Chapter 44 "Us Against Them"
Day 100; Group C
Three days. Seventy-two hours. Four thousand, three hundred twenty minutes. Two hundred fifty-nine thousand, two hundred seconds.
Time passed slowly. Painfully. Every waking moment fat and ripe with fear, tension, and hesitation.
They knew they were locked in a storeroom. They knew they were alone, the only people in there. They knew there was very little chance of escape. The walls were concrete, there were no windows, and the only door out of the room was locked with a padlock from the outside. Their only chance of escape was to attack someone when they opened the door for feeding or head-count.
The eight of them had no idea what was going on. They weren't sure why the were being held captive. They didn't know why they were locked into a cold, dark room. They didn't know what Merle and his people wanted from them. They didn't know what might happen to them at all.
Sierra sighed as she looked around the room, eyeing the piles of paper and old documents from when the train station was in order. The only thing in the room besides them was papers. When they had to, they used them as pillows. In the corner, they had designated a spot for bodily functions — and it was beginning to smell absolutely awful.
They needed to get out, and fast. Their hope was draining. They had attempted to fight their way out twice now, and both times they ended up injured or punished. At this moment, it marked their twentieth hour without food. They were to go without for two more full days.
Otis cradled his arm, which was still sore from the pellets shot at him by the guards. He sighed, shifting his weight and locked eyes with Sierra. They stared at one another, sadness permeating their gazes. They had worn thin their reassurances that they will get out and be okay. They wanted to believe they would. They were certain, with every fiber of their being, they would be released. But their chances looked slim.
Steve rolled over, waking up for the hundredth time in the past few hours. As he studied his fellow inmates, he thought about how hard sleeping was to do when you had no idea how safe you were. For Steve, that had been his whole life for the past three months. Though he was used to it, it didn't make it any more enjoyable.
Sierra had kept her eyes glued to Steve for the first two days. "It's us against them now," he had said to the group when they were first locked up. She couldn't help but distrust the stranger. Though he had presented himself to be nothing but kind to the group, she couldn't help but be uneasy. To escape this prison, though, she would have to trust him with her life.
Merle sat in his office, a great smirk on his face as he spun around in his wheeled chair a bit. He flipped through photographs. They were polaroids of his new prisoners. As he flipped through, he attempted to memorize their names.
"Zander. Or, was it Zavier? Javier?" Merle shrugged. "Smart kid, I guess. Could use a haircut, though. Lookin' like a little sissy."
He took the picture and sat it on his desk, beginning the start of the pile of pictures.
"Kelly," he said, again shrugging slightly. "I'd hit that.
"Gabriel. Another taco-bender runnin' around here. I wouldn't mind puttin' him out of his misery just to help clean up the world a bit. Do some good.
"Otis. What a sad, old fatass. Poor dude won't know what hits him.
"Shakira, I think it was. Hell yes. Spoiled little beaner, but hot as hell.
"Steve. He's gonna be hard to bring to our side. Hardheaded blond.
"Amanda. What'd Martin say her last name was? Bryor, I think?" he shrugged. "At least it's not Kimble, or some other 'K'-shit. Whatever, she looks like a party, though. Gotta have some drugs on her."
And, finally, "Sierra," Merle's great smirk returned to him. He licked his lips and unbuttoned his pants. Then he unzipped them and shoved a hand down his pants. "This one's about to get exactly what she deserves."
Sierra lied on her back, an overwhelming sense of dread beginning to take over her. She looked down at the chipped, almost completely gone, nail polish on her fingers. Black, just like she felt. Lyrik had done them only a few days before they were all separated. She sighed, holding a hand to her heart as she let a tear roll down her temple and into her hair.
She jolted upwards, readying her hands in preparation of using her fingernails as her last-resort weapons when light flooded the room.
"Shhh," a female whispered to her, silhouetted by the light behind her. "Come here," the figure beckoned.
Sierra raised a brow, squinting to make out detail of the woman's appearance, then looked to her friends, who were either asleep or looking at her with groggy, confused eyes.
"I'm not here to hurt you. Look," the woman said, turning a bag around her shoulders to her and pulling out some food.
The blonde on the ground licked her lips, but remained where she was. "How am I supposed to trust you?"
"You just are," the stranger said lightly. "Your other option is to starve."
While she spoke, a smaller figure creeped up behind her. As the figure approached, she stood in front of the light. She was a small, tan, brunette little girl.
"Poppie!" the stranger whisper-yelled. "Get back into the hall! You know you're not supposed to be out here!"
The small girl looked around nervously like a frightened puppy dog. She then turned and ran back towards the direction she had come from.
"Look," the woman said impatiently as she turned to look back as the girl fled. The light illuminated her face. She was white, with dark hair that appeared to be almost black. It was hard to tell, but she seemed to be quite pretty to Sierra. She threw what was in her hand into the dark room before grabbing another handful and throwing that in as well. "My name's Amanda. Remember me. Now, just take the food! I have to go!"
As the woman closed the door and locked it back, Sierra strained to see her comrades' faces. When her eyes finally adjusted back to the darkness, she saw that the food was on the floor still, and everyone was looking nervously among themselves.
Slowly, Sierra rose and grabbed a package of beef jerky. She opened it, and sniffed the delicious, tempting meat. The blonde couldn't help but sigh in pleasure as she inhaled the familiar scent.
After she took a bite, the rest of the group followed their leader and began digging into the food, biting into fresh fruits and nuts, devouring packaged meats, and savoring stale junk food. They were astonished at the woman's kindness, but couldn't help think perhaps she was playing them somehow. Either way, the group reveled in their bounty, enjoying it while they could. They wanted to take a break of thinking about potential ulterior motives, and to just celebrate the fact they had been given valuable nutrition.