Page 103
Story: Hearing Red
The girl opened her mouth to say something, although her eyes were still glued to Saff, watching her with a captivated gaze. But before she could speak, they pulled Saff further into the house. Then they turned, and she saw a stairway leading down underground.
They pushed her forward, and she caught herself on the railing of the stairs.
“Go,” the man on her left said gruffly.
She descended the dark staircase with them both following closely behind. The bottom stairs opened into a large dimly lit basement, with half of it converted into metal prison cells.
This time, it was the woman on her right who shoved her forward toward one of the cells. She stumbled towards it, knocking into the closed cell door. A moment later, the man reached forward and pulled it open.
“In,” he said.
She slowly stepped into the cell, although every fiber of her being screamed that she shouldn't.
For a second, she wondered if this was the right time to pull out the knife she'd been hiding. But as quickly as the thought entered her mind, it evaporated.
Trying to fight them now would be a stupid decision. If it did indeed come to that, she’d need a better plan.
“Turn around,” he muttered. “Let me see your hands.”
She slowly turned and held her hands out in front of her.
He pulled a small pair of wire cutters from his pocket and cut the zip tie around her wrists. They broke apart, the skin instantly aching in relief.
She rubbed the tender area where the edge of the plastic had sliced into the flesh.
The man stepped back, then slammed the cell door closed with so much force it shook the bars around her.
And without another word, they both turned and left the way they’d come.
Saff scanned her surroundings.
Two small lights hung from the walls, casting a dingy yellow glow across the room. And besides the two cells, there was nothing else in the basement.
She turned around, eyes falling to a small bucket sitting in one corner, with a bare cot beside it.
That was a plus. At least she would have somewhere to rest for the night, and she could definitely use it. After not sleeping at all the night before and traveling the entire day, not to mention the stress of the last thirty minutes, she could definitely use some rest.
Adrenaline coursed through her body, and mentally she felt wide awake and alert. But physically, it was a different story. Every muscle in her body ached. A headache had begun in her forehead, slowly spreading through the rest of her skull.
She needed to lie down—to close her eyes.
She trudged to the cot, sitting down on the edge. The mattress was uncomfortably stiff, not like the level of comfort she was used to at the bunker, but it was better than sleeping on the concrete ground.
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and closed her eyes, bowing her head down in front of her as she worked her fingers into her temples.
It didn’t do any good.
She knew what she really needed, what would actually give her some relief. But unfortunately, Maddie wasn't there. And she was annoyed with herself that she'd become so reliant on another person to help with the pain.
She leaned her head back, pulling her feet one by one up onto the cot, and stared up at the wooden ceiling for a moment before letting her heavy eyes shut.
Under any other circumstance, she probably wouldn't feel at ease enough to try to sleep after what had just happened. But for some reason, she wasn't that worried about any immediate danger.
She didn’t trust anyone else, but she did trust Maddie. And if Maddie trusted the people there, then she would, too, at least for now.
Although, even with that trust, she still needed to be smart. She needed a gameplan.
She began running through what she had seen in that building and the one they'd questioned her in. She also ran through what she remembered from walking between the buildings: a rough count of how many steps she had taken, noises she had heard, people talking, machinery.
They pushed her forward, and she caught herself on the railing of the stairs.
“Go,” the man on her left said gruffly.
She descended the dark staircase with them both following closely behind. The bottom stairs opened into a large dimly lit basement, with half of it converted into metal prison cells.
This time, it was the woman on her right who shoved her forward toward one of the cells. She stumbled towards it, knocking into the closed cell door. A moment later, the man reached forward and pulled it open.
“In,” he said.
She slowly stepped into the cell, although every fiber of her being screamed that she shouldn't.
For a second, she wondered if this was the right time to pull out the knife she'd been hiding. But as quickly as the thought entered her mind, it evaporated.
Trying to fight them now would be a stupid decision. If it did indeed come to that, she’d need a better plan.
“Turn around,” he muttered. “Let me see your hands.”
She slowly turned and held her hands out in front of her.
He pulled a small pair of wire cutters from his pocket and cut the zip tie around her wrists. They broke apart, the skin instantly aching in relief.
She rubbed the tender area where the edge of the plastic had sliced into the flesh.
The man stepped back, then slammed the cell door closed with so much force it shook the bars around her.
And without another word, they both turned and left the way they’d come.
Saff scanned her surroundings.
Two small lights hung from the walls, casting a dingy yellow glow across the room. And besides the two cells, there was nothing else in the basement.
She turned around, eyes falling to a small bucket sitting in one corner, with a bare cot beside it.
That was a plus. At least she would have somewhere to rest for the night, and she could definitely use it. After not sleeping at all the night before and traveling the entire day, not to mention the stress of the last thirty minutes, she could definitely use some rest.
Adrenaline coursed through her body, and mentally she felt wide awake and alert. But physically, it was a different story. Every muscle in her body ached. A headache had begun in her forehead, slowly spreading through the rest of her skull.
She needed to lie down—to close her eyes.
She trudged to the cot, sitting down on the edge. The mattress was uncomfortably stiff, not like the level of comfort she was used to at the bunker, but it was better than sleeping on the concrete ground.
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and closed her eyes, bowing her head down in front of her as she worked her fingers into her temples.
It didn’t do any good.
She knew what she really needed, what would actually give her some relief. But unfortunately, Maddie wasn't there. And she was annoyed with herself that she'd become so reliant on another person to help with the pain.
She leaned her head back, pulling her feet one by one up onto the cot, and stared up at the wooden ceiling for a moment before letting her heavy eyes shut.
Under any other circumstance, she probably wouldn't feel at ease enough to try to sleep after what had just happened. But for some reason, she wasn't that worried about any immediate danger.
She didn’t trust anyone else, but she did trust Maddie. And if Maddie trusted the people there, then she would, too, at least for now.
Although, even with that trust, she still needed to be smart. She needed a gameplan.
She began running through what she had seen in that building and the one they'd questioned her in. She also ran through what she remembered from walking between the buildings: a rough count of how many steps she had taken, noises she had heard, people talking, machinery.
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