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He guessed that was the price he had to pay for gaining a clear mind. Without the drugs that had kept him in a foggy bubble, he now felt everything.
Every. Little. Thing.
As they exited the building, Rafaelo squinted to protect his eyes from the hot sun—yet another thing he’d missed in his captivity. But this time he didn’t get to enjoy it as he realizedwhythey had been ordered to go out.
Every man grabbed a tool from a table and headed towards what looked like a pyramid.
“What’s happening?” he asked the American again.
“We work,” he sighed. “It’s why we’re here.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will soon enough.”
Following the others’ cue, Rafaelo grabbed a tool from the table too. And as he continued to walk in a line with the other men, he realized they were all going inside the pyramid.
Soon, it became clear what the work was. They were supposed to dig inside the pyramid. Some people were instructed to carve intricate designs on the walls, while the less artistically inclined were forced to dig a tunnel into the pyramid, which was to be a chamber.
There were four guards, walking around and surveying the workers as they made sure no one slacked off.
“Can you tell me more?” Rafaelo insisted when he noted the guards weren’t within hearing distance.
“You don’t know how you came to be here?” the American asked.
Rafaelo shook his head.
“I just woke up here.”
The other man sighed.
“I’m Charles. I’ve been here for a year. And it’s exactly what you see. You work. You work, and work, and work.”
Rafaelo frowned. A year? That’s when he studied Charles for the first time.
He was thin, his skin burned from the sun, his face ravaged by effort.
“Rafaelo,” he nodded. “Why do they need us to work?”
“Because el señor wants his temples. And he would never pay anyone to do this, so instead he uses slaves.”
“Slaves?” Rafaelo blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Were you bought, or were you kidnapped?”
“Bought.”
Charles sighed again.
“Then you might still have a chance. The ones who’ve been kidnapped are usually run into an early grave within months, if not weeks.”
“I don’t understand.” Rafaelo frowned, still trying to keep his wits about him despite feeling weak and faint.
“If you’re kidnapped, it means you’re an enemy of el señor and you’ve been sent here to die. The guards have a list and they target those in particular.”
“What about you then?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” he asked with a dry smirk. So he’d been bought too.
