The Perfect Son by Freida McFadden(65)

Chapter 57


Olivia



The piece of bread and bottle of water are long gone.

The lack of water is much harder than the lack of food. My mouth feels so dry, I can barely get it open. It feels like my lips are sealed together with glue. And whenever I try to stand up, I feel dizzy. My head is spinning. When I doze off, I dream about water. I dream about finding a puddle and lapping it up like a dog. I’m not picky. I would drink out of the toilet bowl if I could.

Speaking of toilet bowls, I can’t remember the last time I peed. I don’t think I’m making pee anymore.

He’s killing me. He’s going to let me die a terrible death of dehydration. He’s not even going to let it get to the point where I starve to death, although that would be awful too.

The only positive thing I can say is that my left ankle doesn’t throb the way it used to. I hardly even notice it, except when I run my fingers along my calf, the skin is tight and swollen. I can’t wiggle my toes anymore or move my ankle. I’m sure if I tried to put weight on it, it would hurt, but I don’t have the strength to stand.

It’s nighttime now. That tiny slice of light is gone. I have gotten used to the pitch blackness of this hole. Whether I open or close my eyes, it’s the same. This must be what it’s like to be blind. It just shows that you can get used to anything. It seems normal now to feel my way around.

The footsteps over my head startle me out of my daze. Is he back? Already? It hasn’t been long enough yet, has it?

Maybe he brought food or water for me. I’m willing to do anything he wants if he’ll give it to me. Anything. I have no pride left. I just want a drink.

“Hello?”

My head jerks up. That’s not his voice. That’s a female voice. A young female voice.

Is it someone here to find me?

I muster up all my strength, take a deep breath and try to yell out for help. But when I open my mouth, no words come out. My throat is too dry. I clear my throat best I can. “Help! Help me! I’m down here!”

There is a long pause and scuffling of feet. “Hello? Are you in there?”

“Yes!” My chest fills with relief. “I’m down here! My name is Olivia Mercer! People are looking for me!”

“Hang on,” the female voice says. “There’s a key on the wall.”

I try to get to my feet, but it’s very hard. My left leg can’t bear any weight, and my right leg feels like Jell-O. I’ve got to stand up though. I don’t know how else I’ll get out of here.

I hear the sound of a key turning in a lock. Metal clangs against metal, and something drops to the floor. Before I know it, that flashlight turns on me, so bright that it feels like a knife is jabbing me in my eyes. I squeeze them shut, but it’s still too bright.

“Turn the light away!” I gasp.

“I’m sorry,” the girl says.

And now that the light isn’t blinding me, I can see that she really is a girl—even younger than me. I take in her reddish brown hair and round face. She looks familiar. In my confused state, it takes me a minute to place who she is.

Hannah Cass.

“Hannah,” I gasp. “Your—”

“I know.” Her voice is sad. “I followed him here last night. I didn’t… I really didn’t want to believe it.”

She looks like she’s going to cry, and I can’t blame her. As horrible as this has been for me, it will be really bad for her too. Her life will never be the same after this.

“I think he’s going to find a way to come tonight,” she says. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“Did you call the police?”

Hannah shakes her head. “I didn’t want to call until I was sure that… Anyway, there’s no reception out here. We’ll have to make a run for it. I’ve got my bike.”

Run for it? That isn’t going to be possible, given the state of my ankle. But first things first. I need to get out of this goddamn hole.

“I don’t suppose you can climb out,” Hannah says.

“My ankle is injured,” I admit. “That’s going to make it difficult.”

She scrunches her eyebrows together. “If I give you my hand, do you think you could…?”

I try to stand up again. My right leg is really rubbery. I make it almost to standing, then I accidentally put a tiny bit of weight on my left ankle. The pain is like white hot coals. I scream and collapse on the floor.

“Olivia?”

“I can’t stand up,” I gasp. “I can’t do it. You’ll have to… go get help…”

The thought of sending Hannah away is nothing short of horrifying. It was an eternity waiting for somebody to come here, and I don’t want her to leave. But there’s no way I can climb out of this hole, even with her help. We need somebody bigger and stronger, and possibly a ladder.

I look up at Hannah, who is frowning. “What’s wrong?” I ask her.

“I think I hear something.”

We’re both quiet. I hear my heart pounding in my ears, but nothing else. At first. But then I hear it.

Rustling of leaves. Followed by footsteps. The sound of hinges creaking.

“He’s here,” Hannah whispers.