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The weak beam of a flashlight swept the room, threatening to expose every secret it held, and it became very apparent someone was looking for something.
Looking for me.
You don’t know that!
“She’s not here. Let’s go.” A hushed, hurried whisper carried through the dark.
I do now.
The light swung around, stretching incredibly close to the place I hid, instead illuminating my abandoned crutches.
“Fuck,” someone half growled. “She’s gone.”
Footsteps retreated.
“Turn the power back on.”
The implications of that statement were heavy, and my mind started to numb. The panic I’d been holding back began to win over, its sharp talons puncturing the self-preservation I boldly wielded.
Just hang on. They’re leaving. They didn’t see you.
The small light clicked off. The relief I felt was damn near painful. Even after the room was silent, I stayed hidden, straining over the epic pounding of my heart to hear that they’d gone.
The radio came back on first, the cheerful song startling as it punched through the surround sound, and ratcheted up my anxiety that much more. The lights flickered on right after, and I froze, waiting for something terrible to happen. Expecting someone to scream, “Found you!”
The two washing machines I’d been using clicked like they would continue their cycles where they left off.
My body unclenched, but I was left weak and afraid. Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed the cell, reassuring myself it was still there. Since I felt safer down here on the floor and my crutches were across the room, I started to crawl, heading directly to the elevators.
Fuck these clothes. I was getting the hell out.
It happened so fast I couldn’t even scream. Someone snatched me around the waist, lifting me off the ground like I was insignificant in size.
Breath whooshed out of me, and the cell in my hand slipped free and hit the ground. I stared at it for a single heartbeat, seeing my link to the outside world suddenly out of reach. Fight. My brain reminded me, and I started to kick and pound my fists into the forearms holding me hostage.
Click.
Whoosh.
The world tilted. My body banged and scraped as it was forced inside a small opening, my face smacking something cold and hard.
“No!” I wailed, surging forward despite the pain echoing in my limbs.
Rough hands shot out, shoving me back.
Splash.
The back of my head smacked into something hard, and I fell into shallow water. My nose burned when the strong scent of detergent assaulted me, and I scrambled around, trying again to lunge to freedom.
The circular door slammed in my face, my palm smacking into the heavily tinted glass.
“No!” I yelled, the sound echoing around me in the chamber.
I pounded against the glass until my hand stung. “Let me out of here!”
I barely registered what was happening, the events too horrible to comprehend. All I knew was that this was bad. Very, very bad.
The sound of a lock engaging was like a bullet right to my heart. I fell back with a wail, water soaking my clothes and seeping into my cast while my body ached with fresh bruises.
