Page 8 of Light As A Feather
“Well, here I am.” I shrug indifferently. I have nothing to hide and nothing of value to offer. “Who’s we?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Does that mean you’re not going to kill me?”
Captor Two has the audacity to laugh at that. “Kill you? Definitely not.”
“Then what do you want?” Fear ripples through me, for them, for myself. Ivan’s presence is weak, distant for now, but when he comes back, I can’t imagine this will end well. “What’s with the secrecy? I’m no one special.”
“Unfortunately for me, you are.” I don’t appreciate or understand the haughtiness in his voice. “You’ll be looped in whenever the time is right. We have some questions first, though.”
“Ask then.” My own confusion grates my nerves, leaving my patience threadbare.
“What were you doing at McWay Falls?”
“Why don’t you ask the asshole who abducted me? I think it was fairly obvious.”
Oddly enough, he laughs at that. “I guess a better question is, do you want to die?”
The obnoxious ticking of the clock rushes me for an answer. “It’s complicated.”
“Is it? I think it’s pretty simple for most people.”
Letting out a long sigh, I debate whether I even bother to answer. I don’t owe him anything.
“Do you want to die?” He presses again.
Who knows if I’m helping myself or biting myself in the ass by cooperating, but if an answer will shut him up, then I guess it has its benefits. “No. I don’t want to die. There. Happy?”
“Good thing H—that asshole—was there to grab you then.” There’s laughter in his voice again. I’d hardly think interrogation is a funny thing, but I have always struggled with knowing the correct responses in situations, so what do I know?
“I’m not a danger to myself, or you, if that’s what this is about.” The half-truth sinks its teeth into me. “You can untie me.”
“Why? So you can just run off? Do you think I was born yesterday?”
I don’t bother answering.
“What were you doing at McWay Falls?”
“What does it matter? I promise, whoever you think I am, whatever information you think I have, you’re mistaken. I’m no one.”
“That couldn’t be farther from the truth.”
Tension floods the room as the door opens. My interviewer turns to the other person.
“My turn.” I barely make out the distant whisper, but their steps confirm my suspicion that it’s Captor One.
“We were just getting started,” Captor Two argues.
“I’ve got it from here,” Captor One insists, their voice distorted and mechanical.
“Sure you don’t want me to stay for your own good?” A long silence follows, I imagine One glaring at Two. Following another drawn-out silence, sneakers fade in the distance, then the door shuts again.
“So, you have me all to yourself, what now?” I turn to my left, addressing the person standing at my side.
Each step they take is pointed. Their footfalls louder than they were before, their attention directly on me. I’m trapped as they stalk toward me.
Table legs let out a small screech in front of me as they hoist themselves onto it. Then the silence resumes. But even though they don’t say anything, I can nearly hear their thoughts screaming at me. Their questions. Their curiosity. Their anguish?
