by Penelope Sky
Still, nothing.
I was hungry, but I wanted to enjoy every single sip of that hot cocoa before it went cold. I sat there and enjoyed it. He was probably staring at the side of my face, but since his eyes were hidden, I had no idea. But I could feel it…feel that piercing stare.
“Magnus.”
I stilled at the way his deep voice cut through the silence, the way it commanded my attention so effortlessly. He had a powerful presence, so it made me wonder if he was higher on the food chain than everyone else here.
He abruptly rose from the chair and moved to the door.
“I want my sister…please.”
He stilled on the doorstep, the door cracked so the cold air entered the cabin. “That’s not going to happen.”
“I’ll do anything. I’ll scrub toilets. I’ll do laundry. Whatever you want. But please, just let us stay in the same cabin.”
“That’s not up to me—”
“I don’t believe you.”
He continued to glance outside, like he didn’t want to see the pained look on my face that matched my voice.
“Please…I know you aren’t like the others.”
Silence passed as he looked out into the cold. “You couldn’t be more wrong about that.”
8
Magnus
Three days were spent digging in the snow.
My legs were so sore, I could barely walk.
Magnus must have known how tired I was because he continued to bring me extra things, like a mug of hot chocolate, a couple cookies, and even a notebook with a pen…as if he knew I liked to write.
When those shoveling days were over, I was actually relieved to get back to normalcy, back to the boring job in the clearing.
I didn’t look at the woman hanging from the noose. It was different now, because I knew what she’d looked like when she was alive. There was no snow beneath her because it had been shoveled away. A wooden cross had been placed there, like one of her friends had done something to pay homage to her life.
But I never looked directly at her.
I would never get used to the executions, regardless of what Bethany said.
Even if years passed, my feelings would never change.
Somehow, I’d escape from there and tell the police everything. I’d watch the murderer’s trial, and then his imprisonment after he was convicted. I’d make him pay for what he did to the poor women who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Bethany ate across from me. “That was your sister?”
I nodded.
“You’re the first pair to be brought here…that I know of.”
I didn’t mention the story, because it made my sister look bad. Right now, we needed to survive, and having as many allies as possible was the way to accomplish that. “Yeah.”
“She’s taking it pretty hard. Cindy is with her in the cabin, says it’s been rough.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry. That must be difficult. That’s one thing I’m grateful for…being in here alone.”
“Who did you leave behind?” I whispered.
She was quiet for a while, shoveling the food into her mouth with her eyes down. “My daughter.”
My eyes fell when I heard those words. “I’m sorry…”
“I’m sure she’s with her grandmother, but…” Emotion caught in her throat, and she stopped talking.
A guard passed, and we kept our eyes on our food.
“I’m going to get out of here. And then I’m going to burn this place to the ground.”
“It’s fun to fantasize…”
“No. I’m going to do it.” I pulled the piece of metal from the snow out of my pocket and opened my palm so she could see it. It was a thin shard of metal, having broken off from the hinge of the busted crate. I returned it to my pocket.
She stilled for a second before she continued to eat. “What are you going to do with that?”
It was too small to be used as a weapon. It was too small to fight off wolves in the wild. But it could do one thing. “Magnus gave me a pen—”
“He told you his name?”
“Yes. Do they not do that?”
She shook her head.
I continued. “I think I can use both to pick the lock to my cabin.”
She stopped to stare at me, so surprised that she didn’t express her interest or disdain. “Then what? You’ll never make it out there alone, in the dark… And who knows if you really heard that bell. It was in the middle of a storm, so the sound could have carried from anywhere. You might not even have the right direction.”
The wind could have been blowing from several directions, so wherever its origin, it might be so far away that I had no chance of making it there at all, and I might be going in the opposite direction of the sound. But I held on to the fact that I’d heard it, that it was somewhere out there. “I’m going to explore the camp and see if I can steal some equipment. Maybe a map, a gun, some food and water to survive, flares if they have them…”
Bethany was still in shock.
“Just do some prep work before I run for it. I still have to get my sister too…”
“If you can make this work, you’ll have to leave her behind.”
“Why?”
“Because not everyone in that cabin is loyal to your cause. They could snitch.”
That disgusted me. “Even if that means they could be liberated?”
She nodded. “You’ll have to leave her, and if you make it…come back for her.”
I couldn’t leave my sister behind. We left together—we survived together.
“But I think it’s a bad idea, because you’ll probably get caught.”
“Do they have guards out at night?”
“I have no idea, but I would assume so. If you get caught, you’ll be the next victim of the Red Snow.”
I suddenly lost my appetite.
“And if that happens, what will your sister do then?”
I didn’t want my sister to see my lifeless body hanging there for a week. I didn’t want her to live with the memory of my murder. “I know, but I have to try. Because if I don’t try, then every woman will die here. They have drugs drop out of planes in the fucking sky. They know what they’re doing, and they’re never going to get caught by law enforcement or intelligence agencies. No one is coming for us, Bethany.”
She dropped her gaze.
“We’ll be filed as missing persons, and the police will assume we’ve been trafficked…which is brilliant. They’re completely on the wrong track. These guys did that on purpose. They have women working in the camp because men are strong enough to fight back. You know what? We’re strong enough to fight back—and I will.”
She pushed her food around with her plastic fork, giving a slight nod. “For all our sakes, I hope you’re right. I hope you can do this. I hope you can give us the freedom we all deserve.”
“I will, Bethany… I fucking will.”
After dinner was brought, I waited.
I didn’t go to sleep, even though I would be exhausted the next morning.
I clicked the pen Magnus gave me, my thumb pressing into the pad at the top and making the tip emerge. Then I hit it again. Again. The click filled my dark cabin, my eyes on the ceiling, my heart racing because of my late-night plans.
I didn’t have a clock, so I had no idea what time it was. I didn’t even have a window, so I had no way of gauging life outside my door. All I had was my hearing, but my skills could only span to the front door and the patio right outside my cabin.
I was too anxious to continue waiting, so I got out of bed and pulled on my boots. My jacket was secured. Then I stuffed a towel into the crack of the door so I could turn on the light and dismantle the pen.
Piece by piece, I took it apart, until I got to the slender rod that I could use in the door. I left the remains tucked under my sheets before I pulled out the metal shard I’d picked up when the drugs fell from the sky.
I’d never done anything like this before.
But I’d seen it in movies, and there must be some truth to it.
I stuck the pieces into the small slit in the door and tried to feel around, sticking the shard inside to imitate the placement of a key, and then I used the pen to slowly turn the knob. Every time I tried, I could barely turn the knob an inch before it slipped.
“Ugh…”
I kept going, doing the same thing over and over, not giving up even though this seemed impossible. I didn’t have the right tools like those guys in the movies. I wasn’t some mastermind. I cursed under my breath then stepped back, pissed off that a stupid door would be my undoing.
I turned back to my bed to get under the sheets.
Instead, I stopped and stared at the book on my nightstand.
The Count of Monte Cristo.
He didn’t give up. He planned his escape for years. He got out, returned with revenge, and made everyone pay.
I had to do the same.
I turned back and kept at it.
It took me thirty minutes, my hands got slippery and sweaty, so I had to remove my jacket, but I got it.
I fucking got it.
The doorknob went slack, turning with a twist of my wrist.
I stood back and stared in surprise. “Yes.” I put my jacket back on, turned off the light, and pulled the towel from underneath the door. Now my heart was racing so fast, I could barely hear anything. The pounding blood masked everything around me. I was so terrified I almost didn’t want to leave this cabin.
I was in Plato’s fucking cave.
Far more afraid of potential freedom than sterile captivity.
I took a deep breath, tried my best to control my racing heart, and then cracked the door.
It was dark.
There were some lights around the camp, but very few, and the walkways were mostly hidden in darkness. I stood there and listened, waited for the sound of boots against snow, waited for a guard to pass.
But nothing happened.
If all the prisoners were locked in cabins with no windows, how would they escape? Maybe having a nighttime patrol was pointless, especially when fleeing in the dark wouldn’t get you far.
I needed a flashlight.
I stepped out of the cabin and onto the wooden patio. The door shut quietly behind me, barely making a click when it returned to the doorframe. My eyes scanned left and right, only able to visualize the cabin in my mind because of the gentle lights sparsely spread out. I’d taken the walk to the clearing enough times to remember the way, and since we shoveled all the snow days ago, I shouldn’t trip on anything.
I took the stairs and felt my boots hit the earth.
This was really happening.
I walked slowly, trying to feel the earth in front of me before I took a step, to make sure there wasn’t an obstruction that would make me fall and break my nose, or worse, knock me out so they would find me in the morning.
Even if I wanted to escape that very moment, I couldn’t. I’d walk out into the pitch-dark wilderness and just get lost. I wouldn’t survive more than a few hours. I needed tools to survive, weapons, water, food…light.
I wasn’t enough.
I moved farther into the camp, passing the cabins that I knew were there. There was a slight breeze, a gentle rustling of the branches in the tall pines that stood over me like wild skyscrapers. My warm breath escaped my mouth then came back and sprinkled across my face like I stood in front of a humidifier.
Even if I’d had a flashlight, I wouldn’t use it. It was so dark here that any light would be a beacon. It made me believe there were no guards on duty—because they couldn’t see anything.
I made it to the clearing. I could tell because the most lights were in this area, because boxes of drugs were still on the tables. I made sure to avoid that direction, because they cared more about their products than a girl escaping, so they might have eyes on that section.
I went around a cabin then moved past it, eventually reaching the larger building I’d noticed when we were shoveling snow. I stilled because the windows were lit up from lights inside the structure.
There were guards in there.
And if that was where the guards were…that meant there were supplies.
My heart had slowed down once I got used to the suffocating darkness, once I realized I was truly alone in the camp. But now that I detected signs of life, it started to pound once again.
I stared for a while, waiting to see someone walk past the windows.
Nothing happened.
I wanted to walk away and explore the rest of the camp, but I knew that building was the most likely location of the things I needed. Even if I could just get my hand on a gun and ammunition, that would really level the playing field.
I moved toward the bigger cabin and hit something.
My knee banged into the wooden rail that outlined the steps.
I shut my mouth and suppressed my groan, keeping silent even though that was so hard to do. Once I breathed through the pain, I made my way up, gripping the rail and keeping my footfalls silent. I reached the top and flattened against the wall, doing my best to listen.
Voices were audible, but I couldn’t make out any words.
I slid closer to the window, standing right outside it, trying to hear exactly what they were saying. They could share information that would help me figure out where I was, if anyone passed through the area, if there was an obvious escape route that we weren’t aware of.
But the windows were too insulated, and I couldn’t translate anything. I heard several different voices, like there were quite a few guards together. What were they doing at this hour? Whatever hour it was…
I slowly moved closer and closer, facing the window, letting one eye move over the glass so I could see inside. I needed to know what was inside, to find out if the contents were worth breaking in at a later time.
Five guards were gathered around a round table. A lamp hung directly down from the ceiling, showing the cards on the table, the poker chips, the pile of euros in the center. They were in their long-sleeved black coats, but their cloaks were gone.
I saw their faces.
One guy had a thick, black beard. He was muscular and large, and I was pretty certain he was the guard who’d punched me in the face on my first day in the camp. Another guy was bald with a mustache. Every single one of them was muscular, not a scrawny guy in the mix. They couldn’t be weak to do a job like this, physically or mentally. The guy directly facing me stared at the cards in his hand, his eyes down, his look impassive because he had a good poker face.
He had brown eyes, warm like the hot cocoa I’d had in my cabin, and he had fair skin with a hint of an olive tone, like he was French but also Italian. His broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his uniform, and while he was tall like the other men, he wasn’t bulky. He was still for another moment before he laid his cards on the table.
“Motherfucker.” The bald guy threw his cards down and took a drink from his beer.
The rest of the guys growled in protest and threw down their cards too.
The corner of his mouth rose in a slight smile, and then he pulled all the chips toward him, smug but also humble, because he didn’t say a single word about his victory. He grabbed his beer, and when he lifted it to take a drink, his eyes moved to mine.
“Shit…” I ducked down instantly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I started to shiver in fear, because there was no doubt that he saw me. He paused his movements because he saw something in the frosty glass.
I was so scared that I couldn’t move.
But I didn’t hear any movement inside the cabin, footsteps heading to the door, loud conversations that led to shouts.
I didn’t stick around to find out what happened.
I crawled under the windows and moved around the patio, careful over the floorboards, and maneuvered toward the back of the building, which was close to the forest. I could hide out there until they stoppe
d searching for me. They probably didn’t get a good enough look at my face to identify me. I just had to get to my cabin before they did.
I rounded the corner and made my way to the stairs in the rear. With my hand on the rail, I slowly crept to the bottom, my feet hitting the little mounds of snow that hadn’t melted yet.
A hand grabbed me.
I was yanked up against the rise of the platform, my back hitting the wooden material that obscured me from view of the patio. It was dark so I couldn’t see his face in the commotion, but now the light from the cabin above struck him perfectly, highlighting his face enough to make out his features.
It was the guard who’d spotted me.
He got out here fast—without making a sound.
I breathed hard in his face, paralyzed by my capture, so terrified that I couldn’t move. But I found my strength and yanked my arm back to punch him in the face, to break free so I could run into the woods.
He overpowered me easily, like I was a child. His hands locked my arms in place, keeping me pressed down so tightly the only movement I could make was the steady rise and fall of my chest through my breathing. “What the fuck are you doing?” His deep voice was hushed in a whisper, but his anger was so potent that it felt like he was yelling, screaming at the top of his lungs. “Do you know what they’ll do to you if they find you out here? You’ll be the next victim of the Red Snow. Do you understand me?” He squeezed my arms hard, gripping me so tightly there would be two bruises there tomorrow. He pulled me then pushed me back into the wood, trying to strike some sense into me.
The threat instantly passed at the revelation. “Magnus?”
His nostrils made a steady line of vapor because he was breathing hard, full of rage. “You think you’d be alive if I were anyone else?” His brown hair was short but full, a little messy because it was the end of a long day in the cold. His jawline was sharp like glass, sharper than I noticed in the quick glances into his hood. The shadow across the bottom part of his mouth was gone, like he had shaved sometime after he delivered my dinner. The look in his eyes wasn’t calm and knowing like it had been when he played poker with the guys. Now his eyes were wide—and on fire.
