Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Kylie
It was hot. Since the air conditioner never kicked on, I figured my initial assumption that there was no power to the house was accurate.
Even at night, I couldn’t see any light beneath the door.
Or out the windows. The only airflow that came into the room was through the cracks in the floor.
It was hot air, though, not at all comforting.
After surveying my space and weighing my options, I’d spent the better part of a week sweating and dozing.
I figured the latter had to do with the heat.
Maybe partially from a lack of nutrients.
Since I wasn’t keen on using the red bucket, I had only taken a few nibbles from one of the protein bars.
And yes, it tasted like dirt. The ants didn’t seem to mind because they’d come out of the flooring, making a beeline right for the sugary shit disguised as healthy.
Realizing the pests were as hungry as I was, I made a mental note not to leave any open food nearby.
I’d been equally leery of the water, so a few sips were all I would allow myself.
Partly because I was squandering it, not wanting to run out.
And also because I wouldn’t put it past Martin to drug the stuff.
It wasn’t like they were offering up Smartwater or Liquid Death.
Not even Aquafina or Dasani. These plastic bottles were old and previously used; the lids no longer sealed, the logos and information long since peeled off.
If I had to guess, they were refilling them with untreated well water or maybe even from a bucket of rainwater they were collecting outside.
With my luck, I would get some sort of parasitic infection and make this visit to hell twice as fun.
If there was any positive to be had, it was that, unlike in the hospital, I could tell day from night.
I could also tell the house was tucked into some trees because at no point did the sun shine directly through any of the windows.
A sliver would peek through, sliding along the floor and the wall as the minutes ticked by, but for the most part, it was shaded.
That was a godsend, considering the aforementioned lack of air conditioning.
There were no lights in the room, but during the day it wasn’t so bad. At night, it was dark. Really dark.
Since there was nothing to do, I spent hours quietly listening for any sounds that would tell me where we were.
If there were a road nearby, I couldn’t hear any traffic.
I had to assume that meant we were likely secluded.
The lack of vehicular noise wasn’t the only thing that brought me to that conclusion.
The most notable was whatever was moving around under the house and on the roof.
Probably squirrels or possums, maybe a raccoon, or even field mice.
Between that and the structure of this house, it made sense that they were keeping me in an old farmhouse or hunting cabin.
Every so often, I would hear a car engine, but it always sounded close.
I figured it was whoever was out there monitoring things.
If I was right, they were working in eight-hour shifts.
I had no idea who they were because no one had come into the room since Creepy Guy locked me in here eight days ago.
Whoever they were, they weren’t going to let me out.
I learned that when I spent the better part of an hour beating on the door and shouting.
No one had so much as acknowledged my presence.
And I got the feeling that was going to continue.
In my one little patch of floor where there weren’t any tack strips threatening to stab me, I sat with my back to the wall, knees up and bent, my arms propped on them.
It allowed me to rest my head without having to lie on the filthy mattress.
I didn’t want to think about where that thing had come from or what was crawling inside it.
Nor did I want splinters where splinters didn’t belong because of the chipped and broken floorboards.
I hated this so much, but I’d become resigned to my fate: passing time while trying to figure out a way to escape.
I’d come up with two options so far. One, I could dig out the floorboards with my fingernails, or two, I could dig out the sheetrock with the cap from the water bottle.
Neither option was even remotely possible, but the hopeful side of my brain was willing to ponder them until something viable appeared.
It was my only option because no one was coming for me.
According to Martin, no one even knew I was alive, much less being held captive, so I doubted I would be leaving this shit hole anytime soon.
In fact, I would probably die here in this room.
However, there was one positive thing that came with the sweltering heat: hallucinations.
Oh, yeah. Despite my prayers, I knew my husbands had not come to rescue me, but they were certainly with me at times.
Today, Gage was front and center, appearing like a hologram.
I figured it had to do with today being his birthday.
At least I thought it was today. The tally marks I was making on the wall told me it was based on the last date confirmation I’d gotten from Nurse Ratched.
But that was assuming my trip from the hospital to here had only been a few hours, not a few days.
Regardless, my thoughts were on Gage and what he was doing today. He was forty-two this year. I remembered celebrating his 40th back before I … died. Since my family believed I was dead—at least according to Martin—I found it easier to think the same.
“What are you doin’ today?” I whispered, talking to my imaginary Gage.
Whatever he was doing, I bet he was happy.
I smiled. “Did Travis wake you up with breakfast in bed?” Or maybe the kids did.
Kate loved to deliver pancakes for birthdays at our house.
Once, I even let her make them herself, right down to stirring the batter.
They hadn’t been edible, but Gage hadn’t cared.
He’d convinced our daughter they were the best pancakes he’d ever had.
Were they going to the diner for dinner?
Or was there a big celebration at Curtis and Lorrie’s?
Maybe they’d already done the June birthday celebration.
Due to the sheer volume of celebrations, we’d started doing them monthly years ago.
June was one of the smallest months, with only three that I could think of: Gage, Haden, and Beau.
A tear slipped down my cheek. I couldn’t help it.
Whenever I thought about my family moving on without me, it caused my heart to ache.
I missed them so much. My husbands, my babies.
I missed my dad and my sister, Curtis and Lorrie, all of my brothers-in-law and their significant others.
I was blessed with so many people in my life.
Or I had been.
I wiped the tear with my sleeve and focused my attention on Gage. As long as I pretended he was there, I could hold on to my sanity for a little while longer.
Or perhaps that was my sanity slipping away bit by bit.