Page 3 of Where We Ended

My memories of what Silas used to drill into me were rusty and half clips, but I recalled him showing this tactic when he’d returned from one of his trips.

“Hello?”

My voice echoed, bouncing around the empty room, returning to me as though I was an idiot for assuming anyone might answer. The concrete under my feet was cold, which was another reason I had assumed a garage. There was no bay door, or even a slice of light to indicate one was there but tightly closed.

I had no idea how long I had been in here. Except exhaustion hadn’t pulled me under yet, nor had I experienced any intense hunger. So maybe a few hours at best.

My mind pulled up the images of what had led up to getting that text from Silas.

There were explosions going off all over the Stone Rider property…I had gotten a text on my phone from Silas, telling me to go outside and head to our meeting spot in the woods. When I arrived, he wasn’t there. So I waited, sitting with my back against a tree, all while more and more explosions went off, ripping my home from the ground up. Tears slid down my face as I watched the destruction from the distance. The agony over losing the club was nothing compared to the fear I had over losing my friends.

I should have known then that something was off because leaves crunched from somewhere behind me. Silas would never have been so loud. My reflexes were too slow as a hand came from around the tree, holding something to my mouth. I thrashed, trying to pull at the firm grip over my face, but within seconds everything went dark.

I woke up here.

Fear was a fist around my throat, squeezing until I got to my feet and began to move around the room. It helped me visualize how big the space was, and when I finally felt a corner, and began advancing down that wall, it was a small relief because it seemed very much like I was being held in a residential house.

Just to be sure I was right, I grabbed one of the water bottles and tossed it as hard as I could until it hit the far wall. Less than a second.

I did the same thing, but aimed for the ceiling. Two seconds.

Drawing up a mental image, I fell into a crouch and pressed my ear against the wall…hoping for some kind of noise. Nothing.

I refused to accept that there wasn’t something that would trickle through. A motorcycle engine, pans clanking, men laughing or talking. Anything.

I stayed there, until I began drifting off. With my arms wrapped around my knees, I waited until I dozed. My eyes were closed, but even when I opened them, nothing changed.

I was starting to feel lethargic, and my stomach began to growl, which had panic swirling in my chest.

Never get to the point where you’re desperate.

I could hear Silas in my head, going through drills with me on how to get out of situations like this one. We were only ten when we started doing them, but then we stopped.

I’ll be back soon, Caelum…I promise.

I pushed the memories away and focused on my hunger. I was feeling desperate; I needed to take control. Spinning around, feeling the wall for the bottle I’d used to mark the space earlier as a stud, I moved to the left of it and lowered myself to the floor, until I was flat on my back. I made sure to keep my hand over the bottle, so I knew where not to go, and then I shoved both feet as hard as I could toward the wall. I still had on my boots, so the hit landed with a loud echo around the room.

I didn’t wait; I repeated the movement until I felt the wall give.

Drywall caved in around my boots, and I got up, moving to my knees to dig through the hole I’d created. The insulation was going to be a bitch against my skin, but I began tugging it out, until the wall was clear.

Once I was sure it was empty, I felt around and ensured it wasn’t brick or anything solid on the other end, but all I felt was cold concrete.

Anxiety began hovering in my chest, that feeling tightening more and more. I was so confident when I’d woken up, so sure this plan would work. Find the studs, identify the weakest part of the wall. Kick through it. Use whatever you can, there will always be another room you can get into. Silas’ voice was in my head, but I kept coming to a loss for what to do next.

With a shaky breath, I felt the concrete again, now feeling disoriented. The darkness of the room felt like it was closing in around me, so tight I could hardly breathe.

Think, Natty.

Think.

I tried to go through my memories for something more, but all I could manage to focus on was several weeks back when I was out there in our spot, trying to exchange a note with Silas, when I’d been discovered by a random member of a rival club.

He was going to hurt me; he’d told me he was going to hurt me, but I was armed.

Yet, as he advanced, I couldn’t seem to make my brain coordinate with my body. My finger was on the trigger, and the man kept gaining ground, but I couldn’t do it. Silas had walked up behind me and pulled it for me. He’d saved me from a situation I was perfectly capable of saving myself from, but I’d locked up.

There was no motor function at all when fear was calling the shots. I thought I had controlled this…I stupidly assumed that I was like Silas in that way.

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