Held (Gone #2)

by Claflin, Stacy

  When she got outside, Macy noticed that the temperature had dropped since she had been out last. She hurried into the outhouse, which wasn't much warmer, and went back inside. She was sure to wash her hands in the sink, aware of their obsession with cleanliness.

  Eve smiled at her again when she came into the living room. "Are you ready?"

  Macy paused, wishing she had a coat to take with her. Why did they insist on walking around in the cold winter without them? Didn't people get sick or worse, die? There was a reason that people wore coats, and it wasn't fashion. Not in the snow.

  "Come on."

  Macy hurried and went outside with Eve, shivering as soon as the frosty air hit her skin. She struggled to keep up with Eve who was walking fast—because of the cold? Or was it because she thought she was important, being married to the head prophet?

  They went down several streets before they stopped in front of an odd-shaped building. It was almost round. Macy followed Eve around to the other side to a door.

  Eve opened the door, but didn't go in. Macy gave her a questioning look.

  "You need to go in on your own."

  "Why?"

  "Going in there, you'll find what you're looking for. If you're blessed, you'll see a vision into your future. Not everyone does their first time, but being Chester's daughter, I wouldn't be surprised in the least if you did. Go on."

  Macy looked back and forth between Eve and the doorway. She couldn't see anything inside.

  "Hurry, before it gets dark. And take this." Eve pulled out a candle, lighting it without even putting the candle down. She handed it to Macy.

  Macy's throat felt dry as she took the candle.

  "I'll be waiting out here for you. Take as long as you need."

  Macy took a deep breath and walked toward the door, her pulse quickening.

  When she entered the building, she gasped in horror.

  Visions

  Macy stared at the room, afraid to go inside. She held her breath and shook, this time it wasn't due to the chilly air.

  Eve pushed her forward and then closed the door behind her.

  The room was mostly dark, but the candle lit it better than she had expected because every inch of the walls and ceiling were covered in thousands of mirrors. She looked around, seeing herself and the candle flame everywhere she looked. The mirrors were of every size imaginable, each one reflecting off each other.

  She didn't just see one image of her, she saw many. Why had Eve brought her there? Was this some kind of torture? The candle and her white garb made the room even creepier. It reminded her of a scary movie—which was probably where Jonah had gotten the idea for this place.

  Had Eve been serious when she said that Macy might have visions in there? Was that supposed to be a joke, or did Eve really think people could see into the future with all the mirrors?

  As she moved around in a little circle, the flame cast shadows all around. She could imagine going crazy in that room. That had to be how people saw visions. Was she supposed to stay in long enough to go insane and see visions? Of what—her future? A vision of how to escape would be nice, but that wasn't going to happen.

  She stopped moving and stared at the reflections—which were a lot with the mirrors playing off each other. Even though she wasn't moving any longer, some of the images appeared to be. Was it because of the flickering flame or the reflections going on into infinity?

  Or was she losing her mind already? Was it supposed to work that fast? No, it was probably because Chester had been working on her. She'd been locked in the barn cellar, dealt with Chester's threats and his locking her in Heather's room. Not to mention forcing her to cut and color her hair and everything else he had done.

  She never knew what to expect because when he seemed to relax, a blowup wasn't far off.

  Macy was almost jealous of Heather. She'd been able to get away from him. But where was she now? The last diary entry Macy had read, Heather was about to be taken away to a mental institute, removing Chester of his parental rights.

  It was too bad they hadn't taken things a step farther and locked him up. They must not have found any proof of him killing his wife. Heather had been certain something horrible had happened to her mom, but no one would listen to her.

  Chester knew how to get what he wanted, so it was no surprise that he had found a way to avoid being discovered having anything to do with whatever had happened to Karla.

  As Macy stared into one mirror, she swore she saw the image of someone else join the hundreds of her in it. She jumped in surprise. She looked around the room, spinning in a circle. Her skin crawled. She was alone.

  It had to have been her mind playing tricks on her. Maybe thinking about Chester wasn't the best thing to do while in the creepy room. She tried to stare at the floor, away from the trillions of images of her, but she couldn't. Her eyes pulled her to look up. Part of her was drawn to the images.

  The reflections jumped as the flame flickered from her spinning around moments ago. She was adjusting to the many images, not finding them so creepy. She stared into her own eyes in one particularly large mirror. There seemed to be an infinite number of her.

  It was actually kind of interesting. Looking at so many of her, trailing back like a slinky. A human slinky. But not just one. Due to all of the mirrors, there were countless reflections of her slinky-self from various angles.

  She stared at the image directly in front of her. It narrowed its eyes as Macy did. It moved the candle up when she did. It scratched her nose when she did. Then it smiled.

  Macy froze. She was sure she hadn't smiled. Not only that, but she felt like she was being watched. Of course she was being watched. She stared at the one that had smiled, waiting to see if it would do anything else.

  Her mind had to be playing tricks on her. That was the only explanation. There was no way her reflection could smile on its own. Why hadn't she paid closer attention to the other images? Then she would know if any of them had smiled or if it had been just the one.

  Of course it had only been the one she had been staring at. It only smiled because it was in her imagination. It was no wonder they had houses of mirrors at carnivals.

  Did Jonah and Eve routinely send people there as a punishment? But Eve had acted as though it was an honor to go in. Macy would have to ask Luke about it later. Or what if she brought it up and no one knew about the mirrored room? They would think that she was crazy.

  Her reflection winked at her. Macy stared, holding tighter to the candle, which shook. The wink had to have been from the flicker of the flame. Obviously her reflection hadn't winked at her any more than it had smiled.

  Could she leave the house of horrors yet? Eve wouldn't send her back in, would she? Macy needed to get out before her mind really started playing tricks on her.

  She took a deep breath and made her way back to the door. Macy turned the knob, but it wouldn't budge. Her stomach twisted in knots.

  Macy twisted the knob again, this time making noise. If Eve was still out there, she would let Macy out. Wouldn't she? She would have to, right?

  She looked around for a place to set the candle, but it didn't have a holder so it would roll to the ground, no matter what she did. She couldn't risk the flame going out.

  Accidentally looking up, Macy saw the little flame in a mirror. As it moved back and forth, it became larger with each movement until it took up the entire mirror. None of the other mirrors showed the enlarged flame, but the one that had grown covered Macy completely. She blinked fast to get the image to return to normal, but it didn't.

  She shook her head, finding that the blaze had grown even more. Macy saw herself, but not as she really was. The image of her walked out of the flame, looked around, and then ran. She looked terror stricken as she ran, the fire chasing after her.

  Macy looked away and pulled on the knob, twisting at the same time. "I'm ready to get out!" She kept that up for a couple minutes, before giving up.

  Had Eve gone back t
o Chester and the prophets? Were they all laughing at her? Maybe they were all standing outside the door, enjoying themselves.

  "Let me out!" She banged on the door with her free hand. "I'm done!"

  No response.

  She tried the knob one last time and then leaned against the door, sliding to the floor. She looked around, still seeing too many images of herself. Soon she would see visions, but not because she was some kind of seer. Because she was going crazy.

  Every time she thought things couldn't get any worse, they always found a way to do exactly that. She didn't even want to wonder what could top the mirror room. She looked at her feet, refusing to acknowledge the mirrors. They could force her to be in there, but they couldn't make her look at the reflections.

  It was the one thing she could actually control, and she knew that focusing on that would be what would keep her going until she was finally presented with a way to escape—even if was years down the road.

  She would let them think they could control her, but they would never control her thoughts. They couldn't get in there, and as far as Macy was concerned, they never would. Let them think she was stupid enough to believe their insanity. It was to her advantage. The moment she allowed them in, that was when she would lose.

  As long as she held onto reality, she stood a chance at getting back home. It was a small chance at this point, but at least it was something. It was more than just something—it was all she had.

  Light from the candle shone on the floor, light also bouncing from the mirrors.

  "Chester is not my dad. These people are not prophets." She repeated that until she grew tired of whispering. If anything, repeating it would reinforce reality so that they couldn't get in. She had to make sure that her defenses were stronger than their tactics to bring her down.

  Sure, no one other than Chester knew the truth—that she wasn't Heather—but that didn't change the fact that they all wanted her to become an obedient member of the community. She couldn't put her finger on it, but for some reason, she couldn't help thinking that Luke wanted out too. Maybe it was the mirrors getting to her.

  Even if she was wrong about him, there had to be others. Or at least an other. Surely, she wasn't the only one dragged into this place against her will, wanting to go back to texting and posting status updates. She missed taking selfies and even bickering with Alex.

  While Macy sat surrounded by mirrors in the middle of a community of crazy people, was her family thinking about her too? Did they buy Chester's fake updates that she had run away? Were they mad at her? Did they have an inkling that she had been taken against her will?

  Did Zoey know enough about "Jared" to figure it out? They were best friends and Macy told her everything. Zoey would know that something was wrong. She would know the status updates were fake. But would anyone listen to her?

  Macy leaned her head against the door. The community would be the last place anyone would look for her.

  The doorknob jingled above her. Macy jumped up before it would open and send her falling to the ground.

  Surprise

  Zoey sat in front of her plate, pushing the food around. She had no appetite, and just looking at it made her sick. Was it because of being pregnant, the news of the body, or withdrawals from smoking?

  "Aren't you going to eat?" her mom asked.

  "How can you expect me to eat at a time like this?" Zoey snapped, and then glared at her.

  "Don't look at me like that. You're the one supporting another life."

  "I'm not hungry. If I really needed to eat, the food wouldn't turn my stomach."

  "You can't think about only yourself anymore. That's what's going to happen if you decide to keep it. Nothing is going to be about you again. Every decision you make has to be in the baby's best interest."

  Zoey bit her tongue, wanting to tell her mom that she'd already given up cigarettes, and the headaches were killing her. "You think I don't know that?"

  "You need to eat."

  "I'm not hungry!" Zoey slammed the fork down. "I'm going to puke if I eat. Why can't you have some understanding? Do you even know what it means that they found a body? It could belong to my best friend."

  Valerie's face softened. "You know I'm worried about you."

  "Do I?" Zoey's eyebrows came together.

  "Of course I'm worried, Zo. I wish I could do something to fix the whole situation with Macy. I would love nothing more than to flip a switch and make it so that she never disappeared."

  "I've hardly seen you shed a tear."

  "I'm being strong for you. Not only that, but I have to take care of our family financially. You know that. I've cried over Macy's disappearance, but I don't have room to wallow. I have to take care of you. That's part of being a parent—a single parent, in particular. I can't rely on someone else to help out. It's all on me or we lose the house and other nice things we've gotten used to."

  Zoey shook her head. "You could try showing a little empathy, you know. Just a little would be nice."

  "Empathy? You think I haven't shown you any?"

  "Not really, no."

  "This is getting us nowhere. If you're not hungry, then go upstairs and get some rest. You need to take care of yourself."

  "Whatever." Zoey threw her napkin onto the plate, stormed to her room and slammed the door.

  Her headache roared in protest. When would that stop? The pain would go away as soon as her body figured out that she wasn't going to smoke anymore, right? She didn't bother turning on the light, enjoying the darkness of the room.

  She got comfortable on her bed. She probably could have slept for a week if her mom would let her.

  The cell phone's light was blinking. She grabbed it out of her bag and scrolled through a long list of texts. Tons of people were asking if she was okay and giving their condolences.

  Macy wasn't dead! Couldn't they get that? A body had been found. Why assume that it was Macy?

  She dropped her phone on the ground, not wanting to read any more texts. She wasn't going to shed another tear over that body until she found out it was Macy. No one who had known her had even seen the body—the cops wouldn't even let them look at it because it was in bad shape, whatever that meant.

  Zoey's eyelids grew heavier by the second, and she gave into them, slinking down further under her covers. Sleep was most welcome, especially if it got her away from her headache and overall soreness.

  Something woke her up, but she didn't know what. She sat up, looking around. A little light was coming through her blinds, but she didn't feel like she had gotten any sleep.

  She heard a noise.

  What was that? Is that what had woken her?

  Heart pounding, she looked around the room, not seeing anything out of place. She pulled her hair back behind her shoulder. She had heard something; she was sure of that much.

  Zoey grabbed the baseball bat she kept by her bed at her mom's insistence and crept out of bed. She tip-toed to her door, listening.

  Everything was quiet. Zoey grabbed the door knob and turned it slowly, holding her breath.

  The hallway was dark, having no windows to give any light. She looked down the hall, still not hearing anything. Standing still, she waited, clutching the bat. If she heard anything, she would swing. No questions asked.

  There was the noise again down the hall to the right, near her mom's room. It sounded like a thump. She tip-toed in the direction, being as quiet as she could be, careful not to bump against the wall even though she stayed close to it.

  Zoey stopped in front of her mom's door, listening. She heard the thump again. She couldn't tell what it was, but her mom could be in danger.

  She heard something slide across the floor. The image of someone dragging her mom made her blood run cold. She threw open the door, ready to attack.

  Her mom turned, looking frightened. "Zoey! What on earth?" She had a phone up to her ear. "I'm going to have to call you back." She closed the phone and set it on her dresser. "Are you all right
, honey?"

  Zoey lowered the bat. "What was all that noise? You scared the crap out of me."

  "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting you up this early. Are you okay?"

  "Now I am, I guess. I thought I heard an intruder."

  Sadness washed over Valerie's face. "We really need to get you into see a psychologist, dear. With everything you've been through, you're under a lot of stress. Do you remember I upgraded our security system after the Mercer's house was broken into? Not only that, there's always a cop across the street watching their house. If anything strange happened here, they would be right over."

  "Who were you talking to?"

  "Don't worry about it. Are you—?"

  "Of course I'm going to worry about it. What time is it? Who would you be on the phone with this early? Grandma's not sick again, is she?"

  "No, she's fine."

  "What, then?"

  "Zoey, there are some things that kids don't need to worry about."

  "Kid? I'm no kid. I'm a teenager, Mom. I'm old enough to have a baby, because, oh, I am having one. After scaring the crap out of me, I think I deserve to know."

  "I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry. I was just rearranging some of the furniture in here. It was bad timing, my nerves are shot these days too."

  "Why don't you want to tell me who that was?"

  A strange look came over her face, and then she patted her messy bed. "Have a seat, Zo."

  Zoey sat, shaking her head in disbelief. "Let's hear it."

  Her mom sat next to her, patting the top of Zoey's hand. "I don't want to put more on your plate, but you deserve the truth."

  "What is it?" Zoey's stomach dropped to the floor and dread washed over her.

  Her mom looked into her eyes. "That was your dad."

  The room spun. "What? How did you…? I mean, what? How did you find him?"

  "Ever since you told us about the pregnancy, I've been searching. It's obvious you're crying out for help. You need both of your parents, and that's one thing I can't give you by myself."

  "I don't understand."