Just like the last time.
I saw the way he watched me after it happened. For months, he kept glancing at my stomach. Wondering. Fearing. Worrying. I could see it in his eyes. He was afraid he’d gotten me pregnant.
That only makes it hurt worse.
And if I had needed any confirmation that leaving this place is the best thing for me, this is it. But when he slams the door behind him, it doesn’t make it any easier to accept.
Chapter Eleven
Ronan
Time in this black space does not exist.
I haven’t any clue how long it’s been since I’ve seen another human. Not even Farrell or Coyne. The closest I come is when the door opens and a small sliver of light spills in for a moment as they toss me a mesh bag with my rations for the day.
The bread is always moldy and stale, but I eat it nonetheless. I miss the lady in the room. The one who cared for us. But they told me I will never see her again. I’m a man now, they say. It’s time to forget all else apart from my training and my purpose.
The racket never ceases. Every day, it’s loud music. And then crying babies. Tortured screams. An endless reel of noise. I’ve become immune to it. Learned to sleep with it. But the bugs and the rats, I cannot. They are always crawling on me, and I can’t see them.
I feel as though I’m going mad. I think that’s what they want. Then I question if the bugs are even real. If perhaps I only imagine them in my head.
I don’t know the day or even the year when they come for me again. Coyne and Farrell. They look different. They have beards now, and when the cool air hits my skin, I realize the season has changed too. They speak to me as we walk, but the words don’t register.
My mind has drowned everything out. Even them. They lead me to a big building I’ve never been in before. And then to a kitchen, with a metal door. Farrell opens it and shoves me inside. He points at the corner, where there’s a bucket and a blanket. His lips move, but there’s only the screaming. Wailing. Loud music.
And then they leave.
It’s cold. Even colder than the cellar where they kept me before. It’s a freezer, I realize. Soon, Coyne and Farrell come back with another lad. I’ve seen him during parts of my training. Alex. They shove him inside and point to the other bucket and blanket.
He tries to speak to me too. I sit down and wrap the blanket around my shoulders and question how old I am now. Twelve, I think. Maybe even older. I haven’t a clue. Only the darkness exists, even out here in the light.
The air becomes colder with each passing minute, and soon my eyes grow heavy. I fall asleep, and it feels nice. I’m warm. And comfortable. But then someone’s kicking me with his boot. I look up to see Alex, and the ringing in my ears has finally stopped. I can hear him now though it’s still distorted.
“You have to keep moving,” he says.
I kick him away with my foot and try to go back to sleep. But he persists.
“If you go back to sleep, you will die. You have to keep moving to stay warm. It’s a test. When you get really cold, you feel like you want to go to sleep. But if you do, you’ll never wake up again.”
I blink up at him and process his words. I don’t know if he’s right or not, but maybe he is. Maybe that’s why I feel so warm. Why I feel like I don’t want to move.
When I finally do, my body is stiff, and I can’t feel my fingers when I press them to my lips.
“We have to keep moving,” Alex says. “It’s the only way to stay alive. We have to do it together. Keep each other awake.”
I stand up and wait for Alex’s lead. I don’t know how he knows so much, only that he was brought here a lot later than I was. He speaks of the places outside of the compound. Of school and the things he learned there. I know none of these things, but when he speaks, I believe him.
He paces the length of the freezer, and I follow suit. And then he tells me more about the places. He talks about a church. A big white church where him and his mammy used to go every Sunday. He never tells me what happened to her, but his voice is sad when he says her name. He tells me a lot of things about her, but never what happened.
I don’t have a mammy. Or a da. Only Coyne and Farrell.
And now Alex too.
We aren’t supposed to speak to each other. But he always speaks to me. And we always seem to be in the same phases of training together too.
Throughout the next hour, he tells me all sorts of things. But we’re both slowing down. My eyes will barely stay open, and Alex is slurring his words.
When Coyne finally comes back for us, I am relieved. But that relief never lasts long. He doesn’t take me back to the pit. Instead, he takes us to the pond where Farrell is already waiting.
We stand in line with some of the other lads, and they bind our hands and feet. And then one by one, they shove us into the water.
Ten of us go in. Only seven ever come out.
***