Chapter 3

Chapter 3

T he first thing I notice when I wake up is the rocking. I'm lying on something, and whatever I'm lying on is swaying back and forth, like on a ship.

I'm not sure why, but I don't want to open my eyes. What's stopping me? Fear? Was I having a nightmare? If so, I can't remember what it was about. I'm not really awake, am I?

Maybe I should just go back to sleep. But I blink a few times anyway, because I'm so disoriented. My eyelids are leaden and sticky; I can barely open them.

More anxiety now. Everything around me is completely dark. I can't see a single thing. Places this dark don't exist, at least not where we're from. There's always light coming from somewhere—streetlamps, moon, stars, whatever.

I blink again, but the darkness stays. Why is it so dark? My pulse twitches hard in my throat.

If I can just find something familiar, that will calm me down. Like my messy nightstand or the flowered curtains. But when I turn my head to one side to get my bearings, a stabbing pain hits behind my eyes. Red flashes flicker at the edges of my vision, and it hurts so bad that for a few seconds I'm afraid I'm going to pass out.

What the hell is wrong with me? I try to do some kind of self-inventory, but the fear is making it hard to think clearly. All I know is that it's crazy hard to catch my breath. My chest is sore, like maybe I have a lung infection. And I can still hear my pulse hammering in my ears. Bam. Bam. Bam. Maybe I have a fever?

"Ethan?" My voice sounds weirdly choked, and my throat is raw, like I've been screaming or crying. I try to remember what happened before I fell asleep, but there's this big, gaping hole where those memories are supposed to be. Nothing. No mental images, no information, nothing but dark fog.

Where am I? Where are my brothers?

Deep in my bones, I sense that something terrible has happened. The feeling gets stronger with every breath I take, permeates my entire being. I'm not sure if I want to know what it is, which may be why I didn't want to open my eyes earlier. Is this the first time I've been awake since it happened?

Cautiously, I feel around underneath me. I'm lying somewhere cool and dry. Now I notice that my fingers are trembling like crazy. Am I cold? Am I in pain anywhere besides my forehead and around my eyes? I try to listen to my body, but I keep coming back to my shaking hands. And my hammering heart. This throbbing sensation everywhere. In my chest, in my throat, in my temples. Even in my wrists. And there's something on my face, on my mouth and nose. That's why I'm having such a hard time breathing.

I want to pull it off, but I can't raise my arms. I let out a whimper. What's wrong with me? Why am I so weak?

I focus on my hands, curl and uncurl my fingers, and then try to lift my forearms.

It works, but my hands immediately hit some hard barrier directly above me.

Oh, God, what is that?

I can't fight back the terror any longer. My heart is racing faster and faster. Bam-bam-bam. As if running on autopilot, I run the tips of my fingers across the surface. It's cool and dry, like the floor. It's big. It's everywhere.

I'm trapped.

I hear myself gasping for breath. No, no, that's impossible, I would remember that. It feels like I can't get enough air to deal with this horror around me. Now I feel that thing on my face again, smell that sweet, chemical scent. Right against my nose. Is that what's making it so hard to breathe? A cloth of some kind?

I try to bring my hands to my head, but my arms are heavy, so heavy. My fingers flop weakly at my sides, slide along an edge or corner or something.

This is where the ceiling angles down around me, it must be right by my shoulders. I envision myself inside some sort of rectangle. With the last of my strength, I push against the walls at my sides, but they're like granite, they don't budge an inch.

All at once I'm so terrified that my head starts to swim. I hear a horrible sound, like the strangled sob of an abandoned animal, and realize it's coming from my throat.

I'm trapped in a coffin. For a moment, I believe the darkness, decide I must be dead. My pulse accelerates even more, becomes white noise.

No, no, no, I'm still alive, I'm alive.

It's not a coffin. It's a box.

My body is soaked with sweat. The noise gets louder. It reminds me of something. An image, a sensation, something that happened right before I conked out. It's floating around in there somewhere. I have to remember. If I can remember, I'll know where I am, and then maybe I can get myself out. But my head is muzzy with fear and this disgusting sweet stuff.

I take deep breaths through the cloth, trying to push the fear down, but it's not working. My arms and legs are trembling uncontrollably. Calm down, Lou! Think! Where have you heard this noise before?

I can hear my blood rushing in my head. That terrible sweetness fills my lungs. It must be in this cloth on my face. Or else it's all around me. Consciousness is slipping away from me like a wet fish I can't keep hold of.

I sense it sliding from my grasp, feel myself sinking back into the darkness. As I start to fade, I catch a fleeting glimpse of something. A sense of being alive. I see treetops swaying back and forth like reeds beneath a blood-red sky. The scent of pine needles and smoke flows through me. It feels like freedom. It swells within me until it's so real that I can almost grab it—but before I can latch on, the darkness swallows everything.

The next time I come to, the rocking is the first thing I notice again. The rocking and the darkness. Bam. Bam. Bam. I'm still in the box. As soon as I realize that, my heart starts thundering wildly again, sending muted shock waves through me. I can't think at all anymore. It feels like I'm in the belly of a monster, being digested alive. My whole body is shaking. I remember the three-headed monster living behind my dollhouse that I was so afraid of when I was little. Every night, Ethan had to come in and say a magic spell so that it wouldn't come out. But Ethan's not here. I'm alone. Nobody can see that it's swallowed me. In the darkness, the thought becomes more and more real. Even the sound of my own breathing is suddenly strange and frightening. Wheezing, rattling... maybe that isn't me? Weird, nonsensical thoughts are tumbling through my mind. But all at once, I realize that my brain is in perfect working order. The monster thing is just my subconscious playing tricks on me because it thinks the truth will freak me out way more than my childhood fears.

I force myself to breathe evenly. In, out, in, out. Longer out than in, the way Liam taught me to do so that I wouldn't get so anxious about math tests. In. Out. I can breathe a lot more freely than I could earlier.

The cloth is gone.

Did it slip off, or did someone come take it away? Who? New terror builds within me. Twenty feet tall. Massive.

What happened to you, Lou? Think! You have to remember!

Talking to myself seems to help, even if it's only in my head. It's like having someone else there who cares about me, and it also proves that I'm still alive. Someone's locked you in here, but left you alive. Why didn't they kill you? My memory is still one giant black hole, as impenetrable as the thing I'm lying in. Darkness inside me, darkness around me.

Remember, Lou!

But I can't find anything to grab onto. And the last question hangs in the air, unfolding into a labyrinth with hallways of terror.

Why didn't they kill you?

I focus on my lower body, trying to figure out if anything down there hurts, but I don't feel anything. All I know is that I absolutely cannot, must not answer that last question, because as soon as I let my imagination step into that labyrinth, I'll get lost in my own fear and I'll never find my way back. Then I'll pass out from panic...

Quit thinking about that, Lou, please! Don't go there! Try to remember...

But I can't...

Why am I in this box? How much oxygen do I have in here? Am I going to suffocate, or will they get me out in time? And what are they going to do with me then? Torture me? Rape me? Images of meat hooks and knives and electric shocks flicker in my head. A man in a mask. Am I going to end up dead in a landfill somewhere?

The thought of my brothers finding me like that—cold, lifeless, contorted—presses the air from my lungs. Ethan's face, the devastation in his eyes, knowing that all his lecturing was for naught... that I didn't listen to him yet again.

A single sob bursts out of me with almost violent force before I can swallow it. I can't stop picturing Ethan's face. He's looking at me there in the darkness, from far away. I want to reach out and cling to him.

I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry...

He looks down at me with a solemn expression in his blue-green eyes, and part of my memory abruptly returns, as though it had been there in his gaze the whole time.

We had a fight, Ethan and I did. He yelled at me because I forgot the camping lanterns at home. I remember shouting that I hated him and then running off, and then being afraid of a long shadow that was moving through the forest.

Right, the shadow. There was something evil there.

Another wave of fear rolls out from the darkness and into me, filling me until there's no space left for rational thought. I'm trapped inside a monster, I'm going to die… Lou, please…

I breathe deeply to fight it back, try to conjure up details, but I can't latch onto any of them. They're all in tatters, little shreds of memory fluttering around in my head until panic shoos them away. Ethan, the lanterns... the rustling of the trees... I heard the rustling trees after I fought with Ethan. For some reason I'm positive of that.

To keep myself from losing my mind, I run my hands over the surface above me. Definitely the lid of a box. I feel around for an opening, silently praying that I'll wake up even though I know this isn't a dream.

Eventually, I close my eyes, though that doesn't change anything. It's dark one way or the other. But I tell myself it's better not to actually see the darkness around me. With my eyes closed, I can focus in on my own darkness, on the gaps in my memory. I go back over what I know. Ethan and the lanterns, the shadow... and then Jay was there... and the rustling trees. I felt free, I was laughing. Talking to someone. But who?

That question suddenly looms over the others, circling and echoing in my head. Who? Who was I talking to? Who? If I remember that, I'll know what happened to me afterward.

I went with someone!

The realization hits me out of nowhere. Followed by more panic. I went with someone, and that someone is holding me prisoner, caged up like an animal. Why is everything rocking like this? Are we driving? Is he driving me to some remote place? If so, that means he really does plan to do something horrible. Something he needs to take me far away for, because he doesn't want to be disturbed...

This time, I can't make myself calm down. I wheeze, scream, hammer on the wall above me with my fists. My head explodes with pain, my knuckles are on fire, but I can't stop. I'm going to scream until I pass out. Maybe I just want to know. To know for sure whether I'm going to live or die. I push against the lid with my hands and knees—and then suddenly a hard jolt slams me against the side wall. I lie still, woozy.

Something's changed. My pulse throbs hotly at my temples. I listen into the darkness.

The rocking has stopped.

It feels oppressive, like a response to my outburst.

Icy dread crawls up my spine, though I'm pouring sweat. I don't know which is worse: not knowing what's happened to me, or knowing that I'm about to find out.