The air was even mustier than before—humid and corroded, with a peculiar acrid bite that seemed to cling to the back of my throat. The temperature was cooler than it had been in the desert, but the incongruous moisture made it almost as uncomfortable. I was sweating again, the water Jeb had given me finding its way out through my pores.
I could hear my breathing echo back to me from a few feet away. It could be that I was only close to one wall, but I guessed that I was in a very small space. I listened as hard as I could, and it sounded like my breathing echoed back from the other side as well.
Knowing that I was probably still somewhere in the cavern system Jeb had brought me to, I was fairly sure what I would see when I opened my eyes. I must be in some small hole in the rock, dark purple brown and riddled with holes like cheese.
It was silent except for the sounds my body made. Afraid to open my eyes, I relied on my ears, straining harder and harder against the silence. I couldn’t hear anyone else, and this made no sense. They wouldn’t have left me without a warden, would they? Uncle Jeb and his omnipresent rifle, or someone less sympathetic. To leave me alone… that wouldn’t be in character with their brutality, their natural fear and hatred of what I was.
Unless…
I tried to swallow, but terror closed my throat. They wouldn’t leave me alone. Not unless they thought I was dead, or had made sure that I would be. Not unless there were places in these caves that no one came back from.
The picture I’d been forming of my surroundings shifted dizzyingly in my head. I saw myself now at the bottom of a deep shaft or walled into a cramped tomb. My breathing sped up, tasting the air for staleness, for some sign that my oxygen was running low. The muscles around my lungs pulled outward, filling with air for the scream that was on the way. I clenched my teeth to keep it from escaping.
Sharp and close, something grated across the ground beside my head.
I shrieked, and the sound of it was piercing in the small space. My eyes flew open. I jerked away from the sinister noise, throwing myself against a jagged rock wall. My hands swung up to protect my face as my head thunked painfully against the low ceiling.
A dim light illuminated the perfectly round exit to the tiny bubble of a cave I was curled in. Jared’s face was half lit as he leaned into the opening, one arm reaching toward me. His lips were tight with anger. A vein in his forehead pulsed as he watched my panicked reaction.
He didn’t move; he just stared furiously while my heart restarted and my breathing evened out. I met his glare, remembering how quiet he had always been—like a wraith when he wanted. No wonder I hadn’t heard him sitting guard outside my cell.
But I had heard something. As I remembered that, Jared shoved his extended arm closer, and the grating noise repeated. I looked down. At my feet was a broken sheet of plastic serving as a tray. And on it…
I lunged for the open bottle of water. I was barely aware that Jared’s mouth twisted with disgust as I jerked the bottle to my lips. I was sure that would bother me later, but all I cared about now was the water. I wondered if ever in my life I would take the liquid for granted again. Given that my life was not likely to be prolonged here, the answer was probably no.
Jared had disappeared, back through the circular entry. I could see a piece of his sleeve and nothing more. The dull light came from somewhere beside him. It was an artificial bluish color.
I’d gulped half the water down when a new scent caught my attention, informing me that water was not the only gift. I looked down at the tray again.
Food. They were feeding me?
It was the bread—a dark, unevenly shaped roll—that I smelled first, but there was also a bowl of some clear liquid with the tang of onions. As I leaned closer, I could see darker chunks on the bottom. Beside this were three stubby white tubes. I guessed they were vegetables, but I didn’t recognize the variety.
It took only seconds for me to make these discoveries, but even in that short time, my stomach nearly jumped through my mouth trying to reach the food.
I ripped into the bread. It was very dense, studded with whole-grain kernels that caught in my teeth. The texture was gritty, but the flavor was wonderfully rich. I couldn’t remember anything tasting more delicious to me, not even my mushed-up Twinkies. My jaw worked as fast as it could, but I swallowed most of the mouthfuls of tough bread half-chewed. I could hear each mouthful hit my stomach with a gurgle. It didn’t feel as good as I thought it would. Too long empty, my stomach reacted to the food with discomfort.
I ignored that and moved on to the liquid—it was soup. This went down easier. Aside from the onions I’d smelled, the taste was mild. The green chunks were soft and spongy. I drank it straight from the bowl and wished the bowl were deeper. I tipped it back to make sure I’d gotten every drop.