Page 19 of All The Way Under
“What’s your name?” he says, smirking.
I can tell I’ve caught him off guard. Like I tripped him up in some way. It’s exhilarating.
I don’t even want to tell him, but that feels too juvenile given our circumstances. If I’d met Brody in the wild, I’d have walked away from him without a word the first time he opened his mouth. I’m not his type.
“Saylor.” Then I spell it, because that’s what I always do. My mom had to spell it aspecialway.
“Like a boat?” he asks, amusement lighting his face. “Like your hobby? Am I adding lying to the list of things you’re good at, or do your parents hate you that much?”
Scowling, I let my mouth open.
“You will not speak to me like that,” I snap. “There’s no reason for you to be this hateful!”
“Getting taken from a boat I hate, riding in another boat I hate, landing here at a place filled with bugs and whatever that animal is that won’t stop screeching, I also hate, being put in a cage that anyone would hate, and being trapped with a woman who thinks she knows it all, but also got captured, isn’t a really great place for my personality to shine. Admit, at least, it’s ironic you were named after something that will lead to your death.”
“I can’t believe you said that.” I shake my head, wondering if he was dropped as an infant.
He might be the single most awful human I’ve ever met, and let me tell you, I’ve met a lot of people.
“My father named me after his passion. The one thing he loved other than my mother. I love my name even if you deem it ironic. I don’t plan on dying here with a man who has no manners, class, or intelligence.”
I whiffed on the last one, because it’s obvious Brody isn’t a run-of-the-mill idiot. He’s educated. I can tell. That makes it a little worse.
“Your parents must be so proud that you treat women like this. I bet they brag to all their friends. And the screeching, it’s a lemur,” I say smugly.
He has the good sense to appear mildly embarrassed. Ah, so he does care about his parents. Noted.
“You’re right,” he says. “I shouldn’t have said that.” He doesn’t apologize, though. “If we have to share this space, we should be cordial.”
His gaze wanders back to the door of the cage, where the last torch is almost burned out. The walls and floor are made of a hard mud substance, which makes me think it could cave in any second.
“Is there a bathroom in here? I have to take a leak.”
I grin. “Let the fun begin, roomie. Behind the half wall behind me is a hole in the ground. Our gracious hosts did put a roll of the thinnest toilet paper known to man in there. They told me I should be grateful.”
Brody stands, stretching his arms over his chest, and pulling his knees up and down. The sedative causes soreness, and I feel a little bad for him that he’s experiencing it for the first time, but he’s barely even human in his conscious form, so it’s hard to express that.
“Figure out where you want to sleep,” he says, stepping next to me and back behind the mud wall. He laughs when he sees the hole and makes a joke about digging out of the side of the wall.
“The whole structure would collapse, suffocating us. It was the first thing I thought of. We need to work on the other plan of being released during the day so we can explore and see where we are and what we can do to get out of here. Maybe I can find my satellite phone they stole off me when they drugged me.”
I lay down with my head on my balled-up rain jacket.
“Maybe I can kill a couple more of them while I’m at it, really make some noise.”
He zips up his fly. I hear it, and then he says, “We aren’t killing anyone. That’s counterintuitive to getting them on our good side.” He pauses. “Actually, you go ahead and kill people. That will make me look that much better, and not only will I get free time, but I might also get my own cage. They’ll be worried you’ll kill me too.”
“Were you born this annoying, or isworks poorly with otherson your report card?” I ask. “It was a joke. I’m not going to kill anyone else, and especially not you, even though you might deserve it at this point.”
He steps over me and lies down, propping his head on his hands. He exhales noisily, but keeps his eyes open, focused on the metal bars of the door.
“Gets shit doneis on my report card, baby. Now go to sleep. We don’t need a cranky, screaming Saylor.”
“Was that a joke?” I ask. It would be a step up from an insult at this point.
Brody smacks his lips. “I wouldn’t joke about something so serious.”
“Did you just call me baby?” I say, roasting everything he just said because it wasn’t offensive.
