by Sam Sisavath
“We can just say we had to, that they fought back,” Tom insisted.
“You don’t understand. It wants them. That means it gets them. It’s not up for discussion.”
“Whatever,” Tom said.
Tom turned, his sneakers squeaking loudly against the concrete floor, and he began walking away. The same door they had come through earlier slammed shut in the background.
Cold fingers (probably the other man’s) turned him over onto his side, and what felt like thin, plastic rope tightened around his ankles. Then the rope (no, more like a strip) was pulled tight until his ankles were squeezed against each other. The man grabbed Josh’s arms with the same cold fingers and pulled them behind his back, and the same plastic sensation wrapped around his wrists and pulled them tight against one another.
“Karen,” the other man said, “maybe Tom’s right.”
Karen.
The woman was Karen. That’s why the voice was so familiar.
Tom and Karen. Then who was the other man?
Marcus.
“Yeah, I know he’s right,” Karen said. “That still doesn’t change the fact that it wants them.”
“You mean it’s coming here? Personally?” Marcus said. Josh detected more than just a little bit of dread in his voice.
“Yeah.”
“That’s a first.”
“Like I told Tom, it made it very clear it wants the two soldiers intact.”
“How long before they show up?”
“I don’t know, it didn’t say.”
“This is stupid.”
“Everything about this is stupid, but you should have gotten used to it by now. Go find out what the hell is taking Berg so long with the girls. I don’t want that idiot doing something he’s not supposed to.”
Josh listened to the sounds of Marcus’s footsteps fading, then another door—a different one this time—on the other side of the ballroom opening and closing. There was a brief moment of silence while Josh waited to see (hear) what Karen would do next.
Warm fingers touched both his cheeks and turned his head, and he knew it was Karen. What was she doing now? It could have been his imagination, but he thought she might have lingered on his face a bit.
Oh God, does she know?
After a while, she let his head drop, and this time he landed on his right cheek.
He heard footsteps as Karen walked away. Moments later, a door opening and closing.
Josh opened his eyes.
He wasn’t alone. Almost all of them, except for Elise and Vera, were here. Will and Lara, lying on their sides next to each other, not too far from him. Will was in his boxers, Lara in a T-shirt that was too big for her. Will’s, probably, the same way they had dressed Gaby up in the first shirt they had found, which turned out to be his.
And there, not far from Will and Lara, were Danny and Carly, in the same posture and clothing. Boxers for Danny, T-shirt for Carly. Their eyes were closed, and like Gaby, they looked asleep, blissfully unaware of their surroundings and what was happening to them.
Why am I the only one still awake?
He became frantic, and it only got worse because the only part of his body he could move at all were his eyelids. He still couldn’t turn his head, couldn’t feel his fingers or toes. But he could feel the coldness of the concrete floor pressing up against his body.
Why am I the only one awake?
Oh God, we’re so screwed.
Book Three
‡
SHUDDER ISLAND
CHAPTER 26
JOSH
Pros and cons: What were they?
Pros: He was wide awake. He could hear, smell, see, and feel. He had recovered almost complete control over his arms and legs. He could also turn his head and see the rest of the incomplete ballroom.
Cons: Everything else. He was the only one awake and alert and able to do anything about their captivity. He was also bound with zip ties. The kind cops used instead of handcuffs. Strong stuff. His arms were basically glued together behind his back, his legs squeezed tight under him. He wasn’t going to break the zip ties. Cops around the world weren’t using them because they were easy to break. Besides, he was never the strongest person in the world before The Purge, and that hadn’t changed since.
Conclusion: We’re screwed.
It took an hour before he got all the feeling back in his hands and feet, which allowed him to really feel the tightness of the zip ties, and they hurt. Josh continued lying on his side, opening his eyes only when he was sure there were no islanders in the room. Thank God no one had come back in to check on them in the last hour.
The last person he had seen was Berg, still wearing the same LSU jersey, bringing Elise and Vera in, the girls in their nightgowns. He laid them down on the floor and zip-tied their hands and feet before leaving. After that, Josh only heard voices and footsteps in the hallway, coming and going periodically.
He remembered what Karen had said an hour ago: “Everything about this is stupid, but you should have gotten used to it by now.”
“Gotten used to it by now,” Karen had said.
They had done this before. Lured people to the island. Given them rooms, showers, indoor plumbing, food, air conditioning, and wine.
The wine!
He remembered how they were served during dinner. The trays of glasses already filled with red wine. Sarah and Sienna placing the wineglasses in front of each of them. They knew exactly who was getting which glass. Everyone drinking their wine throughout the night. But Josh only taking a sip or two. Was that why he was awake and everyone else wasn’t? Probably. Two and two got you four.
How did that conversation between Karen and Marcus go earlier?
“Karen,” Marcus had said, “maybe Tom’s right.”
“Yeah, I know he’s right,” Karen had answered. “That still doesn’t change the fact that it wants them.”
Then Marcus had sighed and said, “How long before they show up?”
“I don’t know, it didn’t say,” Karen had answered.
“It.” What was “it”?
Then Marcus had said “they.” How long before “they” showed up? Who was he referring to?
Whoever they were, Josh had a feeling he wasn’t going to like it when it and they finally showed up on the island.
There were two small windows near the ceiling, but it was too dark outside for him to see much of anything. It had to be midnight now, or just shortly after midnight. Running from darkness for the last eight months had given Josh an intuitive sense of time.
So how long before it and they arrived?
Josh managed to rock himself into a sitting position. His arms were stiff and tight against his sides and back, making moving difficult. In movies, he had seen people slide their arms under their butts and bring them forward, and it didn’t look particularly hard, or as if it required a whole lot of athleticism. Which was a good thing, because he didn’t have much athleticism to spare.
He looked down at his legs, at the zip ties wrapped tight against his ankles. So now what? He looked around him. The ballroom was big, and the lack of chairs and tables made it seem even more vast. No wonder every sound echoed in here. He had to be careful about any noises he made.
Sound travels these days.
Josh looked over at Gaby, lying on her side, unconscious, dirty blonde hair splayed behind her like a fan. Behind him, Will and Danny, Carly and Lara, and the girls all still asleep. All zip-tied like him, trussed up like animals waiting for slaughter. The imagery made him shiver, and he instantly regretted it.
Maybe he could wake Will up. Or Danny. They were a hell of a lot stronger than him, and they might have experience with this. Didn’t they teach Special Forces guys how to escape in the Army?
“Will,” Josh whispered. When that got him nothing, he said again, slightly louder this time, “Will, wake up, for God’s sake.”
Will remained on his side, eyes closed.
“Danny,” Josh said.
When he got no reaction, he said again, slightly louder, “Danny, wake up. Wake up.”
The last two words echoed slightly in the room.
Shit. Too loud…
On cue, he heard footsteps coming from the door to his left, and quickly threw himself back down to the floor. He grunted as his cheek smacked into the cold concrete and pain shot through his temple.
Josh ignored the pain—or tried to, anyway—and closed his eyes. He willed his heartbeat to slow into a steady rhythm, but it was still chugging along a few seconds later when the door opened.
He braced himself at the sound of soft footsteps approaching. As the figure got closer, Josh realized his heart was still going too fast. He was sure he would be discovered, but the figure walked right past him. As it did, Josh opened his right eye a crack and saw pink tennis shoes flashing by.
The woman stopped a few feet from him, then stopped and walked back toward him—then turned at the last second and stepped out of his peripheral vision.
He couldn’t see her without moving, but she was very close, and he heard a soft female voice: “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
Sarah.
The single mother with the little girl. The same woman who had recorded the message in the broadcast that lured them to Song Island in the first place. Who, a few hours ago, was fighting back tears as she hugged Gaby in the kitchen. The same woman who had brought out the wineglasses used to drug them.
What the hell was she doing here? And who was she apologizing to?
Josh listened but didn’t hear anything else. He was sure Sarah was still there. He could feel her presence nearby. What was she doing? Crouching next to Gaby? The only way to find out for sure was to turn his head and look, but he was afraid she might feel him moving, just as he could feel her presence behind him.
A few seconds later, he heard the soft rustling of clothes, then footsteps as Sarah stood up and hurried off, back toward the door. Josh counted steps, listening to her getting farther and farther away, and his mind was suddenly in a frenzy.
Options. What options did he have? Not a whole damn lot.
Make a choice! You’re it! There’s no Will! No Danny!
You’re it!
So make a damn choice already!
“Sarah,” Josh said, and quickly struggled up from the floor into a sitting position.
She whirled around, startled by the sound of his voice. She was wearing the same clothes as last night, and there was shock and horror on her face. “You’re awake. You shouldn’t be awake.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“You can’t be awake,” she said again, and quickly turned to go.
“Sarah, please wait,” Josh said, putting every ounce of desperation he could summon into his voice. He didn’t have to dig very deep.
She stopped and looked back at him again. He saw it all in her face—uncertainty, fear, and the thing that gave him the most hope—conflict. He was counting on that, on her not wanting to do this. Her apologies to Gaby a few seconds ago, her embarrassment when they had thanked her in the kitchen hours ago, all entered into his equation.
God, please don’t let me be wrong about her.
“What’s happening here, Sarah?” he asked, looking around, eyes wide. Sell the desperation. Sell it! “Please tell me what’s happening here?”
“You shouldn’t be awake.” Then, quickly, her voice falling a bit, “God, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t be awake. I have to tell them.”
“No, please don’t.”
She hesitated. He knew she wanted desperately to go, but something held her back. Something kept her standing there, looking back across the darkened room at him. Probably the same thing that had brought her here in the first place, even knowing Gaby would never know.
“They’re going to kill us, aren’t they?” he asked softly, keeping his voice low.
Sound travels these days.
“No,” she said.
“No?”
“No. We don’t…do that.” Her voice drifted off.
Josh lifted himself slightly up on his haunches and slid his zip-tied hands under his butt, then kept going along the length of his legs and finally pulled them free. He was shocked it actually worked.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said, even more alarmed than before.
“They’re going to kill me if they see me like this, aren’t they?”
“No, but they might hurt you.”
“Help me, Sarah. Help us.”
She glanced over at Gaby, then at the others. “I can’t…”
“I know you don’t want this to happen.”
“I have no choice. Jenny…I have to look out for Jenny first.”
“Please, Sarah, don’t let them do this. I need your help. We all need your help. Gaby needs your help.”
“I have to go.”
This time she turned completely around and walked the short distance to the door.
“Sarah!” he shouted after her, raising his voice. He had no choice. He had to stop her. “Please! We’re going to die unless you help us! Don’t let this happen! You can stop this!”
She shook her head, but didn’t look back, didn’t stop, and before he knew it, she had opened the door and stepped through, closing it sharply behind her.
Wow, that didn’t work.
Josh sighed but didn’t look away from the door. A part of him expected to see it dramatically open back up and for Sarah to rush back inside.
But the door didn’t open.
Defeated, Josh lowered his arms back into his lap and listened to the silence in the ballroom. It was quiet, except for the soft breathing of the others behind him.
Gaby, next to him, soundlessly asleep, peaceful in her heavy, drug-induced slumber. And the girls, Elise and Vera, snoring farther in the back, unaware that the same people who fed them last night, that poured them cold soft drinks, were now plotting their death.
Or something worse than death. He could think of lots of worse things out there right now that didn’t involve dying.
“How long before they show up?” Marcus had asked.
Soon. Soon…
*
He had no other choice. Maybe Tom and the others had heard him imploring Sarah and were coming right now to make sure he went back to sleep—and this time stayed that way. Even if they weren’t, something else was coming for them.
Either way, he was still stuck in the same situation—shit out of luck.
He looked over at Gaby, then looked behind him at the others again. They hadn’t stirred, didn’t even look as if they had heard anything or were any closer to swimming up from whatever dreams or nightmares they were mired in at the moment. They certainly looked like sweet dreams, judging by the ghost of a smile on Gaby’s lips.
It had to be some kind of drug. Roofies, maybe. The date-rape drug he had heard about on the news. But he thought those drugs worked right away, not hours later. Something like roofies, maybe?
Whatever it was, it was effective. Except on him, because he was the only one who had barely touched his drink during dinner. Josh felt fully alert and wide awake now, and he tried to concentrate on the problem at hand. It was a hell of a problem, too. But he was a smart guy. He could think his way through this. Right? Of course he could.
We are so screwed.
He looked back at Will and Danny. What would they do in his position? Probably try to break the zip ties. How, though? These things were tough bastards. No. Strength wasn’t going to do it here. Will and Danny would know that. So what would they do if they couldn’t break something? How would a pair of ex-Army Rangers get around a problem like this?
God, he wished they would wake up already so he could ask them.
Josh took inventory of the room. It was big, and they had been deposited in the middle. There were no chairs or tables, and the big, expensive-looking chandelier above him wasn’t going to be much help. Most of the walls were still just Sheetrock, with electrical wiring sticking
out everywhere.
He concentrated on his hands. His wrists were almost pressing against one another except for a half-inch space between the two loops, which were tightened by pulling the ends along a roller-lock system in the middle. The straps themselves were white, but the middle section, where the ends passed through, was solid black and looked like an ice cube.
He tried pulling at the zip tie, but it didn’t budge. He gritted his teeth and tried again, this time even harder, but gave up after ten seconds of heavy straining. The zip tie hadn’t moved even a little bit. If anything, it felt like the straps had gotten tighter around his wrists. Was that even possible?
Josh stared at them for a moment.
He couldn’t break the straps, so maybe there was a way around them.
He stared at the plastic device for the longest time, trying to understand how the zip tie itself worked. Everything passed through the block in the center. That much was obvious. But the roller system meant the end of the straps only went one way, pulling the zip inward and around the wrist, and not the other way, which would loosen the straps. Loosening the straps was the goal. But how to achieve it? The retainer block was the key.
He lifted his hands toward him and eyeballed the retainer block up close. Could he break it? How? He could probably smash it with a hammer. If he had a hammer. But why wish for a hammer when he could wish for scissors and just cut the straps? He didn’t have a hammer or scissors, so what did he have?
Eureka!
Brawn wasn’t going to get him out of this, but brains helped him to see his little sliver of hope. Literally. There was just enough space between the strap and the interior walls of the block that if he had something small enough to insert there, he could loosen the roller and slide the strap back instead of forward. That was the key. Finding something small enough to push inside.
Josh glanced around the ballroom again. This time he didn’t think about the things the room didn’t have, but paid attention to what it did offer.
Plenty of debris. There was dirt and chipped wood and dust everywhere along the concrete floor around him.