by W. A. R.
“I am only trying to help you and your people the best way that I know how given the circumstances.” He said simply, his voice once again nothing but a low whisper. Miles looked up at him, trying desperately to read his expression in the dark.
“Then let us go.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” Miles bit out and at his words he expected the man to jump to fury, to rage on and prove to Miles that he was indeed the enemy and could not be trusted. Instead, the man lowered his gaze, saddened. It took a long drawn out moment before the man even moved again, and when he did it was to offer Miles another piece of meat.
“I have a wife in the community; a young daughter too. I can’t risk them or even try to get them out. There is no way I could get you or your people out of here without some consequence on my head.” He said sadly, running a hand through his hair. He glanced once again at the door and Miles felt a pang in his chest. Sympathy? How was that even possible? He lowered his head, slowly shaking it as he swallowed the piece of meat that was in his mouth. What could he say, really, in the wake of everything? He damn sure wasn’t going to apologize…but still…
“In that case…thank you…for, you know…letting me speak with Amber…It…it didn’t go unappreciated.” He said, stammering over his words. They were bitter falling from his tongue but he said them and the surprised look on Ryder’s face told him it was the right thing to say.
“Thank you…for saying that.” he said gently, as if lost in thought and he fed Miles another piece of meat. Miles took it and sighed through his nose, becoming irritated with the comfortable tension between the two of them. Ryder shifted on his feet, lowering his knee to the carpet below them. “Amber is very…intimidating. I didn’t think she had it in her to do the things she said she did.” Miles spared him a sideways glance, anger bubbling up inside of him. He wanted to tell the man that he wasn’t allowed to speak of her so casually and yet, because of him, he had been given to speak to her when he shouldn’t have been able to at all. Ryder had cooperated with both he and Amber during the conversation.
He sighed. “Then you obviously haven’t been paying attention the past what…two…three months?”
“Two months…watching you guys…three watching the others.” Ryder stated simply, seemingly disgusted with himself. He quickly shook it off. “And I have been paying attention. Damien told me all about her.”
This caught Miles’s attention and he tilted his head to the side and swallowed the food. “What did Damien tell you all about us?” he asked and he could sense the tension that just gripped the air around them.
“Nothing we didn’t figure out ourselves.” Ryder stated, offering another piece of meat to him. Miles twisted away bitterly, refusing it and his help. Ryder dropped his hand in defeat and stared sadly at Miles. “You haven’t eaten or drank anything since early yesterday morning. None of you have. Please eat.” He said sternly, and yet there was the undeniable sense of pleading lacing his words. For a moment, Miles considered the entertaining thought that had the world not come about the way it had, they could have been friends; actual friends. Amber would admire his compassion and drive, and yet still, the small voice in the back of his mind told him that he was the enemy.
“Not until you answer my question.” Miles stated simply and Ryder sighed, glancing at the floor.
“Fine.” He finally decided, offering the food to Miles once again. Miles gratefully took it this time and Ryder shifted on his feet. “He told us of every relationship between you all, your strengths, your weaknesses, and who the more troublesome ones were. He shared details about your pasts and how much you all thought you knew about what was really going on.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. Miles had stopped chewing, the meat in his mouth suddenly rubber. Ryder didn’t seem to notice. “You were all quick, though. You all caught on. No one else ever has.”
“What all did he tell you?” Shelly suddenly asked, taking the words right from Miles’s mouth and startling him. He had not known that she was even awake. Ryder jumped a little, startled at her sudden words but immediately he moved, bringing a water bottle to her lips and urging her to drink. Miles knew she was thirsty and quickly, the entire bottle was gone.
“I’m glad to finally see you awake and coherent.” Ryder told her and she merely grunted in response. Miles sat in the silence, chewing on the food in his mouth until Ryder offered some to Shelly, who, after a brief glance at Miles, took the proffered meat and began chewing. After a moment, she looked back at Ryder.
“Well? What did that bastard tell you?”
Ryder glanced at her briefly before speaking. “It’s complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it.” Miles demanded and Ryder suddenly appeared nervous, almost unwilling to speak. He looked away from the two of them, and Miles thought of how intimidating he had been previously. He sighed, closing his eyes tightly. “We just want to know.”
Finally, Ryder turned his eyes back to the pair as Shelly straightened, swallowing the food that had been given to her. “He explained Jackson and Bobby-Jean being husband and wife, Brian and Amber their children, and Kyle, Cassie, and Elliot, Amber’s children.” He paused, looking at Miles, who didn’t deny the statement. It was irrelevant, and in heart, true.
“We know what we are to each other.” Shelly said and Ryder shifted his gaze to her.
“You asked and I am telling.” He stated firmly. Shelly narrowed her eyes but snapped her mouth shut, complacent and thoroughly chastised for interrupting. Finally, he continued. “He said that Shelly was Brian’s significant other, George was a friend…like a cousin or brother, and that Rick actually was Brian and Amber’s cousin. He said that emotions ran high between you all.”
“How do you mean?” Miles asked and Ryder sighed. “Better yet, why would he tell you all of that? It’s useless information.”
The look he gave the two of them sent chills down Miles’s spine. “Is it?” he asked before offering more food to both Miles and Shelly. He then ran his empty hands over his bent knees. “Strengths and weaknesses.”
Shelly’s eyes widened angrily at this. “You can’t know…”
“Being wanted, needed is your weakness. Brian is your weakness. Your strength is your stubbornness.” Ryder stated quickly, and Miles felt Shelly shrink back into the wall. He swallowed thickly, unsure of whether or not he wanted to hear whatever other information the man had gathered. His eyes cut to Miles then. “Oddly enough for you, Amber is both a strength and a weakness for you. Failure is also both strength and a weakness for you. They are a double-edged sword, able to go one of two ways.” He glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping man on the floor, unmoving and in chains. “Family is his weakness, being wanted or needed is his strength;” he glanced at Shelly, a small smile on his face. “The opposite of yours.”
“But…” Shelly began but Ryder cut her off, sighing heavily.
“Everyone else doesn’t matter…or didn’t matter.”
“It didn’t matter?” Shelly asked hotly and he turned a sorrowful gaze to her, reaching up and offering her another bit of food. She hesitated, and then slowly, accepted, chewing on the rough, dry piece of meat.
“We got you, didn’t we? Mind games, simple as that. Once we knew what made you tick, we could take away your strengths and administer your weaknesses. We knew every move that you were going to make.” He replied, his tone harsher. Miles laughed heartily at this, receiving surprised looks from both Shelly and Ryder. He lowered his head, shaking it.
“You don’t know our strengths or weaknesses.” He stated simply, turning his brown eyes to Ryder, daring him to challenge his words. “That was why Lance and his group died.”
“Lance and his group died because they underestimated what your people were capable of.”
Miles sneered at him. “And you didn’t?”
“No I didn’t.” his voice firm in his resolve. He shifted on his feet and lowered his head. “Is it so hard to believe I am on your sid
e?” he asked and for a long moment, all was silent as they stared at one another. Shelly shifted in her seat, and Miles knew that her shoulders were aching from their confines.
“You know nothing about us.” Miles replied hastily and Shelly looked at him with wide eyes that told him otherwise. He furrowed his brow at her, curious and wondering what information they had on her. She appeared terrified at that moment and Miles didn’t like it one bit. He turned his focus back to Ryder. “And you are not on our side. I’m not sure why you are telling us all of this information, but it certainly isn’t to benefit us.”
Ryder narrowed his eyes at Miles’s harsh tone. “At least Amber was more cooperative when I talked to her.”
“Excuse me?” Miles lashed out, jerking his shoulders forward before remembering he was confined. “Who in the hell do you think you are?”
Ryder leveled his gaze at Miles, leaving no room for argument. “An ally.” And at this, Miles scoffed, unbelieving of him. Ryder sighed, finally, realizing that he was not getting on friendly terms with them then. “Fine. I’ll be back soon with more food for Brian and…others.” He stated, lifting the tray from Miles’s legs and standing, stretching his tense limbs. Miles envied him for the one little action but sat silently, staring holes into the man before he turned to leave. Miles opened his mouth to speak, to ask who the others were that he had mentioned. Once at the door however, he turned back to Miles and offered him a gentle grin. “I’m sorry about Kyle…especially after what happened with your own son.”
His words were like a slap to the face and his sincerity infuriating. He was revealing the fact that these strangers, the people he hated, knew him and everyone he cared about. He grimaced, clenching his sore jaw and he narrowed his eyes, feeling the sting of tears. “I never lost a son.”
He furrowed his brow in confusion. “But you lost your son.”
“The only son I lost was Kyle. Now, leave.” He demanded, feeling the tears come and slowly, Ryder nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him. Did they all think that his son had really died, just as Miles had believed it? Had Michael not told them who he was? Then again, the Michael that Miles knew had died. The questions raged through his entire being and he winced. It was all too much to comprehend. He closed his eyes then, leaning his head back against the wall and he could feel Shelly’s eyes on him. He felt uncomfortable under her gaze.
She finally cleared her throat. “Do you think they will be alright?” she asked and Miles inhaled sharply, feeling the pang in his chest deepen with her question. Would they be alright? Would the others survive? He hoped so, with every fiber of his being. His soul ached for them all, and at the betrayal of his son.
“I hope so.” He replied and Shelly turned from him to glance at Brian. Something was weighing heavily on her mind and so he sat silently, waiting for her to ask the one question he knew she was wanting to ask.
“Miles, why did you tell him you didn’t lose a son?” she finally asked solemnly. He straightened, turning his blurred vision to her. She studied him and he sighed, knowing he was going to have to do the inevitable.
“Because I didn’t.” he replied, though not harshly. Instead, he felt saddened, images from his dream reappearing, haunting him and he tried to shield himself from the emotional hit that carried with it.
“But, you said Michael…” she began, clearly confused, and maybe aching a little for him in sympathy. He grimaced, knowing that she wasn’t going to easily accept his next words.
“Michael helped put us in here.” He replied thickly, expecting an outburst, and yet as the tears fought to escape his eyes, he felt her rest her head once again against his shoulder. She nudged against him.
“I’m so sorry Miles.” were her simple words, and yet still he felt it hit him full force. Her earnestness filled him like rain after a drought. He lowered his chin and bit his bottom lip, breathing ragged, and he let the tears fall.
“I thought he was dead.” He choked out as Shelly leaned against him saying nothing, doing nothing but being the friend she was. “I thought he was dead but he was working with them.”
Shelly sighed then, contemplating her next words through tears of her own. “Maybe it isn’t as bad as you think…”
“He’s the one that knocked me unconscious.” He snapped and she sighed, defeated, because she knew there was no arguing the fact that he had put them in the hell that they were in. Of course, Miles still loved him and held some small hope that Michael didn’t understand what he was doing, or maybe he didn’t recognize Miles. He didn’t know, and figured that he would never know. “And now he has gone searching for Amber. He told me so himself. He may actually be dead by now.”
Shelly shuddered beside him. “At least they haven’t hurt any of us anymore. That Ryder guy keeps checking in every few hours…or he did before you woke up. He’s been gentle…”
Miles inhaled sharply, acutely aware of the truth in her words. “Yeah…I know.”
“This is all just a horrible nightmare.” She whimpered and he tilted his head to the side, once again resting his cheek against the crown of her head.
“No, it is very real.” He stated, both of them studying Brian’s sleeping form. “And we are going to get out of this, one way or another.” He said firmly, feeling resolve and determination with every syllable that flowed from his mouth. He heaved a heavy sigh, promising himself that he would make it out, that Shelly and Brian would make it out and hopefully they would find the others and escape it all. He closed his eyes, dwelling in his peaceful memories where he so wanted to be. They would make it out. They had to.
A sudden banging sounded, thudding, as if there was a struggle and both Shelly and Miles jumped, startled at the intrusion.
“Dammit! We may be prisoners but is it too much to ask for at least five minutes of peace and quiet!?” Miles shouted, hoping to get a rise out of their captors. Instead, the thudding continued, desperately, and the sound of glass shattering sounded hollow through the closed door.
Their eyes widened and Miles noted how Shelly’s fear immediately heightened. She jerked from him and turned to the side as she had before, feigning sleep. Miles, however, watched, heart pounding in his chest, as the door to the room opened, bathing them all in the orange light of the sunset. A cool blast of air hit him in the face and he grimaced against the assault on his senses. There were muffled screams, cries of a woman and every thought that was coursing through his mind stopped. His heart hesitated in beating and he felt sick, his stomach twisting and knotting. His mind screamed No! and he found that he couldn’t breathe. Justin and Cory came into the room, dragging two women with them as they struggled. Cory settled his captured woman down easily against the far wall while Justin threw his woman down in the middle of the room. She cried out, struggling against her bonds and as his eyesight adjusted he released the breath he had been holding. Relief washed over him like a warm cloak of welcome comfort. These two women were strangers, prisoners just as they were. They weren’t Amber or Cassie.
“Keep quiet, bitch.” Justin growled before rearing back and preparing to kick her. Cory shot him a cold glare and Justin hesitated his attempt. Absently, he shifted his jaw, and Miles caught this, a small smirk coming to play on the corners of his mouth. He was remembering Ryder’s words. Quickly, he turned. “Just get them set up. I’m getting some rest.” He said, reaching up and shoving a necklace into the inside of his shirt. The silver glint of a key caught Miles’s eye and he watched Justin leave, noting where the key to Brian’s chains was. Perfect.
He watched as Cory slowly reached forward, his hands slowly undoing the gag on the woman he had easily set down…or rather, girl. She couldn’t have been any more than fourteen years old and she was terrified as Cory approached her. She was trembling and the other woman that was lying on the ground kicked and struggled, screaming against her gag as Cory pulled his hands back from the young girl, gag in hand.
“I’m surprised you two are awake.” Cory said absently, s
hoving the gag in his pocket as he looked between the two sadly.
“Are you going to hurt us?” the young girl asked and Cory shifted on his feet, turning to stand. Slowly, he placed his hands on the underside of the other woman’s arms, rolling her to her back and pulling her, adjusting her just so, settling her next to the frightened teenager. Miles felt his heart ache at the look of loss on Cory’s face as he tried to find words of comfort while the two women looked at Brian’s battered form. He reached around to undo the other woman’s gag and her eyes narrowed, her knees bucking and kicking. Miles felt as if he needed to help, somehow.
He cleared his throat, catching the attention of all three of them. “This man won’t hurt you.” He said gently, and though the woman continued breathing heavily, her dark eyes wild beneath her dark hair, she calmed down, studying him and how he was just as confined as she was. Cory looked over at him, offering him a small grateful smile that only seemed to bring Miles further to the conclusion that Cory wasn’t a bad man, and neither was Ryder. Still, if they wanted to get out of there, they couldn’t do so with a screaming, irrational woman tagging along. Finally, she turned backed to Cory, and silently she allowed him to remove the gag from her mouth. Once she was free, she licked her lips, her eyes narrowed to slits. Cory then stood, shoving the second gag into his pocket.
“Is there anything you need right this moment? Water? Food? Restroom?” he asked and neither woman answered, they simply stared, one in fear and the other in anger. A few moments of silence passed before Cory nodded, turned, and spared a glance at Miles, and disappeared, closing the door behind him. With the door shut, Shelly straightened, looking at Miles as he leaned his head back once again to the wall, ignoring the looks that all three women were giving him. Those two women were none of his concern right then; his only priority was getting them all out of there and reaching the others, reaching Amber.
