Page 70 of Winter’s Fire

From the absence of a straightforward response, Lucy assumed the worst. She pressed her cheek to Logan’s, seeking comfort as much as she intended to give it.

“Wonderful, but who protects you?” If he was planning any interviews for the role, she was first in line. “I need to clean that lip for you. I’m going to ask them for a first aid kit, and more water.” She pushed herself away from him. “And then we’re going to work out how to get out of here, find Diana, and get back to civilisation.”

“Lucy, no.” He caught hold of her hand as she stood.

“No? I don’t understand.”

“I don’t want you attracting any attention.”

“By asking for a medical kit? Look, the worst they’ll do is say no. They’re planning to sell me, so they won’t want to inflict any more cuts and bruises. Damaged goods won’t bring as high a price.” She swayed a little under the onslaught of the stomach-churning thought.

About twenty minutes after she’d hammered on the door so hard, she’d almost made her hands bleed, Lucy took delivery of a rudimentary first aid kit, a lantern, and a couple of large plastic containers of water. The water looked clean enough, so she refilled the smaller bottle she and Logan had emptied together, then set about cleaning his wounds and treating them as best she could with the limited supplies, at the same time nagging her patient to take another drink.

“You look like you know what you’re doing.” Logan flinched as she started on the deepest of the cuts.

“Sam the medic, remember? This one should probably have a stitch or two to close it up properly, but I think we might get away with it.”

“Remind me again why you didn’t join up.”

As if she needed to. The man remembered everything. The question, however, reminded her of her family, and for a moment her hands trembled in their task.

“Lucy, look at me. We will get out of this, I promise. As soon as our report’s overdue, Sir Guy will take action.”

Though she’d told herself the same, pragmatism made Lucy’s smile less than convincing. “I believe you.”

~~*~~

Night became day, and sunrise brought with it confirmation of how truly awful their captivity was. Though she’d occasionally spotted rats from a distance around the farm, it didn’t mean Lucy was happy to share her personal space with them. Not when they were as big as the one she’d seen within minutes of waking up.

She tried not to think about how close it or any of its friends might have been while she’d been asleep in Logan’s arms.

Nor did she want to see the dust and the dirt, or the cobwebs and the spiders that made them.

All of that, however, paled against the embarrassment of using that smelly bucket with Logan just a few feet away. The fact that he’d also had to use it didn’t make it any easier to cope with.

What she’d loosely describe as food was brought to them shortly after dawn, along with more water. Since then, they’d been left alone. Logan had carried out a detailed examination of their prison, and come to the conclusion that the only way they were getting out was through the heavily guarded door.

The hours melted into an amorphous mass, marked only by the procession of shadows across the cell floor. Even though there were things she wanted to ask Logan, Lucy didn’t feel much like talking. Knowing some gun-toting heavy on the other side of that door could hear every word they said was a sure-fire conversation killer.

“I should take a look at those cuts again, check that they’re not showing signs of infection.” She made to leave Logan’s side, to retrieve the first aid kit.

“It’s okay, I’m fine. Stay here.”

“You don’t feel feverish?” She’d done her best, but there was only so much antiseptic wipes could do to stave off any bugs.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry. We will get out of here.”

“You have a plan?”

“I need you to trust me.”

“I do.” Didn’t he know that by now?

“Good, because when they come for me, I want you to do as they say. Don’t give them any cause to harm you.”

“Logan, no! I won’t stand by and let them take you—”

“You have to!”