Page 84 of Dirty Behavior

Ivy

Iwasn'tsure how many of Remo's men were hidden away inside the mousetrap of halls. I knew I had taken a wrong turn somewhere, I just had to figure out where. A left led me into a funnel of locked doors, a right led me into a tunnel of nothing but cement blocks.

My sense of direction was off, the internal compass I had come to trust was broken. I was lost. I kept my feet light and my ears open. I listened before I walked, I glanced before I turned.

But it got me nowhere.

I had circled around at one point, landing back at a crossroad of two halls, and one sad looking indoor tree.The same limp, dusty tree I had already seen two other times.

No!

I need to get out!

Kicking the dirty terracotta base, I threw my hands into my hair, yanking it tight against my scalp. Everything looked the same, all the walls, all the floors, even the damn lights; same same same.

There wasn't a bulb that shined brighter, a wall that held stains of a darker shade, nothing. I was in a horror house full of mirrors, all drawing me deeper and deeper into its belly.

Leaning against the wall, I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm my nerves. I wasn't going to be able to think straight if I let myself get worked up. The numbers came and went, the controlled inhales and exhales were shorter and less helpful.

I was drowning in endless defeat, unsure I'd ever be able to make my way out of the hell Remo called the yard.

Dragging the toe of my foot against the floor, it scuffed the gray in a black tattoo. And as the charcoal line came to life, so did an idea.

I can track where I went.

The rubber sole of my shoe could help guide me. If I could leave small marks of where I had been, it could open the doors to where I hadn't gone.

Yes!

A trail of crumbs was all I needed. It wouldn't lead me home, but it could lead me to new territory. I'd be able know where I had been and where I needed to go next. I could mark my existence in one hall and find the path that had been eluding me all along; the exit.

Dragging my foot at the next turn, I stayed right. My pace was quick, but silent. I wanted to go unseen and unheard. My self-trained restraint to be lighter than air came back in full force.

My body was heavy, but my feet were a faint whisper against the floor, and I was on the move.

I finally felt like I had a chance. When everything around me was screaming to just give up, to sit and wait for someone to find me, my brain was able to reach deep down and grasp something I had tried to forget.

Step after step, I floated through the corridors. Scuffing and dropping my breadcrumbs, keeping my marks close to the wall so no one else would see them.

And finally, after a few wrap-around turns and dead ends, I came to a hall I hadn't been down. Running my fingers against the dips and nooks in the stone blocks, I heard a voice. Standing still, I turned my head to listen, pressing my palms against the cold cement.

It started off small, filling the hall like glue mending cracks in a porcelain vase. It was soft and hard, rising up and falling down. The melody of different tones skipped through the air like a stone on water.

There were two voices. A mix of conversation and refusal. One voice would go off, riding the musty air and falling flat. The other voice was quiet, muffled and thin. I couldn't tell who was talking, I couldn't pick out one man from another.

But I knew from the sudden thud and disappearance of the second voice that it wasn't a room I wanted to try. The orchestra of sound had turned off, a lone violin strummed a solo for no one else to hear.

One voice towered out full of bass and triumph.

And as I stood there, focusing all my energy on what was going on, a thick set of hands ripped me from the muddied song.

“Well, well, well.” Spinning me around, Remo opened his mouth to purge a sickening grin. “Look what I found. And just in time too, you almost missed the main event.” Snatching my wrist, he stormed towards where the voices had started.

Dropping to my hunches, I tried to pull away. “Let me go! Let me go!” Screaming, I scratched at his arms, attempting to bite his wrist.

He was dead locked on me, squeezing to the point my fingers were going numb. “Not this time, not ever again.” His voice lashed across my face as he stormed towards a closed door. “I want you to see what I'm about to do, I want you to watch and learn that you can never get away from me.”

Grazing the metal door with the back of his hand, Remo tugged me up on my feet. I kept trying to drop down, to force him to have to open his fingers to grip me better. But he wasn't letting go.

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