by Katie May
That was how my mom died. Walking home from the grocery store just after it had gotten dark.
My stomach tightened at the memory, emotions I intended to keep compressed rising up to meet me head on. I pushed them away stubbornly, focusing instead on B and Tanner. They appeared to be in a standoff, her eyes locked on his.
“Please, wait,” Tanner said. “If you’re going to leave, give it five minutes.”
Five minutes. The professors wouldn’t be in the general vicinity of her dorm room at that time.
She continued to stare at him as the time went on. Slow. Like molasses. She didn’t say anything during that time, not even to Beau, who was staring at her so helplessly and despondently I felt for the bastard. I honestly did. Anyone with eyes could see that he was desperately in love with her. At the same time, I understood why Bianaca was fucking pissed.
When Tanner nodded, eloquently telling her she was okay to leave, Bianaca turned briskly and exited the shed. She didn’t bother to glance back.
Only when she had disappeared from view did Aiden explode, knocking the desk over with a growl.
“Fucking shit!” he cursed. His eyes remained locked on the door as if he was expecting her to make a grand reappearance.
“You shouldn’t have said you didn’t believe her,” Tanner pointed out softly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Languidly, he put one to his lips, lit it with his lighter, and took a long inhale. “You sounded like a condescending asshole. And Beau…” He turned toward the newest recruit of our little escape group. “You’re just a regular asshole.”
I snorted out a laugh, muffling it when two pairs of eyes directed their glares at me.
“But monsters? Really?” Aiden asked.
“Do you think something happened to her?” Beau piped up. His voice was raspy from years of silence, but his eyes were sharp. Protectiveness and possessiveness emanated from every pore in his body. The two Ps of a relationship.
“In a place this fucked up?” Tanner blew out some smoke. “Yeah.”
Beau’s hands curled into fists.
“We need to get her the fuck out of here,” he said resolutely. Tanner lazily cast his eyes toward the tall man.
“Or maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe there is a monster here,” he drawled. When we all stared at him with varying expressions of disbelief, he shrugged. “What? We all already know this school isn’t normal.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that.
“No sense worrying about it anymore. We’re leaving in a few days, and I’ll kidnap the damn girl if I have to. I couldn’t save my sister, but I’ll be damned if something happens to Bianaca.” Aiden’s voice was fierce, once more proving why he was the leader of our merry band of friends.
Seeming to come to a general consensus, we grabbed our gear off the floor and headed down the staircase.
The tunnel always gave me the creeps. Why was it there?
How did the professors, who seemed to know about everything, fail to realize there was a whole set of fucking tunnels that snaked beneath the wall?
Would we even escape, or would we end up right back where we started?
And who had tried to escape before us? What happened to them?
Questions bombarded me as I began the tireless task of hammering down the wall. I couldn’t quite concentrate on any one thing. Senseless chatter from the other three men floated through one ear and out the other. Questions. Questions. And more questions.
And now, the biggest one: what the hell had Bianaca seen? Did that asshole Dylan have something to do with the terror in her eyes, the whitening of her face, the clenching of her hands?
Distantly, I was aware of someone screaming my name. Rough hands grabbed me, yanking me backward, just as the wall collapsed.
Dirt and rocks flew everywhere, and I lifted my hands to cover my face. Smoky sand infiltrated my nostrils, and I coughed violently, turning my face away.
“Motherfucking…” Aiden cursed.
“Shit,” Tanner agreed, eyes wide with awe and voice almost reverent.
I turned, shocked to see it was Beau of all people who had pulled me away. He was staring intensely at the now demolished wall.
Because behind the wall were more tunnels. Dozens of them. Branching in numerous directions. One tunnel led to two and another led to three. From there, they branched off even farther. It was a never ending labyrinth of grit, rocky walls, and dirt.
“We did it!” Aiden jumped to his feet, eyes bright with excitement. That light had only come into his eyes two times before: with his sister, Josie, and now with Bianaca.
Only I doubted he felt brotherly affection toward the petite, voluptuous blond.
As one, the men burst into celebratory cheer. The usual slaps-on-the-back, shouts, and promises of alcohol. My eyes, however, remained fixed on the dark passageway. The light from my flashlight barely chased away the shadows directly in front of me. Everything was doused in a black sheen.
Tentatively, I ambled back to my feet and brushed dirt off my pants. Each step felt monumental as I walked away from my brothers and into the darkness. My light caught on the wooden boards making up the ceiling and proving that this tunnel was definitely man-made.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
My heart hammered, and something akin to fear bubbled up inside of me. I was a damn kettle sitting on a stove, hissing and wheezing until it eventually erupted.
Four steps.
Five steps.
I willed the light to chase away more shadows, but darkness continued to cling to the walls and ceiling. This impenetrable darkness was as monotonous as a starless sky. My feet were heavy, my body reluctant to continue its travels.
Six steps.
Seven steps.
Something moved to the right of me, and I spun, light spinning wildly. It might’ve been my imagination, my fear manifesting itself physically, my flashlight playing tricks on me, but it almost looked as if a figure moved in the darkness.
For a brief moment, I wondered if we were alone.
A hand slapped down on my shoulder, and I jerked, pulling my arm back to punch the intruder square in the face. Aiden ducked just in time.
“What the fuck, man?” he cursed, restraining me easily. I berated myself for being such a pussy. B’s story about monsters had obviously fucked with my head.
There was no way monsters lived in these tunnels.
“Sorry,” I said sheepishly. “You scared me.”
Aiden continued to eye me warily before he eventually nodded. He was never one to prod—unless it had to do with Bianaca. Then he prodded away like a mad scientist.
“Alright. But I was just saying you shouldn’t be wandering these tunnels before we know where they lead. The last thing we need is for you to get lost.”
I nodded my head absently, his words making sense but not overly registering. My mind was still transfixed on the shadow I had seen moving in one of the tunnels.
It was just a play of the light. That was the only logical explanation.
I repeated that thought in my head like a mantra. A prayer. A damn life motto.
“We fucking did it,” Aiden said with a curl of his lips. For Aiden, that was practically a full-blown smile. “Months of work finally paid off.”
Beau and Tanner were beaming as well, and Tanner reached down to grab a rock. He held it up as if it were a glass of wine.
“This deserves a toast,” he said. Beau and Aiden both grabbed a rock off the ground, and after a minute of staring at them all like an imbecile, I grabbed one as well. “To getting the fuck out of here.”
“To getting the fuck out of here,” we all chanted, clinking the rocks together.
My stomach was a clamorous mixture of dread and exhilaration. Were we escaping one prison just to find ourselves in another? Were we escaping one set of monsters just to find new ones?
We arrived at our rooms early the next
morning, the sun painting the sky in palest pink, orange, and light green tones. After our initial celebration, we began to plan.
When to leave.
When to explore.
When to torture the information out of Heath, the class president.
Because, yes, we were willing to do that. We were willing to do anything if it meant leaving this fucking school.
And, of course, there was Bianaca’s confession. It settled heavily in the air, this ominous cloud that threatened rain.
For some inexplicable reason, her words rang true. It was as if you saw someone you hadn’t seen in years on the other side of a room. The name rested on the tip of your tongue, and you debated calling out. Eventually, you decided to remain quiet in fear you accidentally said the wrong name.
Crawling underneath my covers, Bianaca’s words reverberating through my body, I fell asleep thinking of monsters.
I punched at the mirror, reveling in the gratifying sound of glass shattering. My knuckles were red, skin peeled, but I relished in the pain. Allowed it to curl up around me like a warm blanket.
My reflection, distorted through the mirror, showed a man with garnet red hair wildly disheveled and dark bags beneath both his eyes. His skin was sunken and pale.
Frankly, he looked like shit.
I looked like fucking shit.
Pressing my lips into a thin line, I glanced down at the orange bottle of pills. They were supposed to help with my bipolar disorder, but it only served to make me tired. Drowsy. Weak.
My hand was shaking as I picked up the bottle and faced my horrid reflection in the mirror. I was a shell of the man I once was. A carcass. My painted on smile couldn’t hide the dead man underneath. Or, at the very least, a soon-to-be dead man.
I could still hear their taunts.
“The world will be better off without you in it.”
“Freak.”
“Weirdo.”
Moving slowly, I emerged back in my bedroom. The dresser had been demolished, lying in a heap of distressed wood and sharp stakes. The bed’s headboard was broken as well. Not even my room was capable of escaping my destruction. My temper.
I knew I was being reckless, stupid, but I didn’t see a point of holding on anymore. I had been gripping a thin branch for years that hung precariously over a chasm. My muscles were cramping, sweat clung to my skin, and my fingers ached from how sharply they grasped the branch. I was just so tired of fighting a battle I knew I wouldn’t win.
I grabbed my phone and shuffled through my playlist, choosing a haunting melody. It seemed fitting, somehow, to play a song that reminisced on life and death in my final moments. With a sob, I shoved my face into my pillow and allowed scream after scream to leave my body. I knew no one would hear. Nobody ever heard.
And if they heard, they didn’t care.
Didn’t. Fucking. Care.
My heart was hammering a mile a minute, my thoughts in a race against the damn organ, but my hand was steady as I brought the pill bottle to my lips. With a dramatic flourish, as if I was downing an alcoholic shot, I consumed the pills.
Maybe, just maybe, relief would come.
I woke with a start, head pounding. What the…?
It was the dream again. The same recurring dream I’d been having every night since I’d arrived at the school. These dreams taunted me, consumed me, pulled me under icy wave after icy wave until all I could beg for was death.
I scrubbed a hand down my face. Fucking hell.
I no longer cared what hell faced us once we made it out of this school. Nothing could be worse than this—losing a battle against your own mind.
22
Bianaca
After a fitful sleep, I woke up the next morning feeling achy and confused. The conversation—confrontation—with the boys had left me physically and mentally drained. It took all my self-control to leave them, to not run back to them as I so desperately wanted.
Groaning, I glanced at my alarm clock to see it was a little after nine. Breakfast would be starting, and my stomach gave a little grumble as if agreeing with my mind that it was past my feeding time.
A girl needed to eat.
Dressing quickly in the standard uniform, I made my way to the cafeteria. This time, I wasn’t accosted by Kelly, trampled by a swarm of professors, or stared at intensely by four guys more sinful than angelic.
When I arrived in the cafeteria, I was stunned to see the guys’ usual table was empty. I tried to smother down the heartache I felt at their absence, hardening my resolve to distance myself from them.
Aiden had looked at me as if I was crazy and had accused me of murder. Kace had destroyed all my clothes. Tanner had teased me, used me, and then discarded me. And Beau…
Well…
His betrayal hurt the most.
I scarfed down the food, inhaled it, thankful for the antidote the guys forced to me drink, before moving back to my bedroom and changing into my teal leotard. I needed to work off this excess energy. I needed to escape my own insistent thoughts.
Quickly, I braided back my blond hair and wrapped it in a tight bun. It was crucial in gymnastics not to have hair loose you could step on during your tricks.
After slipping back on my uniform, I made my way to the gym. At this time of day, it was crowded. Boys, and a few girls, used the equipment efficiently. The smell of sweat permeated the air, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. These were people who worked hard and played even harder. I couldn’t help but respect them and the sweat they shed.
I wouldn’t be able to do my full routine in a room this crowded, but I found a corner on the mat I had used the first day. Stripping out of my school uniform, I smiled smugly at the eyes I could feel caressing my skin.
Now, if only a certain four guys would look at me that way…
Shaking my head vehemently, I dropped to the ground and kicked my legs out into the splits. I bent over until my nose touched my toes.
My thoughts, however, weren’t on my exercises, the pounding music reverberating through the building, or the hungry looks from a group of men jogging on the track around the mat.
No, my damn, traitorous thoughts were fixated on the conversation in the shed.
Escape.
That word made me feel warm and fuzzy, worth a thousand orgasms. I would give anything to escape. Anything.
Since I arrived here, fear had clouded my every waking moment. And sleeping moment, if I was being completely honest. From the students being forcibly removed to Kelly showing me a monster eating a student, I couldn’t differentiate between what was real and what was a product of my own mind.
Would their plan work? Was it possible for us to leave the school?
And where would we even go? The police?
Not one of us had the answer to that, but…
But we knew someone who did.
My eyes flickered to where Heath stepped off a treadmill in the other room wiping sweat off his brow. Only a thin slate of glass separated us.
As I watched, transfixed, he brought his shirt up to wipe at his face, and I got a view of his chiseled, golden abs. He dropped his shirt and raised his head, meeting my eyes through the glass window.
My face flamed, tips of my ears burning, at being caught staring at him like some perverted voyeur.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Slowly, heart racing, I lifted my eyes back to where I had seen Heath.
He was gone, thank God. Maybe he hadn’t noticed me. Maybe he hadn’t seen me. Maybe he hadn’t—
“It’s rude to stare,” a calm voice said from above me. “And it’s even ruder to quickly look away and pretend you weren’t staring.”
Wincing, I turned toward the voice despite already knowing who I would see. Heath stood above me, hands in the pockets of his low-slung basketball shorts. His brown hair was brushed back from his arresting face. The smile was back yet again—the smile so painfully fake it physically hurt me.
He reminded me of one of those politicians I alway
s saw on television. Fake smile, immaculately dressed, the epitome of perfection…but a darkness in his eyes.
Despite that darkness, I didn’t feel uneasy around him. I should’ve—he looked like a damn psychopath with that blindingly white smile—but I didn’t.
Maybe someone disrupted my programming.
Aiden’s proposition flitted through my mind.
Flirt.
Discover what he knows.
“Sorry,” I said, the blush that darkened my face not at all an act. “I didn’t mean to, you know, stare.”
He flashed me another one of those smiles.
“I would’ve stared too if I had noticed you. What’s your name, doll?”
Doll. I normally hated pet names, but I couldn’t help the strange thrill that zinged through me at that one word. He probably said it to everyone. Probably had a whole arsenal of nicknames at his disposal. I was nothing special, I knew that, but that one nickname…
“Bianaca,” I answered, extending a hand. He shocked the fuck out of me when he brought my hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss on the sensitive skin.
“Bianaca.” His eyes turned contemplative as he tested the name out, swirling it on his tongue. Goosebumps pebbled on my arms. “I’m Heath.”
“I know,” I replied immediately. Stupidly.
Way to not look like a creeper, B.
Inappropriately, I wanted to add that I commonly stood over his bed eating cereal while he slept, but I figured we weren’t at that level yet.
Something flickered in his eyes at my confession, but it was there and gone before I could process it. His smile never once wavered from his face.
“That makes sense,” he said at last.
“What does?”
“Why you were looking at me.”
I was so lost.
My confusion must’ve been evident, for Heath took a step closer. He practically emitted heat in palpable waves.
“You want information,” he whispered conspiratorially. His smile blinded me.