The Lost

by Natasha Preston

  His green eyes shine with amusement as he lowers the gun and tilts his chin in the direction of the door. “We’ll have to do that again and see if anyone else wants to play,” he says.

  Ignoring him, I step forward, pressing my side into Theo’s as we walk past him. The gun follows us, and although my heart is racing, I try to stay calm. Shooting us right now isn’t going to be part of their game. How anticlimactic would that be?

  Six doors line the long, dark, narrow corridor. A shiver runs the length of my spine as we pass room five and room zero. I pray I never have to go into either of those.

  Theo places his palm on the small of my back, fingers digging in just a little too much. His jaw is set hard. He’s angry with me still.

  He saw Caleb waiting for us with a damn sword, and Owen had a gun. How can he blame me for being back in here? We had to! Somewhere out there, Matt was also waiting and who knows what weapon he was carrying.

  The doors in front of us click as we dash back through to the main room. Is Matt pulling the strings instead of waiting in the woods? Or did Owen leave the door and go back in to do this? Maybe there are more of them. I’ve only seen three, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t anyone else.

  Not that it matters how many are involved. Two against one isn’t good odds when that one is sporting a massive sword.

  We enter the room again and it’s eerily quiet, even for this hour.

  I turn to Theo, wringing my hands. “Do you want a cup of tea?” I ask.

  He freezes, side-eyeing me and clenching his jaw.

  Still mad, then.

  “Theo, talk to me.”

  “There’s nothing to say. I’ll put the kettle on. I need something to do.”

  He storms past me, narrowly missing running into me completely.

  Things could get fun in here if he’s going to stay angry. There are four rooms, one a bathroom, so it’s not like we can avoid each other until he gets over it. If he honestly believed we could have gotten away, he wouldn’t have followed me back in here.

  But it’s obviously all going to be my fault.

  We don’t have access to broadcast TV, but we do have DVDs, so I stick Hocus Pocus on and take a seat on the sofa.

  Theo slams the kettle down, slams the mugs on the counter, and rips the silverware drawer open so hard it bangs.

  I wince at the fury in his actions. This isn’t good.

  “Hey, what the hell is going on?” Kevin asks, rubbing his eyes as he stumbles from the bedroom like he’s drunk. I think in reality, Theo has woken him, but he’s still half asleep.

  “Nothing,” Theo grunts. “Sorry. I’ll make you some coffee.”

  Kevin’s light eyes linger on Theo for another second, his eyebrows pulled together. I don’t think he believes Theo.

  Deciding not to push Theo, Kevin walks toward me and sits.

  “Hey,” I say, doing a much better job of being cheerful than Theo. “How did you sleep?”

  He shrugs. “Not too bad when I actually fell asleep.”

  “You’re having trouble?”

  His eyes widen like a deer caught in the headlights. “I…”

  “Kevin, I know you’re the big, strong, sports-loving guy who works out, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be scared in here. This affects us all.”

  He laughs humorlessly. “Yeah, it does. I hate feeling powerless.”

  “You’re not. You’re super-strong.” I lower my voice. “We’ll get our chance to escape one day.”

  He cracks a smile and nods. “I can’t wait to face them.”

  The speaker crackles. “Kevin to the waiting room,” Owen instructs.

  Did they hear that? Is Kevin getting his chance to face them now?

  Without looking back, Kevin stands and heads out of the room.

  I watch him go, watch the door click locked behind him, and my heart tumbles to the floor. Hazel walks into the room, her eyes fixed on Kevin.

  My heart leaps again as the familiar sound of crackling echoes through the room. “Piper,” Caleb says, a smile highlighted in his voice. “Come to the waiting room.”

  Is this punishment for earlier? Because I didn’t run like they wanted.

  But Theo isn’t being summoned, and he was the one wanting to take our chances. Why would I be the only one going into a room? Not that I want Theo to, but it doesn’t make sense that they wouldn’t send us both.

  None of this makes sense!

  Theo glances my way, his manner somber. He might be angry with me, but he doesn’t want me to go in there.

  “Pipes?” Hazel says as I stand. She shakes her head.

  “It’s fine,” I reply. It was my idea to come back in here and not take a chance, and although I believe it was the right decision, I have to face the consequences.

  Hazel and Theo’s eyes are on me as I walk to the door and open it.

  “Oh God, Piper!” Hazel shouts.

  I spin around just as the door slams shut and locks.

  The hairs on my arms stand with goose bumps at the terror in her scream. They want me to go to room zero with Kevin.

  I brace myself on the wall and breathe.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen. I can’t fight someone to the death, and I certainly can’t fight Kevin. He’s big and strong.

  The door at the end of the waiting room clicks. It’s now unlocked, and I have to move.

  18

  Which room?

  I suck air into my lungs, but it’s like trying to inflate a punctured tire.

  Where are they sending me?

  It can’t be room zero. Not already.

  I stumble forward, my legs like lead. My palm hits the door first, and I push it open.

  Get it together, Piper. You can do this.

  The lighting is low through the rooms, and the smell of bleach stings the back of my throat. Caleb, Owen, and Matt cleaning this place doesn’t seem to fit somehow. But they must do it. It’s not like they can have a cleaner come in.

  I press on, ignoring the speakers and cameras on the ceiling as they watch me make my way to whatever torture they have planned.

  Opening the door to the hallway to hell, I lean against the wall and take a second to compose myself.

  Whatever this is going to be, I can do it. I’m not going to die in here. I’m not going to leave my parents with another child’s funeral to plan. I could really use you with me right now, Penny.

  The first door on the right is open.

  I sob in relief, my eyes closing. It’s not room zero. One is sound. It’s going to be loud, but I can cover my ears to hopefully muffle the worst of it. I can do sound; it won’t kill me.

  Underestimating. That’s what I’m doing on a major scale. It’s going to be awful.

  Opening my eyes, I walk to the room and gently push the door until it opens enough for me to slip inside. The room is the same size as the temperature room, but this one is framed with round speakers at the top and bottom of the walls.

  In the middle of the tiled floor is a thick, black pillow in the shape of a square. It could be a dog’s bed or one of those outdoor beanbags. Inside, I burn. They haven’t left that on the floor for my comfort, and I refuse to curl up like a dog.

  Spurred on by a surge of adrenaline, I stomp forward and kick the pillow. It flies across the floor and hits the wall. I can imagine Caleb chuckling at that, but I don’t care about his reaction.

  Folding my arms, I look up at the camera in the corner, challenging them, although I know it’s foolish. They don’t need encouraging; they’re going to do this with or without my cooperation.

  The door behind me clangs loudly, locking me inside the small white cell with all the speakers.

  This is it.

  I sit in the middle of the floor, where the pillow used to be, and cross my legs. My p
ulse drums and my palms sweat, but I keep my face straight, absolutely determined not to show any fear. Which is super-hard to do when all you feel is fear.

  Closing my eyes, I place myself anywhere but here. I go back seven years when my parents took me and Penny on our first vacation. It was to a crappy hotel on the coast because we couldn’t afford to do much. We did get to spend days on the beach, go on rides at the fair, and eat ice cream for breakfast. We had the time of our lives.

  It was the only week in my childhood that I didn’t feel as if I was missing out. It didn’t bother me that other kids had yearly vacations because I’d had one, too. We didn’t manage to get away after that because the house needed repairs, and Mom lost her job and needed to find another one, but I’ll always have that week.

  My body leaps, heart stalling as a piercing foghorn sound penetrates the room. I curl my back, pressing my head into my hands. The noise is gone as quickly as it started.

  Okay, take it one sound at a time.

  I raise my eyes and look up as if I’ll be able to see when the noise is coming. There is nothing in this room but me, a lot of speakers, and what is possibly a dog bed. What am I looking for?

  Dropping my hands from my ears, I place my palms on the floor. Whenever I can, I need to show them that I’m still fighting.

  I am stronger than they think.

  The next sound that rattles through the room is so high-pitched, I fall to the floor and curl in a ball with my palms over my ears and my head tucked low. The sound slices through my eardrums, making me scream in red-hot pain.

  It hurts so bad, I’m sure my head is splitting in two.

  “Stop!” I scream, but I can’t even hear my own voice over the noise.

  It ends abruptly, and I bow my head, heaving. My body shakes, hands trembling in front of me like I’m freezing.

  I want to move, but I’m too afraid they’ll start it again.

  There is a ringing in my ears that adds to the throbbing pain, taking my breath away.

  Have my eardrums burst? The pain is so intense that I can’t lift my head or move my limbs, but there is no sound in here now, so I can’t tell if I can hear or not.

  It’s not long until I get an answer and assume the fetal position again. A low-pitched, booming sound thunders through the speakers. Boom, boom, boom, over and over again, loud, low, and punishing like having something constantly smashing into the side of your head.

  I cry out, my throat dry and raw with the rips of screams that I can’t hear over the booms. They come thick and fast, so powerful that I feel them vibrating through my body and into my bones.

  Squeezing my eyes closed and pressing my hands to my ears so tight I feel my tendons pop, I scream into the oblivion.

  It stops and starts. The process turning over and over until I wish I had run when I had the chance.

  All of a sudden, silence swirls around me, almost as painful as the noise. The contrast between the two making my ears throb in agony.

  I wait. And I wait.

  A minute later, or it could have been seconds, I dare to open an eye. Is it over? The booming sounds went on for the longest time imaginable.

  My headache, feeling like a full-blown migraine now, prevents me from moving an inch. My body is paralyzed with pain.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been lying on the floor curled into a ball, but it’s been a while.

  Time means nothing in these rooms, but I bet I was in here at least an hour.

  My head lolls back, and I look toward the door.

  Is it over yet?

  Groaning, I lift a heavy hand and run it over my face. My ears hurt so bad, I feel the sting of tears. They’ve already made me wish I’d run; they won’t have my tears, too.

  Get it together. Mom and Dad are out there waiting. Be strong for them. Don’t make them have to grieve for another child. I look up to the ceiling and blink until I’ve regained control.

  I am getting out of here.

  The door clicks. Oh God, it’s over.

  Planting my palms on the floor, I push to my feet. The world seems to tilt to the side, and I stumble. I slam into the door and grab hold of the metal to stop myself falling. I reach for the door handle, but the door doesn’t open.

  What? I heard the lock. Even with the ringing in my ears, I heard that clearly. It’s not a noise I could miss.

  Gripping the handle, I shove it down harder.

  “Come on!”

  Please open. Please!

  The door clangs again, and I fly out of the room. I fall on my knees with a painful thud.

  I look back at the door. That was the second time I heard it unlock.

  But that’s not quite right.

  The first one was the door locking.

  At some point during the torture, when I couldn’t hear anything other than the boom or high-pitched screech, they unlocked the door. I could have gotten out earlier.

  I stumble back to our room to four pairs of eyes on me as soon as I step through the door.

  “Piper!” Hazel says, leaping up and grabbing me into a tight hug. I wince at how damn loud she is. “I was so worried.”

  “Shh. I’m okay,” I reply in a monotone whisper.

  She steps back and, lowering her voice, replies, “Sit down and rest.”

  I take a seat on the sofa and fiddle with my bracelet.

  Theo clears his throat and, without looking anywhere near me, asks, “You okay?”

  He’s still angry. And after that room, I almost can’t blame him.

  “I’m fine. I need to take a nap.” Turning away, I lie down on the sofa.

  With my eyes closed I can pretend, for a short time at least, that I’m not here.

  19

  I manage to nap for an hour, but my rumbling stomach wakes me up. Priya has laid out a plate of sandwiches and chips. My head is killing me, pain radiating down to my shoulders.

  “How long was I in that room?” I ask.

  Everything is so loud, it hammers my head.

  “I think around an hour,” Priya replies softly.

  I haven’t told them where I’ve been, but they know. From the second I shushed Hazel when I got in here, they knew where I’d been…because they’ve been in there, too. Except for Hazel, but someone probably filled her in since she’s not asking me a thousand questions.

  We finish eating the rest of lunch in silence, and Theo avoids all interaction with me. Lucie, Priya, and Hazel know something isn’t right. I don’t miss the many exchanged looks they keep giving each other.

  I clear away the plates, my eyes meeting the tiny window above us. It’s bright, so I think it’s somewhere around midday.

  Kevin has been gone a long time.

  That doesn’t mean anything. A lot of the rooms take longer.

  If he’s being deprived of sleep, he could be gone for days.

  He’ll be back soon, and he’ll be fine.

  He’s not sleeping well; it’s beginning to really get to him, a voice argues in my head.

  “Piper?” Priya’s hand flashes past my face, making me blink.

  “Huh?”

  She takes a plate out of my hand and puts it in the sink. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry, I totally spaced there.” Part of me is still back in that room, and the other part is just trying to recover as quickly as possible.

  The headache is still there, but food helped, and it’s bearable.

  “I’m worried about Kevin,” she admits. “But the last few days, he’s withdrawn and been quiet and pretty defeated.”

  “We’ll make sure he’s okay when he gets back, get him to open up so we can help,” I tell her.

  She turns the tap and fills the sink with soapy water. “Yes, he’s not good at talking about his own feelings, but he needs to.”


  I help Priya wash up and then we join Theo, Hazel, and Lucie on the sofas.

  That’s how we spend the rest of the evening, watching DVDs, volume down low.

  No sign of Kevin and no music yet.

  Theo is still very mad at me over our missed chance of escape this morning. Deep down, I hope he understands we never would have gotten away. They would have killed us if we got close. I think they wanted to hunt us and then bring us back here to prove they can do what they want, that they have ultimate control.

  But we didn’t give them the satisfaction. It was a win for us, even though being back in this hell doesn’t seem like much of a win at all.

  I try to make eye contact with Theo. We are the only ones around the kitchen table since Lucie, Hazel and Priya are still watching DVDs.

  “Theo, I’m sorry.”

  He lifts his eyes to me, and from the lowered angle of his chin it looks like he’s glaring. He may well be. “Let’s not talk about it, Piper. It’s done.”

  “I don’t want you to stay mad at me. We both know coming back was our only choice.”

  “We’ll never know, will we?” The bitter edge to his voice makes me flinch.

  He’s not usually this cold.

  Dropping my half-eaten slice of bread on the plate, I lean my arms on the table. “Look, I understand why you’re angry, but you can’t honestly believe that we had a chance out there. You know what they stand to lose if we’d escaped.”

  “They would never let that happen, Piper. I know that.”

  “What’s going on?” Hazel demands, scowling at me and Theo. “Why are you two whispering? And Theo looks like he wants to kill you, Piper. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m totally over the tension, so spill.”

  Priya and Lucie’s eyes slide toward us, waiting for a reply. Maybe everyone has noticed how off Theo is with me. We’re usually the chattiest ones, especially with each other, so of course the others were going to pick up on the rising tension.

  “You want to tell them, Piper, or shall I?”

  I shrug. “I don’t mind. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “I’m not saying you have.”

  “Doesn’t sound like that to me. Even though you just claimed you understand.”