The Lost

by Natasha Preston

  Hazel sobs. I hear the cord of a bag rub against the metal peg as she hurries after me. Slinging my own bag over my shoulder, I reach for the door handle.

  “Shouldn’t we look in these first?” she asks.

  Grabbing the door handle, I twist and push. “What’s the point?” The bag is light and soft, likely holding some sort of clothing. I don’t care what its contents are right now, I just want to keep going. I don’t know how many rooms are in this building, but the sooner we start, the sooner we’ll finish. And we both want to go home.

  As my eyes adjust to the darkness of the next room, I grab Hazel’s hand. It’s not pitch-black like before, but the only lighting is a dim band of LEDs on the floor. It frames the large room but gives no clues to what is actually in here.

  “What now, huh?” I shout. They’ll be listening. This whole thing is one big game to these bored, rich college students.

  They’re sick.

  “Would you like the light on, Piper?” Caleb asks through the speaker. His voice is soft and musical.

  His voice startles me. It’s not a recording. Sweat beads out on my forehead.

  “Don’t talk to them!” Hazel whisper-shouts.

  “Piper?” he sings my voice. “Would you like the light on, sweetheart?”

  I swallow hard. His amusement at our situation turns my stomach. But we don’t have an option. I have to converse with him.

  “Yes!” I snap, glaring at the corners of the room. It’s too dark to see where the speakers are, so my eyes follow the faintly illuminated perimeter of the room. The intercoms and cameras must be up there somewhere.

  Caleb laughs. “Ask nicely.”

  Ask nicely? Is he serious?

  Gritting my teeth, I seethe, “Please turn on the lights.”

  Light floods the room.

  It’s…empty. Aside from another white door in the corner, there’s nothing here. There’s a keypad on that door, though. Why that one and not the others we’ve been through?

  “What’s this?” Hazel mutters, turning to look at the space. We haven’t missed anything. We’re standing in an empty, sterile-looking, pale gray room.

  “I don’t know,” I reply, glancing up at the camera by the speaker. “They’re trying to scare us, make us think something is going to jump out at us—or someone, maybe?”

  She shakes her head. “Why?”

  Isn’t that the million-dollar question?

  “They’re pathetic,” I say, loud enough for the intercoms to pick up. “Playing with people to satisfy their own creepy needs.” I harrumph. “This isn’t funny to anyone but you.”

  “Shh,” Hazel hushes. “Don’t aggravate them.”

  “Or what? They’ll lock us up in their labyrinth? It’s a bit late for that, Haze.”

  “Oh my God, Piper, let’s just focus on getting through this. Please.”

  She’s right. I sigh. “What now, Caleb?”

  “I see you’re beginning to enjoy our game, Piper,” he replies.

  “You think this is fun? This is sick. How did you even get into college?”

  Hazel nudges me, her bony elbow digging into my side. “Piper!”

  My fingers curl into my palms with anger. Damn, I hate him, and I hate that I can’t stay calm. I hate being trapped. I don’t want to do this. I just want to go home.

  I shuffle forward.

  “Do you think they’ve done this before?” Hazel whispers.

  I focus on what is in front of me, blocking out her question. Blocking everything that my reeling mind wants to tell me.

  “We need to get through this door,” I tell her.

  We’ll be on the outside when we’re through this door, I convince myself.

  The room is so long, it must span the length of the building. But it’s narrow so we only have a few feet to reach the next door. We both take small, cautious steps.

  “Nine. Four. Nine. Six,” Caleb announces.

  The code to the door.

  Though it doesn’t seem like there is anything in this oppressively empty space, that doesn’t mean there isn’t anything waiting for us behind that door.

  Caleb and Owen could be lurking, waiting to jump out at us. They’ll laugh and pretend it’s a joke. They’ll probably tell us to lighten up when we don’t think all of this has been funny.

  I lick my lips, my tongue sticking to my dry skin.

  “Open it,” Hazel whispers.

  I draw in a breath. With trembling hands, I punch in the code and the tiny red light on the keypad turns green.

  My fingertips graze the door handle as if it might burn me. But it’s not hot; it doesn’t electrocute me like some prank out of a Home Alone movie. It’s cold. Pushing down, I shove the door and Hazel huddles into my side.

  Sitting in the next room on old leather sofas are four people, all around our age.

  A girl I recognize stands, her tear-filled eyes staring back at us.

  Oh God. It’s her. Lucie Bean. The girl from the newspaper article.

  This is where the missing people go.

  7

  Lucie’s red hair is still in a side braid like in the photo she posted the day she went missing. That was days ago. She’s been here, a few miles from home, the whole time.

  I lock eyes with her and hers widen, as if she knows I recognize her. As if she’s hoped people were looking for her.

  Before she went missing, I’d never seen her in my life. But now I would recognize her bright green eyes and dark red hair anywhere.

  “You know me,” she whispers.

  I want to answer, but my mind is spinning. Lucie isn’t the only one here. There is another girl and two boys. All look around sixteen. All high schoolers. All, I bet, so-called runaways.

  No one is even looking for them because there are always missing clothes and bags from their rooms, so the cops assume their disappearance was a choice.

  Hazel and I didn’t choose this. I don’t think they did, either.

  The two boys move closer to Lucie. One is tall and skinny with dark skin, black hair, and brown eyes. The other is much shorter and muscular with light blond hair and pale green eyes.

  I don’t recognize them, but I do recognize the other girl from the newspaper. She ran away—she’s been missing—for a few weeks. Her hair is raven black and her eyes, which seem haunted, are the darkest brown I have ever seen.

  “What’s happening?” I ask, fear trickling down my spine. Hazel and I aren’t getting out.

  The tall guy takes a step forward, still keeping his distance, though clearly we are all in this together. “I’m Theo. This is Kevin and Priya. Looks like you know Lucie.”

  I shake my head. “We heard about her. We met some of her friends earlier tonight.”

  Lucie whimpers, leaning against Kevin’s shoulder.

  “What…? How…?” I don’t know what to ask first. I have so many questions, so many thoughts whizzing around my mind that it’s impossible to pick one.

  “What is this?” Hazel whispers.

  Theo tilts his head. “They keep us here. It’s their idea of fun,” he spits. “There are rooms.” His eyes darken, as does his voice. “Challenges.”

  “Challenges?” Hazel asks.

  “They like to see how far they can push us…how much we can take,” Kevin explains.

  I don’t want to know what he means by that. I don’t ask, though, because in this moment, ignorance is bliss.

  “How long have you been here?” I ask, trying to concentrate on when Hazel and I might get out…not how long we’ll have to stay.

  What could they challenge us to do? How bad could it be? Why do they all appear defeated?

  Theo looks into the distance like he needs a minute to think about it. “It’s not easy to keep track of time. There are no calendars, but I’ve been h
ere the longest, about two months. Kevin’s one month. Priya, three weeks, and Lucie is new. It’s sometimes hard to keep track of the date if no one new has arrived in a while.”

  “What date is it?” Priya asks, her voice soft and timid.

  “July twenty-fifth,” I tell her.

  “I thought so. I’ve been trying to keep up with the days.”

  “How?”

  She looks up. Above us is a small window, way too small for someone to crawl through. It barely even lets in light. “I’ve been tracking the days, making a note of them. I was only a day off when Lucie arrived.”

  Wow.

  “No!” Hazel snaps. “No way. I’m not watching for the sun to rise to tell me the date, and I’m not staying here for weeks or months!” She pulls her hand out of mine and spins, pounding her fists on the door behind us. “Let us out right now, you sick bastards! Let us out!”

  “Shut her up!” Kevin snaps.

  I ignore him. Hazel is only doing what I want to do. I’m worried she’ll hurt herself if she keeps slamming the door. I grab her wrist and tug her backward. “Haze, shh. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

  Her legs give way, and we both slide to the ground. Her shoulders slump, and she sobs against my side, gripping my arm like I can somehow protect her.

  I hope I can. I wish my confidence, my strength, my stubbornness were enough to break down all the doors in this building.

  Why so many doors? And so many locks?

  “Are we going to die? There’s no getting out, is there?” she cries.

  “Hey.” I grip her upper arms and turn her so she’s facing me. “Hold it together. There is always a way. Always. That’s what you told me when I lost my sister and thought things would never be good again.”

  There’s a hard determination to my voice that surprises me.

  “You can’t know that.”

  “And you can’t know it’s hopeless. There’s a way in, so there’s got to be a way out. Okay?”

  She nods, but she looks as defeated as the rest of them here.

  Kevin and Theo have been here for so long, and they haven’t found a way out.

  But that doesn’t mean there isn’t one.

  Maybe someone could play dead, and when Owen, Caleb, and their other friend come to investigate, we could jump them.

  Theo kneels on the floor beside us. “Come and sit. We’ll get you some water. Then you can change, and we’ll answer all those questions I can see in your eyes.”

  “Change?” I ask. Ah, the bag on my back.

  He smiles weakly, almost in apology. “They require it.”

  That’s when I notice they’re all wearing the same plain, dark-gray sweatshirt and sweatpants.

  I close my eyes. Caleb and his friends are trying to strip us of our identity. Like in prison.

  They’ve chosen the wrong girl. I’ve never been into fashion. I always wear jeans and T-shirts. I don’t care what I’m wearing, so they can do their worst. They are not going to break me by making me wear some uniform.

  I look at the camera square on as I stand and drop the bag from my shoulder. Bring it on.

  Hazel rises to her feet as well, her body visibly trembling. She’s scared. I am, too. But I won’t be used as some sick form of entertainment. My life…our lives are worth more than that. She doesn’t want me to anger them, but I’m not about to give in.

  “Let’s get changed, Hazel.” I turn to Theo. “Is there somewhere private we can do that?”

  He shakes his head. “There’s a bathroom through there, but it has a camera, too.”

  Closing my eyes, I nod because my voice isn’t working. There is nowhere we won’t be seen. Caleb and his friends will see me in the bathroom. I know in the grand scheme of things, with us being trapped here, someone seeing me pee isn’t the biggest issue. But it’s still twisted.

  “Come on, Haze.” I tug her toward the door Theo pointed to, and she reluctantly follows. I literally have to drag her. She’s not helping this situation at all. “Hazel, snap out of it. I need you,” I whisper in her ear, hoping that no one else can hear. I don’t know how sensitive the intercoms are, if they can pick up our voices when we whisper.

  Which makes me wonder if anyone has checked to see if there are intercoms we can reach and rip down. We could stand on something or boost each other, but I would have thought there are more than what we can see mounted to the ceiling, for that exact reason.

  Theo, Kevin, Lucie, and Priya watch us as we go into the bathroom. Their gazes burn into the back of my head.

  I close the door behind us and drop my bag to the floor.

  “They can see us in here,” she whispers. Her eyes fill with tears.

  “Forget about that. They want us to feel uncomfortable, so pretend you don’t care.” I keep my voice low, but there is a good chance they can still hear what I’m saying. I suppose it doesn’t really matter. Of course, we’re not going to be okay with being kidnapped and watched.

  Would it even be considered kidnapping since we got in the car willingly? False imprisonment, maybe.

  I tug on the hem of my top with my heart racing and pull it over my head. Hazel and I have changed in front of each other hundreds of times before at school and home, so I focus on that, pretending we’re back in her room getting into sweats before a movie marathon.

  “It’s just us,” I say. Though it’s a total lie. We might be the only people in this room, but there are at least three sets of eyes watching us.

  Hazel slowly lowers her bag to the floor. She pulls the drawstring open.

  I take out my own clothes and tug on the sweatshirt. It’s lined with fleece and super-comfortable, I’ll give the psychos that. The sweatpants are the same. It’s something I would wear for lounging around. I stand tall.

  Hazel is the polar opposite. When she’s dressed, her shoulders hunch.

  “Hey.” I grip her shoulders and push them back, forcing her back straight. “We have each other. You are not giving up. Promise me, Hazel.”

  She takes a breath, emotion passing across her face. It looks like determination. She’s trying at least. “Okay, Piper.”

  “Let’s get back out there. I really want to hear what Theo and the others have to say.”

  And I also really don’t. Then it will be real, all of this will be real. I won’t be able to pretend that Caleb will let us out when we’ve been scared enough.

  Do they plan to keep us here forever? What happened to the other missing teenagers from before Theo’s time?

  I have so many questions, though I’m not sure I am ready for the answers.

  “Piper,” Hazel says, slamming her hand on the bathroom door as I go to open it. “We’re getting out of here, aren’t we?”

  “Damn straight, we are.”

  One way or another, we’re getting out.

  She lowers her hand slowly. My heart doubles in weight with the responsibility. Hazel is counting on me. We’ve always had one another’s back, but the dynamic between us has shifted tonight, and I’m the one bearing the responsibility. It’s not her fault that she’s terrified and probably in shock. But I do hope my Hazel comes back to me soon, because I’m not sure I can do this on my own. I need my partner in crime.

  We exit the bathroom. Theo, Kevin, and Priya sit on the sofas arranged in a square, facing inward. Lucie is pacing in the middle, chewing on her fingernail. She stops and looks up as we walk toward them.

  Hazel and I sit opposite the three and wait to see what Lucie does. She sits next to Priya, staring at me with a fiery expression. I can tell she wants to ask about what’s happening outside, if people are looking for her, if her family is frantic with worry.

  I don’t want to tell her the truth: They all think she took off. Other than her mom’s initial Facebook plea and a few posts from her friends wishing her well and ask
ing her to keep in contact, no one seems to be looking for her because it seems as if Caleb and his friends packed some of her things to cover their tracks.

  Our dead-end town is perfect for people like Caleb.

  Ignoring Lucie as best I can, I ask Theo, “What do they want with us?”

  “Control. Fear. We’re pawns in a sick game to them.”

  “Pawns? How?”

  He licks his lips. “Who will mentally survive rooms one to five.” He takes a ragged breath. “And who will physically survive room zero.”

  8

  “Physically?” I repeat.

  I don’t get it. My mind rejects his words and their meaning every time I try to put them together.

  They want to see who will physically survive room zero.

  They kill people in that room?

  “I don’t…” Hazel is trying to make sense of it, too, but like me, she’s coming up blank.

  Theo shifts in his seat. “We knew someone was coming.”

  “What?”

  Kevin claps him on the shoulder. “Last week, Sophie…died. They always find a replacement. It’s a surprise that two of you turned up. I don’t think there has ever been a double abduction.”

  He’s calling it an abduction. Oh God. He’s right. Even though we got into the car willingly, we were abducted.

  I close my eyes and rub my forehead. Hazel and I were abducted.

  “What happened to her?” I ask, nausea washing over me in big tidal waves.

  “She didn’t have a choice,” Kevin says defensively.

  I’m certain I don’t want the answer, but I have to ask: “Sophie didn’t?”

  “Priya didn’t.”

  Hazel grips my wrist, squeezing hard.

  My gaze flicks to Priya. Her head is hung low, black hair falling in her face like a cloak. “I didn’t want… We had to f-fight. I didn’t want to.”

  “It’s okay,” Theo soothes. “Sophie’s blood is on their hands, not yours.”

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. They make kids fight to the death?

  “This isn’t real,” Hazel mumbles.

  The thought of ending someone’s life is abhorrent. “I can’t do that. I can’t,” I protest.