Page 11 of When You're Broken
He coughed softly, drawing James’s attention from the dreadful line of “tools” on a rickety table in front of them.A thick-bladed knife, a heavy hammer, rusted pliers, and a plastic bottle of white spirit.The sight made every nerve in Brendan’s body coil with dread.Don’t let him stare at those too long, he told himself.Distract him.
“James, will you look at me?”Brendan asked quietly, mouth dry.“How’re you holding up?”The rope around his chest made inhaling painful, so his words came out more softly than he intended.
James sniffed and rolled his head to one side, his voice cracked and raw.“Does anybody ever hold up okay in a place like this?”A pathetic attempt at a laugh died on his lips.He turned his eyes toward Brendan, exhaling shakily.“Sorry… I’m not used to this.Still trying to figure out… how I got here.”
Brendan resisted the urge to glance at the table.Instead, he forced eye contact.“It’s all right,” he murmured.“Just talk.Sometimes that helps.”And it keeps your mind off… everything else, he thought.
James’s gaze drifted to the grimy floor, where dried stains told silent horror stories.“I’m not sure how long ago I was taken.Everything is hazy.”He took an uneasy breath.“I remember going to pick up groceries—milk and eggs.Then I felt a sharp sting in my shoulder, like an injection.Next thing, I was in some dark room, drifting in and out.He—Wendell—he must’ve been sedating me, because I’d wake up woozy, barely able to form a thought.After that… well, I ended up here with you.”
Brendan nodded in sympathy, ignoring the dryness in his throat.“Same brand of trick with me.He used chloroform, or something like it.Claimed he was checking for a gas leak.Then I blacked out.”
James let a low moan escape.“It’s maddening, not knowing how many days you’ve lost.”His eyes flicked over to the table, resting on the handle of that large knife.Panic swam behind his exhausted stare.He tried to swallow, but the dryness made him cough.“He… he’s going to use those on us, isn’t he?”
Brendan’s stomach clenched.He flicked his gaze away from the tools.“Don’t think about that,” he urged.“He’s probably just trying to scare us.Focus on anything else.Tell me about yourself.”
James almost laughed, a shaky noise that bordered on a sob.But he seized the lifeline.“All right,” he whispered.“What do you want to know?”
Brendan tried to settle his breathing.The ropes cut into his skin again when he shifted, but he had to keep James from diving too deep into despair.“Family, maybe?Someone who might be looking for you out there.”He forced an encouraging tone.
James’s expression shadowed, fresh tears brimming at the corners of his swollen eyes.“Family… yeah, I— I did have one.A sister.She died a few years ago.My parents are gone, too.”
Brendan’s heart twisted.“God, I’m sorry.”
James nodded stiffly, tears slipping across the cut on his cheek.“It’s all right.I guess in a place like this, everyone’s got a sad story, right?”He forced a trembling exhale.“The only person I have left is my brother, Stanley.He’s… we’re not super close, but we keep track of each other.”A fleeting flicker of hope sparked, then died.“He’s all I got.If I don’t make it out of here—”
“Don’t say that,” Brendan cut in, voice rough with unspent emotion.“You will get out.You’ll see your brother again.”
James sniffed, the attempt at hope fading quickly.“You sure about that?”
Brendan clenched his jaw.He’s right to question it.“We have to believe it,” he said quietly.“If we don’t, we might as well hand Wendell a victory.”He swallowed, feeling a throb in the back of his skull.“I’d give anything to see my parents right now, too, you know.They must be worried sick.”
James blinked, pivoting the conversation.“Your parents… so you have a family?”
Brendan nodded.“Mum and Dad.They’re older but strong.Good people.They adopted me when I was just a kid.”He paused, lips twitching with a sad half-smile.“I also have a sister.She’s out there, somewhere.I always wanted to find her… well, find her properly, I mean.We got separated when we were small.”
James’s battered face showed a flicker of curiosity.“Separated?”
A hollow ache opened in Brendan’s chest.“Our folks had… problems.They were addicted to something.Social services took us away.I got adopted, but my sister ended up in another arrangement.We never reconnected.”The words came out haltingly.He rarely voiced this story, and the squalid basement hardly felt like the place for personal confessions.Yet the dire mood compelled honesty.
James nodded solemnly.“I see.I guess you do understand about losing family.”
“Yeah.And hopefully finding it again.”Brendan forced an unsteady grin.“Hope’s what keeps me breathing in here, you know?I keep thinking… if we make it out, I’ll finally track her down.Or she’ll find me one day and appear at my door with a big smile and a hug.”He let out a small, ironic chuckle that contained more fear than humor.“I know that sounds like fantasy...”
James let silence stretch.Drips in the corner set a grim tempo.Then he murmured, “If you do get out, you should definitely find her.Why waste time?That’s… that’s what I’d do if I had a living relative out there.”His gaze dropped.“All I’ve got is my brother Stanley, and I never told him half the stuff I wish I had.”
Brendan’s throat tightened.“You’re right.If we… if we get out, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”He tried to summon a steadiness in his voice, for James’s sake.“Funny how regret surfaces when your time might be up, right?”
James swallowed.“Yeah.”
A hush fell, both men absorbing their thoughts.The table with the hammer and knife loomed in their periphery.The thick smell of dread wafted around them, made worse by the knowledge that Wendell enjoyed theatrics.He’d likely come back soon.
Sure enough, after a few heartbeats, the door at the far end of the basement banged open.Light from the corridor speared inside, throwing Wendell’s silhouette across the floor.A shock of black hair framed his face, though he wore a surgical mask and rubber gloves that gave him a ghastly, clinical air.He strolled in with an unsettling cheer, eyes glinting behind that plain mask.
Brendan’s stomach plummeted.Again, he’s back.He couldn’t hide the tension in his shoulders.James stiffened, letting out a small whimper.
Wendell closed the door behind him with a theatrical flourish.“Ah, my patients,” he said, voice muffled slightly by the mask but still oozing false warmth.He tapped gloved fingers together.“The doctor is ready to see you.Hope you’ve had a nice little chat while I was gone.Getting acquainted, yes?”
Neither prisoner spoke.Brendan’s skin prickled with the knowledge that any sudden defiance might trigger Wendell’s cruelty.He tried to keep James calm, shooting him a glance.James’s face had drained of color.
