Silas returns to the dining room carrying two bowls of steaming food. When he sets the first one down on the opposite side of the table, I’m relieved to see that it’s some kind of broth or soup. He circles the table and puts my bowl down in front of me, positioning the handle of the spoon inside so that it’s in perfect placement for me to grab it with my right hand.
I wait for Silas to move back to the other end of the table, but he doesn’t budge. He continues to stand over me, clearly waiting for something to happen. The pressure of his presence and his close proximity don’t help my uneasy stomach, but I pick up the spoon anyway, desperate to get him away from me.
My first thought at seeing the yellow broth in the bowl is that this is canned soup, something pulled from whatever stores of food Silas has stockpiled over the years or acquired in the last few months. When I pull the spoon up out of the bowl, though, I’m surprised to see chunks of vegetables that are too firm and precisely cut to be from a can. My observation is confirmed when I try the soup and taste the unmistakable flavors and textures of fresh carrots and zucchini.
In my excitement over the vegetables, I’m startled when Silas moves to make his way around the table to his chair, my distracted mind having forgotten all about him. I’m already working on my third spoonful by the time he sits down. He looks thoroughly satisfied as he takes up his own spoon and watches me eat.
“I take it you haven’t enjoyed fresh vegetables in a while.”
I shake my head while savoring yet another spoonful of soup.
Silas looks at me curiously. “How did you survive for so long?”
I’m a bit offended by his insinuation that I wasn’t capable of providing for myself or my brother while we were on our own for the last few months. “We had some food and supplies at my family’s coastal house where we were staying. We scavenged the rest.”
“You had nothing when I found you. You were ready to give your body over to a stranger to get what you needed.”
“I would have done anything for Jake,” I growl in a low voice, needing an extra moment to come back down from my sudden burst of emotion. “We had to abandon our house and drive north. Our car broke down, then the militia found it and raided our supplies. They torched the car and chased us into the woods.” My throat tightens painfully as I recall my final days with Jake. “We had a couple of close calls, so my brother was overly cautious after that. A weapon would have made that situation better, and that man was willing to give one to me.”
“In exchange for enslaving you for days,” Silas says as he completes the thought for me.
“I was going to kill him.” The words sound strange coming from my mouth, but they’re the truth. “When he was distracted enough and I had the right opportunity, I was going to take that man’s life.”
A pleased look of understanding crosses Silas’ face at my admission. “I knew you had it in you.”
“Had what?”
His grin only widens. “The darkness. Somewhere beneath that pretty little face of yours, there’s a dark part of you that only people like me can understand.”
I shake my head vehemently. “I am nothing like you.”
Silas slams his fist down hard on the table. “You are exactly like me!”
Silence fills the space between us as our escalating conversation comes to an impasse. It takes some time, but the fiery look on Silas’ face finally begins to fade; and he refocuses his attention on the bowl of soup in front of him.
I do the same, avoiding any eye contact with Silas by looking only at my soup, my enjoyment over eating it spoiled by the intensity of the conversation Silas and I have just had. It’s not enough to quell my ravenous appetite, though, so I continue to eat every bite of fresh vegetables and every last drop of warm broth.
When it’s completely gone, I sit back in the chair and take a moment to let my stomach settle as it learns how to process food again after such an extended break. Between the soft lighting of the room and the satisfying feeling of having a full stomach, I have to fight my natural desire to close my eyes and fall asleep.
Silas clears his throat as he grabs my empty bowl from the table, his sudden appearance ripping me from my peaceful state. “We should turn in for the night.”
I nod in agreement and watch Silas take the empty bowls to the kitchen as I stand up from my chair. He turns on a flashlight and flicks off the main light in the dining room before leading the way down the hall.
A wave of concern washes over me as he walks in the direction of the bedroom, turning around after a few steps to ensure I’m following.
But I’m not following. My body isn’t moving an inch. How could I not have realized this before? How could I not see this coming?
Silas looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to come to him. It’s not until he takes a step toward me that my body finally responds, reluctantly moving toward him, then following him into the bedroom.
When we’re both inside, Silas sets down the flashlight on the nightstand and focuses his attention on me. “Lie down on the bed.”
My heart races within my chest at his words, but I have no choice but to comply. I lie down amidst the disheveled bedding that hasn’t changed since I woke up in this room earlier.
Silas opens the drawer of the nightstand and removes two sets of metal handcuffs before he turns off the flashlight, eliminating every bit of light from the room and stealing any ability I have to see what’s coming next. The foreboding clinking sounds of the handcuffs taunt me as he walks around to the other side of the bed.
“Give me your right hand.”
I can’t help the slight shaking of my fingers as I raise my hand up into the darkness toward him. He grabs it and secures one end of the handcuffs around my wrist. I’m expecting him to ask for my other hand, but the request never comes. I only hear the sound of metal contacting metal as my right hand is pulled around by the handcuff serving as its leash. Eventually the sounds and movements stop, and I can’t move my hand away anymore. The two pairs of handcuffs linked together have me secured by my right wrist to the bedframe.
Silas is on the move again, his heavy steps circling around the bed. My eyes have adjusted to the darkness just enough to see the outline of Silas removing his shirt and slipping out of his pants. He’s crawling onto the bed now, lying down next to me as I remain completely still.
“Roll to your side,” he demands, and I gladly turn so that I’m on my side facing away from him.
My breathing quickens as he readjusts his position so that the entire length of his body is spooning mine. His arm is wrapped over and around my stomach, his hand coming dangerously close to the parts of my body that I fear he’ll take advantage of next.
“You need to relax,” he breathes out against the back of my hair. “You need this as much as I do, and you know it.”
At any moment his curious hands will roam my body, finding the private parts of me he’s seen but not fully taken advantage of yet. My muscles are tense with fear and worry coursing through me, but nothing else happens. Despite the fact that I’m completely vulnerable to the man sharing this bed with me, he doesn’t make his move.
I’d like to think I’m safe from it, that the contact I’m afraid of will never come, but I’m not going to fool myself into thinking Silas will never want a taste of me. This is only one night in a long succession of nights he has planned to be with me. The odds aren’t in my favor, and the sooner I accept that, the easier it’ll be when he takes the final step, one that will ultimately tear me apart.
11
I’m struggling to stay awake as I sit at the dining room table holding the ice pack to my left hand. Silas’ latest attempt at rehabilitating my hand is only partially to blame for my current state of exhaustion. Sleep was difficult to accomplish on my first night in the same bed with Silas, even though his touch never amounted to more than pressing his body up against mine and wrapping his arm around me. Despite the comfort of sleeping in an actual bed again, I would have mu
ch preferred being alone and strewn on the cement floor of the dark room instead.
“We’re going on an excursion,” Silas declares as he looks up from the map that’s spread on the other side of the table. “You feeling up for it?”
It takes every bit of control I have not to show my true excitement at the thought of being out in the fresh air and sunshine. “Sure.”
Silas busies himself with collecting a first-aid kit and some other supplies in a large black backpack before he returns to me with socks and tennis shoes in hand, setting them down on the floor in front of me. The shoes look brand new, a significant upgrade from the worn shoes I was stuck with before.
“I can tie the laces if you want,” he offers with only a hint of sarcasm in his tone as he takes the ice pack away from my left hand.
“I can tie my own damned shoes,” I retort as I grab the socks and pull them on my feet. The shoes quickly follow, but the process of tying them takes way more time and effort than I’d like to admit. I push through the discomfort to force my left fingers to help complete the task, finally getting the shoelaces fully tied.
Silas waits for me near the front door, a slight smirk on his face that’s surely a result of watching me struggle to do something as simple as tying my own shoes. I hate the impression of weakness my disability demonstrates to him.
I meet Silas where the hall toward the bedroom intersects with the entryway of the house. I’ve eyed this heavy wooden door that connects the house with the outside world, but this will be my first time stepping beyond its threshold. Silas releases the locks that keep the door secure and pulls the door open.
The immediate rush of fresh air is invigorating as I follow Silas outside into the warm sunshine. Standing in place with my eyes closed for a long moment, I savor that feeling while Silas takes care of locking the door.
When I open my eyes, the scattered trees and bushes that fill the space between here and the tall wooden fence remind me of the other structure that has a permanent fixture in the ground on this property. My eyes inevitably wander to the left in the direction where I know my brother’s makeshift grave rests, and I have to swallow the emotion that threatens to rise within me at the thought of his body buried there.
“Do you want to see it?”
Before Silas has even completed his offer to visit Jake’s grave, I’m already shaking my head to silently decline. I’m not ready to face that reality yet.
Turning away from that direction to follow Silas down the stone path from the front door, I distract myself from thoughts of Jake by taking in the exterior of the place in which I’ve been held for a week now. It’s built of grey stone bricks, which line the exterior walls of the house, making it almost seem like a castle or fortress if not for the normal pointed roof covered in solar panels. The second story of the building has several windows, but looks as though it is much smaller than the first floor.
We round the corner of the house to arrive at a two-car detached garage that’s also topped with solar panels. Silas moves to the left door and types in a code on a small box affixed to the wall. The door slowly rises to reveal a silver BMW coupe inside, the vehicle in pristine condition. The open garage door allows enough light into the space that I can see the black Chevy pickup truck behind the other garage door and an extensive number of gas cans tucked away under a large wooden workbench. The remainder of the space is filled with various tool chests and power tools.
When Silas unlocks the car and climbs inside, I quickly follow and get into the passenger seat. The interior of the car is just as impressive with its soft black leather seats and sunroof. The dashboard lights up and the engine purrs when Silas starts the car, and he almost immediately puts it in gear.
As we exit the garage, he pushes a button, and I hear the garage door closing behind us. He accelerates unnecessarily then brings us to an abrupt stop at a keypad panel just before a large wooden driveway gate that reaches the height of the fence surrounding the property. As he inputs the code, my eyes follow the wiring from the keypad box as it travels up to a solar panel bathed in full sunshine on the inside of the fence.
With all of the luxuries and protections I’ve seen so far in this place, it’s no wonder Silas is worried about being attacked. People would kill for the resources and amenities he enjoys every day.
The gate slowly rolls to the side until it’s open completely. Silas inputs the code to make the gate start to close again and steps on the gas to propel us out onto the dirt road.
I struggle to strap on my seatbelt as he takes the curves much faster than he should. There’s nothing but thick forest and rolling mountains around us, and though the road gains and dips in elevation as we drive, overall we seem to be losing elevation. It can only mean Silas’ house is tucked away in the mountains.
We take a few different dirt roads before we find pavement on a two-way road that’s not nearly as curvy and dangerous. It looks clear of any debris or abandoned cars, and there’s no sign of any houses or businesses yet. I lay my head back against the headrest and watch out of the window for these expected signs of civilization that I know we’ll be encountering soon. My eyelids become heavy as I wait for them to appear, and within minutes I give in to exhaustion and fall asleep.
“Ash.”
I hear the soft mention of my name, but my body makes no attempt to awaken.
“Ash,” the voice says again, accompanied by pressure on my shoulder this time.
It’s quiet and peaceful where I am. I can stay here. The world doesn’t need me.
“Ash!” The voice is more forceful this time. What if someone does need me? Jake needs me. I must open my eyes for Jake.
I do just that, turning to the side expecting to see my brother in the driver’s seat, but Jake isn’t there. There’s only Silas. There’s only the man who took my brother’s life.
This sudden realization, one coming quickly after emerging from my unconscious state, causes my entire body to jump. I look away from Silas, embarrassed by my reaction and disgusted by the dirty trick my own mind just played on me by making me think for a moment that I was back in the Subaru with Jake on our way to New York to find out what has happened to our parents. The devastation I’m left with in my reality makes me want to break down completely, but only silent tears emerge from my eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Silas asks, sounding genuinely concerned, but there’s no way I’m talking to him about this.
I discreetly wipe the tears from my cheeks before turning back to him. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
He doesn’t seem to buy my answer, but he doesn’t push the issue any further. “Let’s go, then. We’re here.”
I don’t know where here is, but I’ll gladly take it over being in this car that has inadvertently brought up painful memories of my brother. I make my way out of the vehicle quickly, ready for any distraction I can get.
It doesn’t take long for me to figure out why we’ve stopped at this place. The sign outside the single-story tan building in front of us indicates that this was a physical therapy office.
“You’re really determined to fix my hand, aren’t you?” I ask with both sarcastic amusement and genuine surprise.
Silas barely glances at me as he sticks a switchblade and extra magazine of ammo in his back pocket, remaining completely unaffected by my question. After checking the magazine in his handgun, he pulls the slide back to ready the weapon. He grabs a small flashlight out of his black backpack before slinging the bag onto his back and closing the car door.
He looks at me with a serious expression and says, “Let’s go.”
I follow Silas toward the front door of the building, not surprised to see that the glass in the door has already been broken by looters. He keeps the gun and flashlight drawn in front of him as he opens the door and steps inside.
“Stay close,” he whispers as we enter the waiting room area that’s covered in toppled chairs and discarded paperwork. My heart begins to race as we turn a corner and cree
p down a hallway that darkens the farther away we get from the natural light of the waiting room. I’m grateful for the fear, though, as it serves to distract me from how reminiscent this is of the times Jake and I scavenged abandoned buildings for supplies.
The doors we encounter in the hallway are already open, revealing windowless patient rooms inside and a couple of bathrooms. Toward the end of the hall, there’s a breakroom that looks like a tornado has ravaged it, empty soda cans and trash strewn across the floor, empty shelves in the open cabinets above the sink. When we reach the last door at the end of the hallway, Silas abandons the cautious stance he’s been maintaining and lowers his gun.
The room appears to be an office with a standard wooden desk covered in paperwork and folders on one side of the room. When Silas shines the flashlight on the wall opposing the desk, the pleased sigh that escapes him tells me we’ve found what he’s looking for.
Custom wooden shelving is built into the wall and covered with neatly ordered medical reference books. He tucks the gun in the back of his jeans and starts by illuminating the top shelf, running the flashlight slowly across the line of books. He stops to select certain books that he pulls off of the shelf and tosses to the floor. This process continues until he’s gone through the entire collection and has a stack of books built up next to his feet.
Silas catches my glance in the glow of the flashlight as he turns around, but he quickly moves on to search elsewhere in the room. “We’re looking for equipment now,” he explains as he checks each drawer in the desk. “Therapy aids. Whatever we can get.”
I’m surprised by the determination he’s showing in this quest for items that could rehab my hand. It puts me in a strange position: accepting his help knowing all the ways he’s hurt me and destroyed what was left of my life. I don’t like the idea of working with Silas like this and owing him for his help, but I can’t deny the excitement I feel at the thought of having a fully functional hand again.
“Follow me,” he commands, and I fall in step behind him as we leave the office and move back down the hall.
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