Page 41 of No Capes
I down the rest. The piercing pain instantly vanishes from my head, and my body aches less and less.This is some fancy water.A normal human being can survive without consuming water for 72 hours, but I’ve always felt like my limit is much lower. I could probably only go for ten. Ten and a half at the most.
I stand, feeling strong enough to use my wobbly legs. My first question for the man is,Where did you get that bowler hat?That classy cliché thatof coursean evil kidnapper would wear. But I don’t ask that. “Who are you?” I demand, “Why am I here?”
“Interesting,” the man muses. He takes four more water bottles from his pockets and places them on the ground. He tosses me one.Sheesh, how many does he have in there?“I want you to clean up.”
“What?”
The man’s eyes shine like a child watching a magician. “Pour some onto your face and hands,” he instructs.
“Why?”
“Because you’re trapped in a cell and I have a gun,” he replies, as if it were obvious.
Touché. Do what the man says,I force myself to comply.
Palms sweating, I lift the second water bottle over my head and tilt it to rain down on me. Drops run across my face, weighing down my hair. I shiver when it hits my neck. The icy liquid fights my elevated heart rate.
“Madeline Roberts, you’re positively glowing.”
That’s it. No more of this creepy, sadistic business.
“How do you know my name?” My heart bangs in my ears, which have filled with fluid. An iridescent haze glows over my vision, and a screeching wail fills the cell, like nails on a chalkboard into a megaphone.
SCREEEEEEEECH.
Steam tickles my nose, like stepping out of the tub after a long shower, and a sudden, explosive blast throws me against the stone wall.
BOOM.
I close my eyes to keep the dirt out. When the banging in my ears subsides, I try to catch my breath. Uneven stones challenge my balance, but I will my knees to lock together and hoist myself up.
Thick smoke spirals through the room, and the underground prison is completely trashed. Dusty debris piles everywhere. The bars from my cell are scattered along the ground, and one of them impales the criminal right through the breast-pocket of his vest. Dark liquid pools around his body.
Blood.
What the…?
CRASH.Glass breaks from somewhere on the floor above me. I see the corner of the prison has a stone staircase leading… somewhere. Although the shiny-shoed man is pushing up daisies, it appears I still have company. I run from the remnants of my cell and tuck into a crevice beneath the stairs. My obscene headache catches back up to me, its pounding matching the footsteps directly overhead. I stop breathing. Someone’s coming.
“Where do you think she is?” A low voice mutters.
I curl into a tight ball, squeezing my legs to become as tiny as possible. “If I were her,” a second person replies, “and I’dsurvived, I’d either run or hide. Going off the state of this place, running seems… unlikely.”
CRASH. They turn something from the debris over, scattering dirt and dust throughout the room. Steam curls off the walls and tickles the back of my throat.Don’t you dare cough, Mads.
“Stop,” the same person commands, “She’s gotta be terrified enough already.”
“Yo,” the first guy shouts, “Dude, look.” Fear freezes the blood in my veins.
I’ve learned two things:
The people here are men.
