Instead, she’d fallen into her default mode. She’d given her boss obedience and respect, as if that could win him over.
And he’d left her here alone, in a freezer just cold enough to be terribly uncomfortable, with no blankets or food and no way to communicate.
Nobody knows I’m here.
NOBODY KNOWS I’M HERE!
She screamed, knowing the freezer’s thick walls probably blocked her voice from exiting. Even if some sound got through, there wasn’t a soul within earshot.
The sensation overtaking her was one she hadn’t felt since the early years after the Skytrain accident. It was like some sadist had planted a line of stones inside her, sharp and heavy, beginning at her esophagus and ending in her intestines. She hugged her stomach with her arms, still crying, surprised her tears could make it past the solid fear inhabiting her throat.
You have power over this.
The thought pressed its way through her tears. It was a statement her favorite therapist had made, a mantra he’d insisted Ellin repeat to herself every time panic gripped her.
She couldn’t stop the fear entirely; she knew that. What she could do was breathe. So she did, beginning the process of converting her sobs into deep breaths. In. Out. Repeat.
In an effort to calm herself, she closed her eyes and pictured Trett. She tried to think about him smiling, but instead all she could see was the confused, pained expression he’d worn when she broke up with him. That made her heart beat at an even more frenzied pace, so she replaced Trett’s face with Rona’s. The image of her stoic sister comforted her just enough to stop her tears, though she still couldn’t seem to draw enough air into her lungs.
This panic isn’t going to kill me.
That was another truth she’d learned. She whispered it to herself, then examined the panic, acknowledging its grip on her airway and heart. The pressure began to let up.
She repeated the phrase, out loud this time. “This panic isn’t going to kill me.” The irony of it slapped her in the face: But Merak might. A chuckle escaped her mouth. Laughter was completely irrational, but it sure beat crying.
The anxiety still had her in its grip, but now she was calm enough to partner it with logic. I can’t just sit here. If I want to escape from Merak, I have to act, even though I’m afraid.
So she stood, drying her cheeks with her palms. She paced and planned, drinking from the water pouch, allowing her panic to subside one breath at a time. Just as she swallowed the last of the water, she realized what a mistake she’d made. She had to pee. And she was trapped in a metal cube.
Ellin sat. She could hold it until Merak came back tomorrow. Maybe he’d let her go behind the building. It would be the perfect opportunity to escape.
She’d been sitting in the back corner for perhaps an hour, huddled against the chill and trying to ignore her screaming bladder, when she came to the conclusion that she couldn’t wait to pee.
This is just a problem to be solved, nothing more.
She didn’t exactly have a lot of experience relieving herself outside of a bathroom. The last time she’d done it, she was four years old. She’d decided to water her mother’s flowerbed. Pants around her ankles, she squatted, but her balance wasn’t the best, and somehow she got more pee on her pants and shoes than on the flowers. Since then, toilets had always been sufficient for her needs.
While she probably had better balance now, she wasn’t about to risk the same results, especially without any extra clothes. Pants and shoes off, then.
She pulled off her shoes and socks. When the soles of her feet contacted the cold metal floor, her entire body released a shiver. She ignored it and took off her pants and underwear.
Then she started crying again. How had she gotten to this point—standing half-naked in a cold, dimly-lit freezer? It didn’t matter that there was no one to see her; she could see herself—the goosebumps on her legs, her bare thighs squeezing together to prevent an accident, her trembling knees.
Her weeping increased her urge to empty her bladder, and she darted to the front corner of the chamber, where it was a little more shadowy. It was a silly concession to modesty; there was no hiding in this place if Merak returned.
Ellin squatted against the corner, the metal walls shockingly cold against her bare butt. Her whole body shook with sobs as she released the muscles in her aching pelvis and felt the relief she’d been waiting for.
The floor of the freezer, it turned out, wasn’t quite flat. Pale yellow liquid streamed toward her left foot. She scooted her foot out of the way but immediately lost her balance, landing in the puddle of warm urine that was still growing wider.
Her cries turned into wails. She continued to sit, wiping her running nose with the back of her hand, until her bladder was finally empty. Then she stood and screamed every curse word she could think of as she rubbed her wet butt against the cold wall, trying to dry it off, aware of how absurd the action was.
Ellin’s humiliation turned to fury, and she took great gulps of air, forcing herself to stop crying. She gave up her pointless wiping and stepped away from the wall, eyeing the floor.
Her discarded clothes and shoes were in the path of the still-spreading urine, so she moved them to the back corner. She’d wait to get dressed until she was dry.
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself!” Her words echoed in the metal cube. “Think, Ellin!”
Merak’s treating me like an animal. I won’t let him see me acting like one.
Ellin paced, arms folded against the cold, trying to convince herself she was calm, controlled. Strong. At last, her legs and thighs felt dry, and she eagerly pulled her clothes and shoes back on. The fabric was cold on her skin, but it was better than being bare.
She didn’t want to sleep, but if she was going to fight back when Merak came, she had to be rested. She lay on her side in the same corner where she’d put her clothes.
The floor made her entire body colder, so she brought her knees to her chest and lay her chilled hands under her head. She shuddered, though she was unsure whether she was reacting more to the cold, her fear, or the smell of stagnant urine. The room was too bright to sleep, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn off the light.
She lay, imagining every way she might fight Merak, remembering self-defense moves she’d learned in school. Knee to his groin. Fingers in his eyes. Kick his knees. Stomp his toes. Choke him until he passes out.
At last, she drifted into a light sleep, waking often. Her plans for Merak filled her waking moments, but it was Trett and Rona who populated her dreams.
SUNDAY, CYON 24, 6293
-13 DAYS
The next morning, Ellin was doing stretches on the floor when she heard the squeak of the door’s metal bar being lifted. She leapt up and pressed herself against the wall, right next to the door. As soon as Merak entered, she’d attack. The electric buzz of adrenaline filled her limbs.
The door cracked open beside Ellin. Her muscles tightened.
Something slid in through the narrow gap. Merak’s voice followed: “Put those on your hands and feet. When they’re properly in place, they’ll send a signal to my flex.”
The door slammed close. Ellin pressed against its cold metal, but she heard the bar come down, rendering her efforts useless. She reached down to pick up whatever Merak had slid into the room.
There were two identical objects, thin figure-eights made of Flexen, the same pliable material used in flexscreens. She wasn’t sure what they were officially called; everyone just referred to them as eights. Once placed on her ankles and wrists, they’d tighten, restraining her.
She threw them across the room and stood next to the door again.
It cracked open, and before Merak could speak, she shoved the door hard. It didn’t open any farther.
“Ellin, I admire your tenacity, but I know you’ve had all night to come up with escape plans, and I’ve had all night to consider how to stop you. There’s a gravity-amplified shelving unit in front of this door. I’m also her
e, holding a gun and watching through the gap. Put the eights on, please. I have blankets and food.”
She kept pushing.
Merak didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to. The door wouldn’t budge.
Ellin looked down at the empty water pouch and shivered from the chill of the room. She could refuse to do what Merak said, and by the next day, she’d be weak from dehydration.
Or she could accept his offerings, keep her strength up, and attack when he dropped his guard. Bound hands could still turn into fists.
She retrieved the eights and sat in front of the crack in the door, meeting Merak’s gaze. Keeping her expression blank, she placed the restraints on her ankles. They tightened, and she repeated the process on her wrists.
Ellin watched Merak push a button on the shelf. With a shhh sound, it hovered off the ground. He moved it out of the way and pressed the button again, lowering the shelf back to the floor. Only then did he open the door and enter.
“I’m sorry, Ellin.” Merak knelt, out of her reach, his eyes oozing sympathy. “I didn’t want you to have to wear those, but as I told you yesterday, I can’t risk you leaving. Things will be better when you see what I’ve brought you. I promise.” His eyebrows drew close to each other, and one side of his upper lip curved up. “What is that smell?”
Ellin raised an eyebrow and stared at him. It was a stupid question; the odor could only be one thing.
Merak’s face slackened in realization, and then he brought a hand up to cover his mouth. He looked down, and his gaze quickly found the puddle from the night before. “Ellin, I didn’t even think about your need to relieve yourself. Oh no, I’m sorry. That must have been—I’m . . . I’m genuinely sorry I didn’t think of that.”
Ellin had never seen him so perplexed. She felt the sting of tears wanting to sprout, and she blinked several times. His regret looked so real, and his voice sounded so kind. After less than a day in this place, she was already craving human empathy. But not from him! She swallowed and hardened her expression.
“Before I leave, I’ll find something you can use as a toilet,” he said. “I will. But first, I’ll get you the other things I brought.”
Merak exited and came right back in, carrying a large versabox. He set it next to her and pulled out a pale-green blanket. He ran his hand lightly along its surface. “We redid my daughter’s room recently. This was hers.” His voice was quiet. “It’s very soft.”
He handed the blanket to Ellin, following it with a pillow and an item she didn’t recognize. “This is a mattress. Push the button in the corner, and it’ll fill with heated foam. Here are a couple of changes of clothes and a jacket. I’m sorry it’s cold in here; the climastat won’t go any warmer. I brought these wipes so you can give yourself sponge baths, and this container will sanitize them for reuse. There’s plenty of food and water. Oh, and—” Merak reached in and pulled out a flex. “This is set up with games, books, and films. It doesn’t have a network connection, but it will keep you occupied.”
He arranged the food along one wall, glancing at her frequently as if expecting her to waddle away with her eights on. When he was done, he sat in front of her. “Is there anything else you need, Ellin? I want you to be as comfortable as possible in this place until you’re ready to join me in the world again.”
Ellin looked pointedly at the stinking liquid on the floor, then raised her eyebrows at Merak.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten. I have an idea.” He pulled out his flex and set to work on it. A couple of minutes later, he pushed one corner of the versabox.
Ellin watched as the box lost its firmness. One piece fell off, turning into a flat disk. The rest molded itself into a bowl with smooth, rounded edges, like an upside-down bell with a flat base.
“Best bowl design I could find on short order,” he said. “I hope it works. You can keep the lid on it when you’re not using it. You’ll have to use the wipes since this bowl doesn’t have a sprayer. Of course, I’ll clean the bowl daily.”
“You will empty my chamber pot every day?”
They were the first words she’d spoken since he’d arrived, and he chuckled. “Yes. I have two children. It takes more than a chamber pot to deter me.” He gestured to the eights on her wrists and ankles. “I hate to make you keep those things on any longer, but there’s one more thing I want to do before I go. I’ll need to head back to the glidecraft first. I promise I’ll be quick.”
With a smile, he left, bolting the door.
Ellin was hungry, but she wouldn’t debase herself by letting Merak see her eat with her hands bound. She watched the door, trying desperately to think of a way to stop him. She was still at a loss for ideas when he returned.
He bore a spray bottle, a towel, and a sheepish expression. “I really am sorry I didn’t provide a way for you to relieve yourself, Ellin. The least I can do is get this place cleaned up for you.”
He knelt on the floor and cleaned up every bit of dry or wet urine he could find. As he worked, he tried to start a few conversations with Ellin, but when she didn’t respond, he gave up.
After a few minutes, he stood. “Now that’s an improvement.” He stowed the spray bottle and dirty towel under his arm and pulled out his flex. “Ellin, I have to go, but as soon as I bolt the door, I’ll loosen the eights. From now on when I visit, I’ll knock, and I expect you to put them on.” He nodded at her and gave her a small smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Wait!” Ellin blurted.
“Yes?”
“My antirad—how do I make sure it protects me when I’m getting dressed?”
“Oh, Ellin, you don’t need to worry about that. The radiation doesn’t travel this far. You’ll be safe.” He pulled out his own antirad and pressed a button on it. “See? I’m turning mine off.”
He smiled at her, but Ellin didn’t feel any better. His words reminded her of how far away she was, not just from the dig site, but from everything else too. I won’t let him see my fear. I won’t.
Merak left. The bar on the door clanged back into place, and Ellin’s bonds loosened. She slipped the eights off and tried to ignore the heavy tightness that filled her core when silence settled over her again.
She squared her jaw and put on the jacket, which was branded with MERAK in huge letters across the back. Then she used the chamber pot and scurried over to the food. It was delicious, a fact she resented.
25
FRIDAY, CYON 29, 6293
-8 DAYS
Ellin quickly fell into a routine in her metal prison. She woke early, thanks to the alarm on her flex. For fifteen minutes, she meditated, drawing air in and releasing it, developing a calming rhythm as she pictured herself on a beach or atop a mountain. Next, she rose and ensured she’d washed up, dressed, and fed herself before Merak arrived. He wouldn’t ever see her weak if she could help it.
She watched films or played games on her flex in the morning. Then she ate lunch, exercised, and spent more time on her flex in the afternoon. After dinner, she read books and went to bed early. It was monotonous, and she had way too much time to think and worry. She’d chewed her fingernails down so far that her fingertips were sore, and she’d caught herself pulling out eyebrow hairs too.
For the first few days, she tried desperately to think of a plan to escape and stop the dig. Merak, however, was too consistent. Every morning, he knocked on the door and entered once she’d put the eights on.
She wanted to trip him with her bound feet or hit him in the eye with both fists, but he never got close enough. Then, horrifyingly, she found herself looking forward to his visits. He was unfailingly friendly, and after days of near-silence, she responded to one of his questions, then couldn’t stop talking.
She wouldn’t answer his questions about her family, but she did tell him about her goals—to become a surgeon, or maybe a journalist. He smiled at that, then updated her on the dig, which was progressing according to schedule.
On the sixth full day of her
imprisonment, Ellin woke from a dream in which Merak had been holding her tightly, rubbing her back. It wasn’t romantic in any way; rather, it was the type of warm, comforting hug she’d never been without. Her dad had given her hugs like that every day, and after her parents had died, her friends’ parents sometimes wrapped her up in tight embraces. Then there was Trett. He’d always been a great hugger.
Ellin shut her eyes, hoping to return to the dream, craving the fatherly comfort she’d felt in Merak’s warm arms.
She sat up fast enough to make herself dizzy. “This is not okay!” she shouted, determined to push the dream out of her head. When she realized she was hugging herself, she flung her arms out, shaking them off as if Merak had contaminated them.
Ellin’s flexscreen was next to her bed. She picked it up and looked at the date. Cyon 29th. Eight days until the end of the world.
She realized she’d never bothered to look at the date the day before. She’d spent the entire day worrying about whether she was talking too much to Merak, while also planning what their next conversation might be.
The man whose hug she craved was responsible for her living in a cold, metal box that always smelled of human waste. Because of Alvun Merak, Ellin was isolated from the world, and Rona and Trett were surely going crazy with worry.
Trett. How she wished she’d brought him with her to meet with Merak. Maybe together, they would’ve avoided capture. Or—and she knew it was a terrible thing to wish for, but the desire remained—maybe Merak would have thrown them both in this cold room. They could’ve made up and waited for the end of the world together. If one of them got anxious, knowing their time was short, they could have kissed or joked or read together—something, anything, together—to distract each other.
Her continued desire for Trett had compelled her to consider an uncomfortable question: Why did I break up with him? After days of chewing on it, she thought she’d figured it out.
Her relentless drive to achieve had always carried her along like a massive ocean wave. It was thrilling, to be sure. It was also exhausting, the constant effort to keep from drowning in ever-higher goals.
The Seer’s Sister: Prequel to The Magic Eaters Trilogy Page 20