Unspoken

Chapter 50

Although I see no dust, I can smell it in the air. The taste presses against my tongue; it steals my saliva with every breath until my mouth is so dry my lips begin to crack. My strength slowly starts to return. As it does, I work to propel myself forward, but I can't move farther than a foot. My wrists and ankles are chained to the walls. I press my hands against the loosely wooded, compact dirt wall behind me. Pieces of the rotting material splinter off and pierce my fingers.

My breathing begins to grow sparse with how dry my mouth and throat are. As I work to control my breathing, the agonizing sound of metal on metal scrapes through my ears. After a lengthy period of footfalls down a metal corridor, a light flicks on overhead. It's one single, low-hanging bulb in front of my eyes. The red chord is like fire, the bulb the beginning of a small flame.

Uneven footsteps creak with each step as they work across the room. I can hear how unlevel the ground is before I even look down. Just like the wall behind me, the wood-and-dirt floor is in poor condition. If I move my left foot slightly to the side, it would fall into a gaping hole.

My vision adjusts to the bright light before my eyes. A closely shaved head meets my gaze; eyes shine before me like fire. Muscles wrap around a frame about as tall as me. My gut sinks at how familiar this ominous look is.

Brody.

The strong boy slams my body into the wood wall with his right forearm. When my frame beats against it, the wall trembles. Dirt falls over the both of us. It coats Brody's face; I'm sure it coats mine as well.

"What are you doing?" I demand. I struggle to catch my breath. Brody's eyes are so blank....

They're as blank as Jonah's.

My stomach twists.

No...not Brody. Not now.

Who else has Michael gotten?

Without saying anything, Brody shoves a glass of water into one of my contained hands. I grab it quickly and look into it. Specs of dirty debris from the wall float within the liquid. I cringe. I don't want to drink it. I shake my head.

Brody nods. His eyes shine like he's trying to convey a message. It must be a fluke. His eyes are as dead as Jonah's. I've lost my friend to Michael. "Drink," he says through gritted teeth.

I stare at the cup for a long moment, at the brown-spotted water. I pass Brody another defiant glance. This isn't the Brody I know--how can I trust him?

My cracked lips beg for the drink.

"What do you have to say?"

I smirk and bring the cup to my lips. I know I don't want to listen to Brody, but I'm so thirsty that my tongue is basically a sheet of sandpaper. A drop barely hits it when Brody swipes the glass out of my hand. It crashes to the floor. Water soaks the bottom of my jeans. Shards of glass fly off the cup as it hits one of the holes in the floor. Whatever's left of the item spins and dives into the abyss.

Brody slams me into the wall again. "Fine, don't talk, idiot. We'll try this again tomorrow."

Something in his eyes isn't right. They're trying too hard to be empty. His breath is quickened, each word frazzled. He must be fighting the control.

Before I can read any further into him, he turns away and swears under his breath. He knew what I was doing. "We'll try this again tomorrow," he repeats. The words are low, dismal. Each one grows weaker, but Brody's frame only grows stronger. He carries himself across the room with a haughty hold on his shoulders.

With his departure, the light goes as well. I'm left in a blackness I can't bear.

My mind can't grasp Brody's behavior. He was supposed to be a friend--what has Michael done to him? Is he being controlled by him the way Jonah was? Or is this something else? I'd believed we were friends. After everything with Xander....

Brody's become who he was again. Part of me hopes that this is some type of fluke. That glint in his eyes made it seem like it was. If so, why isn't he helping me?

Or has he even been trustworthy all this time? Maybe he was part of Michael's plot from the beginning.

I hope for the best from him. That's all I can do in this moment--I can hope that things get better.

It's hard to hope in a room so dark that you can't even see your hands.

--

A/N:

Oh, no. Not Brody. What happens next? We'll find out on my next day off some time next week! The next few chapters are all going to take place in Taeo's confinement, but every chapter will have very valuable information, so keep tuned! The end will be here before you know it! (I know, tears of sadness from you all).

Enjoy the rest of your summer, team!

Alisha :)