In the Open

"You have a phone?"

A commotion is what startles me awake, and I can feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up in alarm. I hear two voices coming from above me, both of them men. I can't make out anything they're saying due to the layer of concrete separating us. Maybe Nick is here? My heart skips a beat at the thought, but I know it's too good to be true.

My stomach suddenly begins to churn, and I rush to the toilet just as my stomach contents spew from my mouth. I haven't eaten in days now, and my throat burns from the straight stomach acid I just hurled up. I've only had the water that the strange man gave me the other day, but that's all. If I don't eat soon I'm not sure I'll even have the strength to make it out of here.

I sigh and rest my arms on the cold toilet seat, laying my head on top of them. I've gotten skinner, I can tell. I haven't had food and all the stress I'm feeling was of course bound to make me lose a few pounds. I wonder if I look totally disgusting. I'm dirty and exhausted.

My head snaps up as soon as I hear the metal door clang open, and footsteps coming down the ladder. I stand up slowly, and walk back to my bed, acting unfazed by whoever just came in; though, I can feel the anxiety bubbling up within me.

I have to act strong. I can't get through this if I act like a helpless mouse caught in a trap.

"Can I help you with something?" I say impassively, gathering the courage to look the men in the eyes with confidence. I've only seen one of them before; he's the one that showed kindness and brought me water. Now though he's looking at me with glaring eyes, full of hatred.

The other man grabs him by the back of the neck and jostles him a little bit, only making the man's anger intensify. "Go on and smack her. Boss's orders were to starve her and keep water away from her until she was bone dry and could barely move. You obviously have a soft spot for her. Now, you can either hurt her someway, or I'll tell the boss and he'll probably kill you himself."

The man's nostrils flare, and a strike of fear and regret flashes within me. I give him a little nod, trying to tell him that it's okay and I understand.

"How'd you even find out about that anyway?" He angrily says, gritting his teeth.

"Zayn searched 'er room last night, and he saw the empty bottles. You was the only other person seen coming down her'. Now, you hit her, or I swear I'll do sum worse. An' trust me, you don't wanna watch that." He winks at me and grins. His teeth look as sharp as razor blades.

Of course it was Zayn who ratted on me. He's such a bastard! He could've easily avoided mentioning the waters. He clearly has some sort of vendetta against me. Maybe he just doesn't accept rejection that well. If I make it through this I won't hesitate to punch him in the nose.

The man being held looks at me for a second longer, and then suddenly the two men are grappling on the floor. The vile man gets pinned to the ground, with the other man's elbow locked tightly around his throat. He didn't even stand a chance.

"You tell the boss I gave her water or threaten me again and I'll break more than just your wrist," he says darkly, and stomps on the man's wrist so hard that a crack resounds through the room. I stare in shock as the man being held finally passes out, his body laying limp on the cold concrete floor.

"Are you okay?" The guy asks me with genuine concern etched onto his face.

"I'm f-fine. What's your name and why are you helping me?'

"I'm Mark, and I was in your exact situation once. The whole hostage situation? I know what it feels like, and I know that you don't deserve it. I'm going to do my best to protect you Nadine, but you have to work with me, alright?" He says, looking into my eyes. I probably look like a wounded deer, helpless and scared.

"Thank you Mark. Thank you so much," I can't help but cry and collapse onto my bed, ignoring the passed out body on the floor.

"Here's a granola bar for you. I'm sorry but it's all I've got as of now. I'll have more soon I'm sure. And make sure you flush the wrappers, all right?" He asks and hands me the granola bar. I scarf it down in seconds, barely even tasting it and nearly choking three times. He laughs a bit and take the wrapper this time, shoving it in his pocket.

He turns on his heel to leave, but I jump up, carefully avoiding my ankle, and reach for his arm. He turns around and I instantly embrace him. He hesitates but then hugs me back, unfazed by the tears I'm releasing on my shoulder.

I pull away and stiffly ask, "How did you make it out alive?"

His eyes glaze over, shielding me from any of his emotions. "Ray got a hold of my family... because they came to save me. Then he slaughtered them, and said I could either work for him. Or he'd kill me. I obviously chose the first option."

My blood runs cold at the potential future that lies ahead of me. I see Mark visibly gulp, and then he walks toward the ladder. Despite what I thought would happen, he Stomps on it until the wood splits, breaking it in half. He drags the unconscious body towards the ladder and then reaches into his pocket, pulling out a cell phone.

"We're stuck down here.... the ladder broke and Robert fell. I think his wrist is broken.... and he hit his head and is passed out.... yeah... Just send someone down here to get us please. Thanks."

"You have a phone?" I hiss at him in a whisper, excitement bubbling within me.

"Yes- and no, you can't use it. Our calls are logged and the boss would see it and kill me and everyone I've ever spoken to, including you. Trust me when I say that you don't want to do that."

Before I could say anything else, people appear at the door, and drop a rope latter down, along with two men. They look me up and down like I'm a piece of meat, and I rush to my bed as quickly as possible.

They stop looking at me eventually, and everyone piles out of the room, struggling to get the unconscious pig up the ladder. Mark is the last one out, and he smiles at me quickly before exiting, leaving me alone in this prison once again.

I sit on my bed for hours, picking at my nails until they begin to bleed. What if Nick dies trying to save me? I couldn't live with myself.

Suddenly, a plan pops into my head. It's risky and terrifying, but it's a plan.

I check my bed, and find the hole where I hid the pocket knife. I rush to the bathroom and stare at the metal sink. I start to drag the blade across the metal quickly, praying that it's actually working and isn't simply pointless. I do that until my hand gets sore from the constant movement, and then I go back to the bed, restoring the knife to it's hiding place. I'm surprised Zayn didn't manage to find it. Or maybe he did, and just didn't say anything. But why would he mention the water bottles instead of the knife? It doesn't make any sense.

I lay down and brace myself for tomorrow. What I'm going to do will either save my life or get me killed, along with everyone I care about. If I can go through with it though, I'll be free. I can get back to Nick and we can defeat Ray together.

I fall asleep with the faraway thought of victory on my mind, and visions of Nick flashing behind my closed eyelids.