All the Little Raindrops

She drummed lightly on the bars. “Probably.” She’d left work with three days off in front of her when she was taken. Her father certainly would have realized after a few days that something was wrong when she didn’t answer one of his usual calls or texts. But even so, the exact timing of her disappearance might be unclear. Then again, it also could probably be investigated using cameras from the area.

She glanced to the corner of the cage where she’d stacked her empty water cups. There were sixteen. But that didn’t help determine the exact amount of time she’d been there, because they’d been delivered randomly, sometimes with only a few sips of water and sometimes almost full so that she rationed what she’d been given. “I don’t know,” she finally answered. “Maybe us being left in the dark was simply to torment us.”

He let out a chuffing sound. “Mission accomplished.”

She acknowledged his statement with an agreeable sound in the back of her throat. “Why do you think they finally turned the lights on?”

Evan was quiet for a moment, obviously trying to work that out. “I think we can assume that they want us to see the things in this room. You were given a rope for a reason too. They expect something.”

A shiver snaked down her spine. Funny that she could still be chilled by anything, all things considered. Could it really get creepier and more horrifying than this? She shoved the thought aside violently, refusing to think about that question lest she work herself up into a terror cyclone. It would be so easy, so easy. She’d been skating the edge of that storm since she’d first woken here, and she refused to let her mind do to her what they had not.

Yet.

“But what? What could they possibly want from us? And why don’t they tell us what it is?”

“Look at me,” Evan said, and she did, turning her body and leaning the side of her forehead against a bar as she peered through them over to where he sat in a similar position. “Let’s try to put our emotions and our fear aside so we can think as rationally as possible, okay? We don’t have a positive view of the other person. Is that fair?”

“Sure.”

“And we have a connection that makes us natural . . . enemies, I guess.”

She tipped her chin in agreement.

“So here’s what I’ve got. Let’s assume that connection is no coincidence. Who benefits from this?” He gestured his arm around the small space. “Is it an exercise to get us to work together somehow? Sharing our food? Trying to figure out how to get out of here?”

She wrinkled her brow. His theory sounded far fetched. “Who would do something like that, though? We’ve been terrorized and half starved so far. Our parents wouldn’t do this to us, at least I know my dad wouldn’t. And if not them, who?”

“That redheaded friend of yours who always gives me the death stare when I pass her in the hall?”

She felt a sliver of indignation lodge under her skin. Of course he was assuming it was one of her people. “Paula?” She let out a short, humorless laugh. “Paula didn’t do this.”

“How do you know?”

“This isn’t the work of a shy eighteen-year-old girl who cries at sad commercials and dreams of working in the publishing industry because books bring her such joy.” Plus, Paula was smart and kind and loyal. She had to be scared to death right now by Noelle’s disappearance.

“Why not? Still waters run deep.”

“Oh, shut up.” She turned her body more fully. “You know nothing about us.”

“Okay, then. Why’d you accept that scholarship anyway?” he asked.

“Why shouldn’t I?” She’d earned that scholarship, and because of it, she might get another scholarship to any number of good colleges. It was her ticket to a life where she could not only support herself but help her dad, too, after his life had been decimated.

“Because I’m there,” he said.

“I ignore you,” she retorted.

“No kidding.”

She gritted her teeth. “What about you?” she asked. “Who do you know sick and twisted enough to set up something like this? I’ll bet there’s a list. Someone totally soulless, with plenty of money to pay enough people off to go along with this? To aid and abet? What about your gang of purposeless androids always looking for the next thrill?”

“You’re getting emotional, Noelle.”

Fuck off. She didn’t say it, but she wanted to. Instead, she turned away with a huff because she was well aware that he’d be more than happy to fuck off if he could. He was right. She was letting her emotions take over when they were supposed to be thinking rationally in order to solve this. To come up with something that might help their situation. She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Someone put us in these cages. Someone benefits from this. What types of benefits are there?”

“Financial.”

“Yes, but this is not a ransom situation. That makes no sense as far as me, and like you said, if they were interested in ransoming you, you’d know. Your father would have asked for proof of life, and they’d have put you on the phone or taken a photo or something.”

“Okay. Revenge. But it would have to be someone who hates us both and is looking to punish us both for something.”

“Or punish our families, those who care for us.”

“That’s still a type of ransom, though. Wouldn’t your father and my parents ask for proof that that person has us?”

“I mean, we’re missing. If the point is to scare them, that would be enough. Whether we’re alive or dead is sort of immaterial to that, right? Either way, they’re suffering. The not knowing might make it worse.” She pushed away the vision of her father, walking the floor until all hours of the night, gripping a handful of hair the way he’d done after her mother had been found shot dead. She couldn’t let herself imagine what he was experiencing now. She would lose it if she did.

Evan blew out a breath, bringing his hands up and massaging his temples. “Who hates both of our families that much? As far as I know, they haven’t had any contact since the trial, and that was six years ago.”

Yes, six years had passed. Seven years and three months since Noelle’s mom had died. And yet, in some ways, it seemed like yesterday. It’d taken that long for her father to get a handle on the lawyer fees he still owed. Six years where every day his eyes seemed to dull just a little bit more. He’d gone from thirty-seven to forty-three during that time, and yet he looked far older than that. Noelle sighed, massaging her head as she stretched her mind, trying to come up with anyone who might be connected to them both who also might hold some sort of grudge, rational or not.

The sudden squeak of a speaker made Noelle jump, and Evan jerked his head in her direction. “Deposit your trays and refuse in the dumbwaiters.” The voice was robotic, the cadence odd, and Noelle froze, fear climbing as the doors their food had been delivered through slid open. There was nothing on the back or sides of hers. It appeared to be a silver metal box. A dumbwaiter that would be pulled up to some unknown place above.

“What the fuck?” Evan asked as he stared into his. The message repeated, the rhythm identical to the first time it had played. It was obviously some system, not a disguised human voice.

“Where is it coming from?” Noelle asked, scooting to the end of her cage and peering out between the bars. She couldn’t see a speaker, and it was difficult to tell which direction the recording was coming from. It repeated again.

“Hey!” Evan called. “Hey, whoever’s playing that! What do you want with us? What do we need to do to get out of here? Hey! Help us!”

The recording repeated. Evan shook the bars the way he’d done the day before. “Fucking talk to us! Tell us what you want!” The recording repeated yet again. It seemed that was the only instruction they were going to get. Noelle picked up her tray and extended her arm as far as possible, giving the tray a small toss so it landed in the tiny elevator behind her, then picked up the stack of cups she’d collected and tossed those inside too.