Page 68 of Marked

Vince blanches. “I didn’t mean to insult your girl.”

“Insult her?” Zack laughs, but there’s no joy. Vince has opened the gate and Zack’s beast is coming out. “Of all the things you’ve done to her, you think an insult is going to be the thing that gets you killed?”

“I’m trying to help you out!” He’s panicking now, wiggling more and more, trying to get out of the ropes. But Zack ties a good a knot. There will be no escape.

“We need one more thing from you.” I move to stand behind him. “You said you’re picking up product tomorrow.” I put my hands on his shoulders. The tip of my knife brushes against the open wounds on his neck.

“Where?” Zack asks.

“You want to know that, you gotta promise to let me go,” Vince tries to bargain. A horrible move on his part. Zack doesn’t make deals with monsters.

“You are a stubborn prick, you know that?” Zack gives an empty laugh. “Here’s the deal. You like buying and selling things, right? You make your money doing that. So, here’s what we’re going to do.” He turns and points at the digital camera he set up that’s aimed at us.

“What the fuck is that?” Vince whispers.

“Nothing yet. But I’m gonna turn it on and then we’re going to take orders.” He points to the laptop sitting on a folding table next to the camera. “And when there’s an order for your toe, I’ll cut off your toe. When there’s an order for your thumb, I’ll take the thumb. Are you getting what I’m saying here, Vince?”

Vince’s chest heaves. “You’re sick,” he whines.

“Sick of you? Yes. Sick of the monsters in this world? Fuck yes.” Zack moves to the computer and turns it around so we can see the screen. “Just need to open the store. Looks like there’s already about fifty fuckers in queue to sign in.”

“Now.” I squeeze his shoulders. “Where’s theproduct, Vince?”

“Girls?” Mom’s hoarse voice wakes me from what light sleep I’ve been able to find.

Rolling my head back, I try to focus on her. It’s been dark for so long now; I can see pretty well through it.

“Yeah, Mom?” My sister’s voice is getting weaker. She’s getting weaker as the time passes. I reach over to her, sliding my hand through the dirt and grime covering the cement floor. When our fingers touch, she flinches.

“It’s just me.” I cover her hand, squeezing it. She’s taken so much more of the abuse. They consider her the pretty one.

Between the two of us, everyone’s always thought she was the prettiest, and I’ve always thought it was my curse.

“I don’t think they’re coming back,” Mom says. “We should try to get to get these chains off again.”

“I’m tired,” my sister whispers. “I’m so tired.”

“I know, sweetie, but we have to get to the door,” Mom directs us. “Maybe if we all grab hold of one chain, we can break it?”

“We tried that already,” I point out. Mom’s triedto keep us talking, to keep us aware, but it seems her mind has started to slip.

Going this long without any light. Not knowing what time or what day it is. It’s bound to mess with our minds.

“It’s been days, I think,” I say, squeezing my sister’s hand again. “But we’ll be okay. They’ll come in and give us water.” I’m not so sure about that anymore, though. They’ve never gone this long without bringing us at least a peanut butter sandwich, and a bottle of water.

“We’re no good to them dead.” My sister repeats my words back to me, and tightens her grip around my hand.

She’s gotten so weak.

“How is your side?” I lean toward her, trying to feel down her ribcage, but she’s too far away. We’re only able to touch hands when we stretch the chains out to the max.

“It’s fine. I promise.” She laughs. “I’ve been meaning to lose a few pounds anyway.” The little joke gives me hope she’s not too far gone. They haven’t beaten her soul.

“I’m so sorry, girls.” Mom’s sob breaks her sentence. “I don’t understand why this happened. I don’t understand.”

“It’s all right, Mom.” I let go of Jackie and scoot over to my mom, reaching as far as I can until I can touch her. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is.” She pulls her hand away. “It’s my fault. I can’t believe this happened.”

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