Page 35 of The Captive Missing

“How long will they keep me here?” She rasped, her throat was so dry.

“Most conscription captives are kept in Isolation for a period of ten days.” The man didn’t make eye contact with her, instead focusing on the flow of fluid through her IV. “Then they’re slowly reintroduced. The transition back can be a hard one.”

She nodded at that, feeling the cold shock of the liquid entering her veins. It flowed along with her blood, pumping through her entire system until it eventually overtook her. Despite her best efforts, the blackness came again, and quickly.

By the time it was all said and done, Val would be revived and put under another three times. The purpose, she later found out, was to recalibrate her system, shrink her stomach, and leave her feeling weak.

Cambric found that conscripted captives often have an unnatural sense of themselves. They’re used to eating more, making choices, defying authority. In order to shape them back into the proper mold of a captive, it helped to break them all the way down first. She was in the beginning stages of that process, now.

Somewhere around the morning of the fifth day, Val was revived and kept awake. Her knees quivered when she tried to stand, muscles trembling after such a long time without use. The male orderly from before had not returned.

Instead there was a woman, a free woman named Tracy who had spiked auburn hair and a round face. A black folding chair had been brought into the room. Tracy sat on it, legs crossed casually as she swiped and tapped at a tablet.

“I’m going to ask you a series of questions and I need your honest answers.”

“May I have a sip of water?” Val’s words scratched inside her mouth.

“After you answer the questions.”

“Okay.”

“Have you given birth since leaving Cambric?”

“No.” Val’s stomach clenched, but she kept her face downcast.

“Were you ever pregnant?”

“No.”

“I’m going to show you a photo and I want you to tell me if you recognize the person.” The woman flipped the tablet around and shoved it close to Val’s face. “Who is he?”

“I don’t know.”

Val’s eyes passed over the photo of her own son. Jace’s school picture again, with his bright smiling expression. She denied knowing him. It made her at once dizzy and sick.

“Are you certain? Look again.”

“I’ve never seen him before in my life.” The words were some of the hardest she’d ever spoken, but she said them clearly while managing to hold Tracy’s appraising stare. “May I please have a drink of water?”

Tracy frowned, but nodded once before rising to leave. She fetched a paper cup half-filled with lukewarm liquid and watched as Val gulped at it greedily. The contents were gone in a split second, and though Val’s mouth longed for more, she knew she wouldn’t get any.

Round and round they went for the rest of the day. After each line of questioning, Val was offered a bit of water or a scrap of food. They kept her strung out. Weak, hungry and thirsty. On the edge is where you get people to confess. On the edge is where people get sloppy.

They asked about Jason, about witness protection, about Kelly Martin. They demanded to know about Gabe and Veronica Durand and pressured her over her interactions with the FBI.

By the time she was allowed to lay back down in bed, she fell asleep quickly. The next day was the same, and the day after that. Through it all, Val stuck to the same story. She never saw Jason after the trial. She wasn’t Kelly Martin, didn’t know who that was. She’d never been pregnant, didn’t have a son, and knew nothing of the FBI.

Most certainly, Cambric knew she was lying. But what else could they do?

Though they didn’t get the confession they sought, their methods were effective. By the time they were finished, their point had been made. They left her needing them, depending on them. She was entirely at their mercy for food, water and comfort.

Val’s personality had never been the first to rebel anyway, so obtaining physical submission from her was not hard. When they told her to get up, she got up. When they told her to sit, she sat. When they bade her get on her knees and stare at the wall, she did so until a tap on her shoulder released her back to her bed.

Finally seeming to find satisfaction, Tracy and her beloved tablet changed up the routine. One morning, Val was allowed to follow her out the door and down the hall. Slightly wobbly, Val teetered close behind Tracy, keeping her eyes focused on the slick cement floor. At the end of the hallway was a door which led to a group shower facility. No one else was around.

Stripping out of her uniform, Val bathed under the cold spray. She washed her hair and body, shaved with a disposable razor then twisted the water off when instructed. Her head spun and her hands trembled with all the activity but Val managed to button herself into a clean grey uniform in silence.

When they left the bathroom, her soaking wet hair dripped a trail along the floor.

---