My hands started to shake and I broke into a full body tremble. My breathing was erratic and I gasped for air. With both hands, I pulled at the chain around my ankle. When it wouldn’t budge, I crawled to the wall and tried to pull the chain. It was locked onto a clasp that had been drilled into the wall.

I needed to stand up. Using the wall, I transferred all my body weight to one side and leaned up against it. My legs felt shaky, but I was able to slowly rise up. I felt the wall with both hands, feeling it up and down. I turned to face forward and started taking small steps. I walked until the chain stopped extending out. My left leg begged to keep going. It was like my body was at war with itself. My right leg was being held behind, not allowed to go any further. The rest of my entire body screamed for me to run. I bent down and pulled the chain with both hands. It didn’t help at all.

My entire body felt like it was on fire. The only thing keeping me from running out of there was the lock around my ankle. It appeared so minuscule that my brain couldn’t process what my eyes were seeing.

How does that one chain have the power to hold back my entire body?

I couldn’t make sense of things. I had freedom of my body everywhere except for one ankle. It was terrifying.

I screamed and then collapsed in tears. No one said anything. They let me cry until I caught my breath. I wiped my face with the back of my hand.

"How long have you been here?" I asked them.

"I got here two days ago," Cal answered first.

"Same," Grant answered.

I turned to look at Will.

"Yesterday," he answered.

"Oh." I didn’t know what else to say.

The four of us sat in silence for a while. I tried to wrap my head around what was happening.
I had so many more questions for the three of them. But first I had to make sense of what had happened so far. I remembered flying to New Mexico. I clearly remembered landing and getting off the plane.

"There was a man," I said aloud. "He picked me up from the airport. Dean! His name was Dean. He drove a pickup truck."

I remembered details about him and his truck. I could see his face clearly in my mind. Rachel and I had watched a crime show once and I remembered them saying that if you were ever a victim of a crime, you should try to remember any details you could. They had said to notice details of someone’s appearance, like hair color and if they were shorter or taller you, their clothes, and if they wore jewelry. I closed my eyes and pictured Dean. I could describe him perfectly down to the cigarette smell of his truck.

"His name was Dean," I said again, proud of myself for having paid enough attention to those little details that were supposed to be super helpful.

Cal gave me a sympathetic nod. Confused, I looked away from her to Will and Grant. Grant sat quietly, staring off to the wall.

"Great job," Will said sarcastically.

"It is great," I argued. "It’s details about him. That’s how the cops will find him."

Will tilted his head. Our eyes met. "What cops?" he asked.

My face fell.

"Dean picked us all up from the airport. So what? I remembered the first half of his truck’s license plate. Who cares? You think that’s going to get me out of here?" he spat.

My eyes welled up with tears. Will was right. The crime show that Rachel and I watched never said what to do with all those details you remembered if you were still experiencing the crime. Who would I tell those details to? There were no police, no one who would sketch a picture of Dean to alert society of this "bad guy".

"It’s okay," Cal said softly, "I went through this same thing, too."

I looked at her and she gave me a small smile.

"Okay, so we all had Dean pick us up and drive us...here," I said. "And Gina?"

Cal nodded, answering for all three of them.

"Anything else?" I asked hopelessly.
Cal shrugged. "The lights." She nodded towards the ceiling. "I think they’re on a timer, but I can’t be sure. They go on in the morning and off at night. That’s when I fall asleep anyway, so I’m assuming it’s night. Gina keeps the door locked day and night."

I followed her gaze to the ceiling. There were two lights with dimly lit bulbs. It wasn’t very bright, but was sufficient enough.

"The bathroom is over there," she said quietly. To our right, next to the farthest wall, was a single toilet. A roll of toilet paper sat next to it on the floor. Even from where I sat I could tell the toilet was disgustingly filthy. It was missing a lid and water was slowly draining out and down the side onto a puddle on the floor. It didn’t flush; it just had a deeply dug hole beneath it. I didn’t want to imagine using that toilet even once, although it was inevitable. I could squat over it, I guessed, but the thought of using it in front of other people made me shudder.

"Food doesn’t seem to be on a schedule, and when we get food, it’s nothing great," Cal continued.

Just then we heard a noise coming from upstairs in the cabin. The door slammed shut and there were footsteps above us. I looked at Cal.

"Speak of the devil," she sighed.

"You better tell her the rest, Cal," Grant whispered.

There’s more?

"When Gina - or anyone - comes down? Sit against the wall. You need to not speak. Don’t say a word, get it?" she whispered.

"Not speak?" I asked her.

"Don’t say one word. No matter what. They don’t like it. Not unless they talk directly to you, which they won’t. It’s best to not even look at them, either. But no matter what, keep your mouth shut," she warned.

I nodded. We sat in silence as we listened to the footsteps walking around above us. The door at the top of the stairs opened and we heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I remembered Gina had pulled the chain, turning on a single light bulb that was hanging from the ceiling.

Someone was on the other side of the wall. Bookshelves that were a hidden door. I pictured it in my mind, remembering that Gina had punched some buttons before sliding the shelf over. Like a secret door. Light flooded in as Gina stood in front of us holding a tray in her hand. She took a minute to look us all over before dropping the tray onto the floor and kicking it over towards us with her foot. No one moved. I glanced over to Cal. She was staring straight down at the floor. Gina closed the door behind her as she left.

As soon as we heard her footsteps going back upstairs, Grant dove for the tray. Will sat up as though he was waiting his turn. Grant looked at us and shook his head.

"What’d we get?" Cal asked him.

He tossed her a slice of bread that she caught between both her hands. She inspected both sides of it before taking a bite.

"Hey!" Grant called out to me.

"Ryleigh," I answered back.

He didn’t answer; just aimed and tossed me a slice of bread. Will was next. He caught his slice and gave Grant a nod of "thanks".

Grant kicked the tray with his foot so it slid back over near the door. No one spoke as they chewed their bread. As hungry as I had become, I was the only one out of the four of us who’d eaten a decent breakfast and lunch that day. I felt guilty about that as I watched the three of them scarf down a single slice of bread. On the plane, I had turned down the mini bag of pretzels the flight attendant offered me. I had asked for a ginger ale instead, which she happily poured into a plastic cup full of ice. I remember feeling so annoyed that I had to hold my empty cup until the other flight attendant came back down the aisle with a trash bag. Sitting on the cement floor, I was suddenly ashamed. How many little things did I take for granted every day?

I chewed the last of my bread and swallowed tightly against the lump in my throat. Grant rolled bottles of water over to us. I guess he had been too hungry to pass out the water before eating his bread. I thanked him for the water and twisted the cap off. My throat was dry and hoarse. I gulped the water down.

Cal reached over and tipped my water bottle down. I shot her a look. "Try to save as much as you can."

"Oh," I said. "Thanks." I twisted the cap back on. I hadn’t considered this might be all the water I would get for a while. I placed my water bottle against the wall behind me.

Next Chapter: Six