the bottle.

  “I’ve never had an alcoholic drink. Unless you count one sip of my mom’s champagne last New Year’s Eve. Kind of sad, right?”

  “You’re seventeen; you’re not supposed to have had a drink yet.”

  “Right, but most people have.”

  “You are not most people, Piper.”

  I love how Evan sees me. He has a lot of belief in me, though I’m still a stranger. Up until now, it’s only been my parents, Hazel, and one teacher who think I can do more than stay in this town and wait tables.

  The speaker crackles.

  Evan and I make eye contact.

  It’s morning, so not late enough for our creepy bedtime song.

  The boom of bass makes me jump. I throw out my hands, gripping the sofa. It so similar to the noise in room one. Then, they play an instrumental song that I don’t recognize, but it’s loud, obnoxious, and full of constant beats that make me want to rip my hair from my scalp after only ten seconds of listening.

  “What the hell is this?” Theo shouts over the volume as he walks into the room, followed by Priya.

  Priya stomps toward us with a scowl. She curls up on the sofa and closes her eyes.

  This is just another way to keep us on our feet and prevent us from relaxing for even a second.

  Evan takes my hand that’s digging into the cushion of the sofa.

  “It’s okay,” he says, pulling me closer. I slump against his side and wait. Because what else can we do but wait for them to finish having their fun and turn it off?

  Another reminder that we don’t have one scrap of control in here.

  Suddenly, the room is drenched in darkness.

  “Everyone sit down,” Evan shouts.

  Besides Lucie and Theo, we all are.

  “I’ve got you, come on,” Theo says to Lucie in a voice I can barely make out under the music. She takes Theo’s outstretched hand and sits down on the sofa.

  “Are you all okay?” I shout.

  I close my eyes to focus. When I hear them all reply, I sigh in relief. What are Caleb and his friends doing? Loud music and no light.

  Can they see us? I would imagine they would be able to. They will have night-vision cameras, surely.

  I lay my head on Evan’s shoulder, my stomach churning and nerves frayed. What if they come in here while we’re all sitting in the dark? They could do anything.

  I wince as the volume is turned up. My ears ringing and throat clenching every time the bass kicks in.

  This is why I don’t like this music!

  Evan squeezes my hand harder and runs his thumb over my knuckles. He’s trying to distract me, to tell me he’s here and I’m not alone. I appreciate it so much, but I don’t know how I can ignore the blistering sound of that music or the way it makes me feel sick.

  You’re fine. Keep calm. Go somewhere else.

  This isn’t supposed to happen in here. They do mess with us, but they don’t hurt us in this room, not directly anyway.

  Why are they doing this now?

  “Everyone okay?” Evan shouts. I can barely hear him over the music now, and he’s sitting right beside me.

  Rather than screaming back and hurting my throat, I nod against his shoulder. I’ll be fine. I’ve survived worse by now. At least here, we’re all together. We’re not doing this in solitary.

  Then, the music stops, and the lights flick on. I blink my eyes open and lift my head off Evan. Hazel and Priya are huddled together, their heads buried in the cushions, and Lucie is in Theo’s arms. They all sit up and look over.

  “Why?” Priya asks.

  No one has an answer.

  “Do you think they’ll do that again?” Lucie’s wide eyes are full of fear and rimmed with unshed tears.

  I know what she’s thinking: There could be no breaks. It could be room after room, only to come back here and face new tortures.

  They’re getting worse.

  “I’m going to get us something to drink.” Priya stands and heads to the kitchen area.

  I give her a sympathetic smile as she walks past me. She needs to be doing something productive again.

  I do, too, but I’m not exactly sure what that is in this moment. My heart is still racing at the thought of this being a regular thing. We’re no longer pawns in their games in the torture rooms, but we’re also players in here.

  No escape. No hope.

  That’s what they’re trying to do. They want to take everything from us, prove who holds all the cards.

  I’m not stupid, I know the deal here. I know the power they have over me, even if I won’t ever accept it or stop challenging it.

  “You all right?” Evan asks. He hasn’t let go of my hand yet. I sort of need him to keep holding it for a while; he’s the only thing preventing me from trembling.

  “I am now,” I say, blowing out a deep breath. Breathe long and slow. In and out.

  “What the hell was that? Has that happened before?” I ask Evan.

  “I’ve never experienced that, but then I’ve not been in here long, even before all of you. And I think they’re getting worse.”

  Yep. We’re all going to have to fight a whole lot harder.

  29

  In the end, Evan makes breakfast for everyone, and we kind of pretend the whole random morning music thing is no longer an issue.

  Priya, Hazel, and Lucie show gratitude; Theo says thank you, but his mouth is tight. I understand he doesn’t trust Evan yet, but this cold-shoulder thing isn’t going to help.

  Priya and Hazel clean up. Hazel is beginning to take on a role similar
to Priya. Planning escapes isn’t their strong suit, but they are doing what they can.

  I’ve taken on more of a Theo-style role, being strong, coming up with ideas, volunteering for things I don’t want to do. It’s what I need to do to get through. I have to be working toward escape or I’ll just be accepting that this is our life forever. The playing-dead idea is kind of a last resort since all they have to do is check our pulse.

  There is no life in here. We’re stuck in perpetual hell until the day we’re free.

  After breakfast is done, everyone kind of does their own thing. Priya reads, Hazel puts a mindless DVD on, Theo heads into the bedroom, probably to sulk, and I stay at the kitchen table with Evan.

  “How are you holding up?” I ask.

  He leans his forearms on the table. “I’m holding,” he replies. “Breakfast went well…right?”

  I nod. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “You want to join Hazel and watch TV or…?”

  “Or go for a walk outside,” I say sarcastically.

  “I meant cards. There’s a deck on the bookshelf.”

  We have more entertainment than I would have thought we’d get. But making it nicer in here only makes it that much worse when we’re sent into a torture room.

  “What do you want to play?”

  He grins. “Poker.”

  “You’ll have to teach me.”

  “That I can do,” he replies, and rises to get the cards.

  As it turns out, he cannot teach me, because I suck beyond belief. Poker isn’t my game, and if we’d have been playing for money, I would be broke.

  But I laughed. For the first time since I was taken, I laughed. A lot.

  It’s so nice to feel human again. My heart is a fraction lighter, my mouth curved into a smile. It’s an odd feeling considering where I am, but for now, I’m enjoying it.

  I lean back in the seat and throw my cards into the center of the table. “I’m awful!”

  Evan chuckles. “You really are. I’ve taught a lot of people how to play, but I’m throwing in the towel with you.”

  I shake my head. “Sorry.”

  “Evan to the waiting room,” Caleb says over the crackling speaker.

  Evan’s smile falls. He’s only just come in here. What if they keep him away for months again?

  “No,” I whisper.

  Evan covers my hand with his and my heart falters. “It’s okay. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

  He’s only been here a little over two days, I’m not ready for him to go yet. He made me laugh!

  “Whatever it is, you can do it.”

  “Piper to the waiting room,” Caleb calls next, his voice musical.

  Evan looks up at the camera in the corner and scowls.

  “Piper, not again,” Hazel says, gripping my arm. Her eyes are wet with tears.

  I can’t see that right now. There is no room for weakness where I’m about to go.

  “It’s okay, Hazel. I can do it.”

  Evan moves his hand, but only to hold onto mine. “We’ve got this, Piper.”

  Standing with him, I try to smile as my stomach churns with nerves. It’s too soon, I wanted more time after room five.

  Oh God, we’re going together, what if Caleb wants two people in there again? What if Caleb wants two people in room zero?

  Nope. Nope. Don’t think like that.

  I walk with Evan, not missing the wounded look Theo gives us. I don’t have the mental capacity to even go there, so I don’t. We stop at the door until it clicks.

  Evan is the one to push it open.

  The speaker crackles again.

  “What the…?” I mutter as Mozart is played into the room. This is a new song. They’ve not played this before.

  “Music?” he asks, squeezing my hand.

  “They didn’t play music when you were in here?”

  He shakes his head with a frown. “No, that’s new.”

  There seem to be a lot of new things.

  I bite my lip and then say, “Well, it doesn’t matter. Let’s just get through this, okay?”

  Click.

  The door at the end is unlocked.

  “Evan…”

  He looks back as he starts to walk into the empty room in front of us. “Yeah?”

  “If it’s room zero?”

  Before I can blink, he spins around, facing me, his body almost pressing into mine. “You don’t need to worry about anything, Piper. You won’t be dying in that room, I can promise that.”

  “You’ve known me two days,” I remind him.

  “That feels like a lifetime when you bring sunshine into this dungeon.”

  I couldn’t have put it better myself. I thought I could get through this because I have Hazel, but she hasn’t been herself at all. Theo has turned frosty with me. I’ve been alone. Until now.

  30

  “Room three,” Evan says as we stop in front of the door. It’s open an inch.

  I haven’t been in this room before. Light. Room three. And room four, sleep deprivation. Those are the only rooms I’ve not been in. Oh, and obviously room zero.

  Hazel hasn’t done a room once yet.

  I guess I piss them off more than Hazel does. But they won’t drive a wedge between us, it isn’t Hazel’s fault.

  “You’ve done this one?” I ask, squeezing Evan’s hand tighter. Somehow having another person with me is making me more nervous. Or perhaps that’s just the unknown. I don’t know what to expect in here.

  Evan nods. “Too many times to count. We’ll be fine, okay?”

  My heart is racing as I reply, “Okay.”

  Taking the lead, Evan pushes the door open with his free hand and leads us into the room. There is nothing in here; it’s a white box. On the ceiling is one big light, like the whole thing is a light.

  I lick my lips. While I don’t think bright lights will be the worst room, I’m not naive enough to think it’s going to be easy. I get headaches from being in the sun for too long, and I’m going to have to spend some time in this room with what I would imagine is super-strong lighting.

  The door clicks locked behind us. Evan turns to face me. He’s calm, like he knows what’s coming. He does, and he’s survived this.

  Though I can’t see how room five could ever get easier.

  He takes my other hand and steps closer. “You can do this, Piper.”

  “Don’t let go,” I whisper as the room is cloaked in darkness.

  Gasping, I step closer to Evan.

  “It’s okay. It’s always dark first. Close your eyes, Piper, and keep them shut.”

  I don’t ask why I would need to close my eyes in a dark room, but I have a feeling that if I don’t do what said he says, I’ll regret it.

  I blink my eyes and squeeze them shut. “Are your eyes closed, too?” I ask him.

  “Yeah. Don’t open them.”

  How bright can it get?

  My heart hammers, and my breath is shallow.

  “Calm down, Piper,” he soothes. “Breathe deeply.”

  I take a deep breath and relax my grip on Evan’s hands as my lungs fill with oxygen.

  “Good.” He lets go of my hands and wraps his arms around my back.

  This is rather intimate, but he’s not doing it because he wants anything to happen between us. This is support. He’s doing everything he can to make this as easy on me as it can be. I really, really appreciate it. Being strong and upbeat all the time is exhausting; it’s nice to be taken care of the way we take care of Lucie and Hazel.

  I hold on to Evan and press my face into his strong chest.

  The light switches on with a loud thud and floods the room. It’s bright. It’s impossibly bright, and my eyes are closed and buried in Evan’s T-shirt.

  “Evan,�
� I whisper. The light burns, my eyes sting, my skin prickles.

  His body tenses, and he bows his head against my shoulder. “I know.” His fingers dig into my back. “Keep your eyes closed.”

  I couldn’t open them if I wanted to. The light burns as it is.

  “It’s too much,” I whimper. My throat is dry from the heat the light is giving off, my head pounding from the brightness.

  Evan’s knees give out, and he takes me to the floor with him. We don’t let go of each other. I’m scared to move because I know it will only get worse if nothing is shielding my eyes.

  They’ve cut the lights four times already today, and they’ve been doing it for days. Each time it comes back on, it’s like being hit by the sun.

  “You’ve got this, Piper,” he whispers.

  I don’t know how I would have done this alone. I thought it would be better than the noise and heat, but it’s not. It’s so much worse.

  The lights go out again, and we’re cloaked in darkness. It offers only a small amount of comfort. The damage has been done; my head pounds so hard, it hurts to blink. I need some pills and water. Nothing else will help now.

  “How long have we been in here?” I whisper.

  “Hours,” he replies.

  It feels like weeks.

  “How long is it usually?” I ask as the light clicks. I hold my breath, but this time it doesn’t hurt. The light is dim, like it was when we first came in.

  Evan looks up at the same time as I do, both of us squinting our eyes. “It’s over,” he says. “And that was about how long it lasts most of the time.”

  “Most of the time?” I ask.

  “Sometimes it’s longer,” he replies. “Don’t think of that now. Come on.”

  Pushing to his feet, he offers me his hand.

  I place my hand in his and rise to my feet. “Thank you,” I say. “I don’t think I would have been able to do that without you.”

  “You would have. You know you’re strong, but I don’t think you know how strong. You’re going all the way, Piper.”

  “All the way to what?”

  The door clicks unlocked but Evan doesn’t move.

  “The end of this.”

  “We don’t know what the end is going to be.”

  “No,” he says, brushing hair from my face, “but I know you’ll be there.” Dropping his arm, he takes a breath. “Let’s get back.”