Page 35 of Trapped: Until The Darkest Of Night

That evening, I almost make it to Johnsons Crossing, the place where I have to get off the highway to get to my property.

I park the camper on a forest path, grab a small bottle of water, and go to Lou in the sleeping area. She sits in the dark, huddled against the back wall.

“You didn’t turn the light on,” I state, nodding to the light switch just in case she didn’t see it. “The chain’s long enough.”

She doesn’t say anything, just stares straight ahead. I pretend not to notice her rejection and push my way past the bed toward the window. She immediately slides to the other side.

I suppress a sigh and pull the shade up. Moonlight floods the bed like a gush of silver water. “Brought you a drink.” I hold the bottle out to her. “Just water for now, it’s less likely to make you sick. That was how it was for me anyway.”

“For you?”

She didn’t mean to ask that, I can see it—I too thought for a long time if I should mention it at all. I smile. “I tested the chloroform on myself. I mean, I was trying to knock you out, not kill you.”

She looks at me blankly like I’m even crazier than she ever imagined. She ignores the bottle in a way that looks strained.

“Water was always easier to keep down afterward.”

“You did it more than once?” Her tone reflects what she really wants to say. You’re crazy, you freaking psycho!

“Four times.” I shrug with deliberate indifference. It was necessary, I did it, as I have done many things in my life out of necessity. Gather food from the garbage and sleep on the street in the pouring rain, hoping nobody stabs me in my sleep.

I take a step toward the bed and extend my arm further in her direction. “Drink!” I say somewhat impatient because she still doesn’t reach for the bottle.

“If I don’t, are you going to force it down my throat?” she hisses through clenched teeth.

Only now do I realize how desperately she clutches the iron chain. The ghostly bright moonlight breaks against her face and the soap residue makes it appear waxy. I pull back the water bottle. “If it helps keep you alive.”

She closes her eyes and her hand holding the chain relaxes a little. What did I say just now that calmed her down?

“So I’m supposed to stay alive?”

Ah that! “Of course. What, you thought I would go through all this trouble just to kill you?”

“Maybe you’re going to do it later.”

“Or maybe never. Now drink!” I look down at her, not sure how to get her to do what is good for her. “Please,” I finally bring myself to say and I am surprised at how it comes out of my mouth. I haven’t asked for anything in years.

This tiny little word expands in space as if it has more power than chains and makes her open her eyes. Her gaze darts back and forth a few times. From me to the bottle, from the bottle to me.

“You first,” she whispers harshly. That’s when I understand she’s afraid I might have added some other drug to it. Possibly knockout drops to make her compliant.

As if I need to! Here in the wilderness, I wouldn’t even have to sedate you, nobody would hear you anyway.

Nevertheless, I shake the water and take a sip before I hand her the bottle.

Lou drinks hastily as if unsure when she will get more. After she has drunk half of it, I take the bottle away from her.

“That’s enough.” She looks up at me, her eyes bright with fever, she’s still thirsty. “You can have more later,” I promise quickly and nod to the door of the shower stall. “Do you want to shower?”

“No.” She might as well have said get lost.

“It smells like a puma cage in here,” I try to joke. I haven’t done that in years either.

She looks down at herself furtively. “Don’t care.”

I sigh loudly. “You’re still afraid I’m going to hurt you.”

She pulls her legs up and wraps her arms protectively around her knees as if hiding from me. “Why else would I be here?” she whispers, avoiding my gaze.

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