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I smiled softly at him. “That means you’re sixteen years old. Old enough to drive a car.”
His brow raised. “A car?”
I laughed again and saw a small smile form on his lips—the first I had seen since being here. “That’s a whole other concept, and I am not positive you’ll even believe me.”
“Sixteen,” he muttered to himself. Something in me sparked, realizing I had helped him find the truth. Almost a memory, but not quite. It was the echo of a forgotten memory, reverberating in the deepest recesses of my mind as if trying to remind me who I used to be.
We were interrupted by a new sound reverberating around us. Metal on metal crunching in the air around us. Silas looked at me with wide eyes. “Put out the lantern.”
“What?” I asked, my hackles rising and dread forming in my stomach.
“The light; we have to put out the light,” he explained and stood, running toward me. He grabbed at the lantern, finding the switch and turning it off. Darkness fell around us, and my anxiety rose. I felt his hand grab mine, and he pulled me up. “Come with me. It’s farther; it’ll take him more time to get to us.”
I didn’t fight, trusting his instructions. Silas had survived down here for a decade. I didn’t know what was in store, but I knew it couldn’t be good. He pulled me down onto his makeshift bed, and I sat by his side. The sound of metal scraping grew louder, and then boots—heavy boots walking into our dungeon.
“Silas?” I asked. I wasn’t sure what my question was, but I needed to hear his voice—to know he was real.
“Don’t fight him, okay?” he muttered. “It’s easier if you don’t fight.”
The steps were closer, but stopped. A breath passed before metal scraped again, and I saw a flash of light—just a sliver as the door opened, our only path to freedom. It was gone as soon as it arrived. The steps, no longer loud but still audible, started toward us, bounding down the stairs and into the dirt one after another.
I couldn’t see anything, my eyes not adjusted, but based on the intake of breath from Silas next to me, he could see him: Father. I could sense his presence as he walked closer, and closer, and closer to us. He was a breath away now, but didn’t speak. I couldn’t even hear his breaths, but I knew if I reached out my hand I would feel him.
I gripped Silas’s hand tightly and awaited whatever came next. In a blind blink, Silas was pulled away from me, and the poor boy didn’t fight. But I wouldn’t let him go.
“No!” I yelled, pulling at the hand I hadn’t let go of and standing.
“Goldie,” Silas protested, but I wouldn’t let whatever was about to happen… happen to him. No matter what it was.
I blindly pulled at Silas and felt the moment our captor let him go as the resistance vanished. I did my best to position myself between Silas and Father. It was silent for a moment, and my chest heaved in anticipation. I still couldn’t see a thing, but could feel Silas shaking like a leaf behind me.
Suddenly, a gloved hand grasped my forearm and started pulling me with him. I finally let Silas go, feeling his hand drop from my grasp. I was pulled to my captor’s side, and I felt him for the first time. He was taller than me, and strong, too. He smelled… like gasoline and antiseptic: a confusing combination that made me wrinkle my nose from the stench.
He pulled me away from Silas, and I heard one final plea from him before my captor pulled me out of the room. “Don’t fight, Goldie. Please.”
I swallowed and was blindly led through the hall and toward one of the rooms. I wasn’t familiar enough with this dungeon to know where we were in the dark, but when the rush of the faucet sounded, I knew we were in the cleaning room—what was truly a shower room.
I swallowed as the captor let me go. I could hear rustling and him moving around me, but was still blinded in the dark.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked, mustering as much strength as I could.
He didn’t answer, but I didn’t let that deter me.
“Who are you?”
No answer, but the sound of a belt.
“Why am I here?”
Nothing. He was silent, but I felt him at my back. He took my wrists in his hand, and I felt a belt wrap around them and tighten as they bound me in place. I winced from the pain as he tied the belt, pinching my skin and pulling my arms into an uncomfortable angle.
Suddenly, a gloved hand found my face, a thumb caressing my cheek. I did my best not to cringe away, but everything in me wanted to run. My fight-or-flight response reared its head, and I did my best to ignore either instinct.
“Silas!” I yelled, and prayed he listened to me. “Cover your ears, and do not come in here!”
I could have sworn I heard a chuckle, and suddenly the hand holding my head lost its tender touch and slammed me into the concrete wall. And gone was the world again.
Lexington