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There were no windows. No light except the one that lit the enclosure where the dragonflies were kept. It was on during the day and dimmed at night. He’d explored his prison many times. There was only the single door that had always beenlocked.
His hands shook so badly it took him two times to punch in the key code correctly. The garage was between the shed and the small house. He’d been in the home once when Anis Tera had rescued him from the flooding. He’d fetched a blanket and gave Logan an ice-cream bar. The man had pretended to call his parents and then asked Logan if he wanted to see somethingbeautiful.
That’s when he’d taken him to the shed, where Logan had been kept eversince.
When the green light flashed on the keypad, his hand closed around the knob. Fear trickled down his spine, despite the man’s words on the phone. When his parents were training Sadie, Logan’s dog, she’d worn a collar that had shocked her whenever she got too close to the edge of their yard. Later, she hadn’t needed a collar. She still couldn’t be lured out off of the property, not even with her favoritetreat.
Logan didn’t have a collar, but he felt like Sadie now. Too scared to go outside histerritory.
Finally, his stiff fingers turned the knob. He was panting as if he’d run a race as he slowly pushed the door open. More darkness met him. He squinted into the shadows. There would be a light switch somewhere. He tried to remember from the one time he’d been here. Like a dumb kid, he’d just been happy with his ice cream, thinking that his parents would be coming to pick him up soon. He hadn’t known then that the ordinary-looking man who’d been kind enough to save him from drowning was really amonster.
Logan made his way across the interior of the garage, hands out in front of him like a blind person until he reached the opposite side. He felt along the wall for the door to the house. And then searched beside it. There. With a feeling of triumph, he flipped the switch, and dim light split thedarkness.
The sight of the small freezer sitting on the other side of the door had him salivating. He rushed over to it and opened the lid. His stomach growled in hunger at the sight of the packaged food inside. No ice cream, but there were sandwiches sitting on the top in a Ziploc bag. He took it out and rummaged around inside for more. Most of the contents were packaged meat. Hamburger and pork chops and chicken. Logan felt a little queasy thinking about having to unthaw some of it and eat it raw, but he would if he hadto.
For now, he took the sandwiches and closed the lid. Then he scanned the rest of the interior. His dad’s garage was messy, with tools and overflowing shelves everywhere. If Logan had a tool, he could find a way out of the garage. Or into the house, and out a window or doorthere.
But the garage was tidy. There wasn’t a workbench with a pegboard hanging above it. There were no shelves, stuffed to overflowing. A small TV hung on the wall with a DVR player beneath it on a small table. Logan’s uncle had a big-screen TV in his garage, with chairs and a sofa just like a room in the house. He called it his mancave.
If this was the stranger’s man cave, it was prettypathetic.
He went to check out the row of tall metal cupboards with double doors along one wall. Logan crossed to them and yanked on the doors, but they werelocked.
Then he turned his attention to the door that led to the house. That, too, was secured. A little desperate, he went to examine the double garage doors. Not automatic like the ones that went up at the touch of a button at his house. They were wooden doors that swung outward with a big wooden bar on the outside to keep them locked. He remembered seeing it when the man had first brought himhere.
Logan set down the sandwiches and pushed against the doors. They didn’t move. He backed up a few feet, then ran up and rammed them with his shoulder. Pain sang throughhim.
It dawned on him then. He’d been allowed out of his prison, into a jail of anothersort.
Tears welled in his eyes, and he bent to pick up the bag of sandwiches before trudging over to turn off the light. The man taught him prayers and made him repeat them regularly. He would never know that Logan prayed every night that somehow he’d get out of thisplace.
His hand on the light switch, he hesitated and looked at the TV again. Maybe the man watched movies out here. But there were no chairs or a couch like there would be in the house. He didn’t know why anyone would watch a movie when they couldn’t sitdown.
He crept closer to the TV. Logan hadn’t seen a movie in…however long he’d been here. He wouldn’t even care if the man only had old ones. And maybe the TV worked alone. Maybe Logan could actually see some cartoons or shows on it before the man camehome.
The thought of getting caught doing so made his stomach hurt. But the temptation was too great to ignore. He went closer and picked up the remote. Turned the TV on. It showed nothing but static, no matter the channel. He should haveknown.
But when he checked the DVD player, there was a DVD inside. Without much hope, he spent a few minutes figuring out how to make the thing work. He clicked through the TV channels until he found the one that showed themovie.
He grimaced. It looked like a horror movie. Logan’s big brother, Kevin always called him a baby, but he didn’t like to watch scary films. They gave himnightmares.
And this…he backed away. Something was wrong with this movie. A man had a plastic bag over his head, taped around his throat. He was sitting in some kind of chair and couldn’t move. The guy was sucking in air in the bag until the plastic was plastered against his mouth. Logan watched in horrified fascination until the man stoppedbreathing.
After a few minutes, there was a pause in the film. Then moments later, the movie flickered to life again. Only this time there was a different man sitting in the same chair. The clear bag was over his head, and his eyes bugged out as he tried to getair.
Logan finally realized the truth. These weren’t movies. And the men weren’t actors. The guys on the disc were really dead. Someone had put the bags over their heads. Someone had watched themdie.
And Logan already knew who had filmed their deaths. Anis Tera. The same man who had rescued him from the flooded stream and then locked him up in the shed. The one who’d almost let him starve todeath.
He was backing away from the TV now. So fast that he tripped over his feet and landed on his butt. When the man on the screen slumped forward, his eyes wide and staring inside the clear bag, Logan opened his mouth and began toscream.