The Host (The Host #1)(47)

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.

The white vegetables were crunchy in texture, woody in taste. Some kind of root. They weren’t as satisfying as the soup or as tasty as the bread, but I was grateful for their bulk. I wasn’t full—not close—and I probably would have started on the tray next if I thought I’d be able to chew through it.

It didn’t occur to me until I was finished that they shouldn’t be feeding me. Not unless Jared had lost the confrontation with the doctor. Though why would Jared be my guard if that were the case?

I slid the tray away when it was empty, cringing at the noise it made. I stayed pressed against the back wall of my bubble as Jared reached in to retrieve it. This time he didn’t look at me.

“Thank you,” I whispered as he disappeared again. He said nothing; there was no change in his face. Even the bit of his sleeve did not show this time, but I was sure he was there.

I can’t believe he hit me, Melanie mused, her thought incredulous rather than resentful. She was not over the surprise of it yet. I hadn’t been surprised in the first place. Of course he had hit me.

I wondered where you were, I answered. It would be poor manners to get me into this mess and then abandon me.

She ignored my sour tone. I wouldn’t have thought he’d be able to do it, no matter what. I don’t think I could hit him.

Sure you could. If he’d come at you with reflective eyes, you’d have done the same. You’re naturally violent. I remembered her daydreams of strangling the Seeker. That seemed like months ago, though I knew it was only days. It would make sense if it had been longer. It ought to take time to get oneself stuck in such a disastrous mire as the one I was in now.

Melanie tried to consider it impartially. I don’t think so. Not Jared… and Jamie, there’s no way I could hurt Jamie, even if he was… She trailed off, hating that line of thought.