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Thirty-One

The Mine

Refusing to give up the fight to survive, Olivia washed her face and hands and dried them on her tattered dress.

Convinced that their captor had a day job close by, going on the almost regular times he dropped by to bring them food and bottled water, he wouldn’t be back soon.

So far, he’d check on them at least twice a day, and each visit had been harrowing.

He enjoyed intimidating them and taunting them.

One time he sat at the desk in the vestibule and ate a burger and fries knowing they were starving.

Sometimes he spent his time choosing which one of them to give all his disgusting attention to.

It was as if he enjoyed making the others witness her humiliation and then he’d put her back in her cell and leave.

She’d hoped that was the end of it, but it never was.

He was a creature of habit and would return to spirit away his brutalized captive at night—never to return.

It surprised her that he’d allowed her to keep the pendant hanging around her neck.

He hadn’t checked it. Inside held a watch—it had been a gift from her grandma for her sixteenth birthday—and she could gauge when he’d return.

She could almost set her watch to the time he came and went.

If he dropped by early in the morning, it was before five and he stayed for only a very short while to give them water and military supplies before dashing out.

This meant he worked for a boss and was expected to arrive at a certain time each day.

She assumed they were still in Black Rock Falls because it was miles to the next town.

As their journey had been in the dark, she hadn’t seen any landmarks, but they hadn’t gone up the mountain.

She believed they’d headed into the lowlands and she tried to recall any places where there were mines.

The only old mineshafts she could recall were out of town on the south side of the industrial area between Black Rock Falls and Blackwater.

She remembered a lesson at school about mining in the area, and many years ago some of the old mines produced millions of dollars in gold.

Being locked in a small cell for so long, boredom had made her examine her surroundings closely.

She understood how the cell had been made.

It was very old, and from the marks on the walls, the cell had been hewn out of solid rock using hand tools.

She recalled that the miners a century ago had made the cells to store their tools.

They’d probably kept their gold locked up in one of the cells as well.

When she’d arrived, she’d noticed the tunnels went away in different directions, but this one went only to the small vestibule with the office area, shower, and cells.

The entrance had two strong metal gates, so it made sense that he was keeping them in part of an ancient gold mine.

She recalled that at some time in Black Rock Falls history a mineshaft with similar cells had been used as a makeshift prison during the gold rush.

Olivia blew out a long sigh. Knowing their location wouldn’t help them unless she could escape and that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

The monster would be back in the next few minutes and she wondered if it would be her turn to suffer the humiliation and abuse before being dragged off in the darkness to an unknown future.

The isolation was getting to her, and her imagination was taking control, feeding her mind with unspeakable images.

Trying hard to keep it together, she sat on the mattress and leaned against the damp wall, not caring if the cold seeped through her thin dress.

Nothing she could do would stop the monster.

She’d tried to talk to Chloe but her friend had been hysterical all day.

This morning, the monster had stood staring at her through the bars of her cell for a long time before he left as if he was considering what terrible things to do to her.

The sounds of vomiting in between sobbing in terror had echoed through the caves all day and nothing Olivia could say would get her to talk to her.

The footsteps came slow and deliberate as usual, but this time the monster whistled an old country tune.

He must be in a good mood tonight. Olivia stood and went to peer through the bars and the strong smell of takeout wafted toward her.

Her stomach rumbled at the aroma, but if he planned to torment them by eating in front of them again, she’d ignore him.

Hunger gnawed at her belly and right now she’d be happy with the Army rations.

They were way past their best-by date and disgusting, but it was better than starving to death.

She blinked as he came into view. He looked different tonight.

Instead of the coveralls, he’d chosen a dark blue hoodie with matching sweatpants.

The balaclava was different too. She could see his thin lips through an opening over the mouth and noticed when he smiled at her that one of his front teeth was crooked.

Her stomach dropped. Why is he smiling at me?