part0016

The journey from the dream world to the stark reality had only taken a second. Just enough time for her brain to catch up.

Moments ago, she had been dreaming that she and her family had moved to a horse farm. It was her birthday and her father led her to the barn to surprise her with a horse of her own. A beautiful white stallion. She had never ridden a horse in her life but was somehow able to climb on and run the animal through the fields and over the creeks. But then the horse bucked, throwing her to the ground. An intense pain radiated from her neck. It was the pain that woke her.

Before she opened her eyes, she was in her bedroom. Surrounded by her posters, heaps of clothes, and the electric guitar she had begged her parents to buy her but never learned to play. She felt the warmth and security of the familiar four walls. But it was short lived.

The sensations of reality rushed back. The hard concrete beneath her and against the back of her head. The cramp in her neck, caused by the awkward position she had slumped into. The putrid odor.

Now, standing in the center of the small cell with her knees slightly bent and her fingers stretched out like a cat baring its claws, she was at a loss for what to do next. There was no one to fight. Nowhere to run. There was only her. And the other two lost souls with whom she would share the nightmare.

Zoe looked at the girl crumpled in the corner to her left. She was wide awake, looking back at her with a blank stare. Bruised. Badly beaten. Her lips were cracked, and her long blonde hair was filthy and matted. The light-yellow sundress she wore looked as though it had been used as a mechanic’s rag.

To her right, it was much the same story. Bloodied and covered in dirt, the petite girl’s wide eyes were blank. Her short hair stood out in all directions.

Sunlight streamed in from behind the rusted iron bars and around the corner. It wasn’t bright, but there was enough light to see clearly.

Graffiti covered every inch of the room and the visible portion of the hallway.

A pile of human waste sat at the intersection of the iron gate and the wall. A puddle of liquid crept along the floor toward the center of the cell like tentacles. Zoe tried to put it out of her mind that, eventually, nature would call, and she would also be forced to contribute to the squalor.

As grim as the surroundings were, Zoe took some solace in the fact that they were familiar. Anyone who had grown up on the island had been in similar rooms. Tons of abandoned forts and bunkers, built during World War II, could be found around the island. Zoe wasn’t sure if it was an urban myth, but she was told that the underground rooms and tunnels were infested with rats. Others swore that cults of devil worshipers lived deep within and were waiting to snatch unsuspecting children and use them as human sacrifices.

Despite the spooky stories, Zoe had visited Fort Wetherill often, and once even worked up the courage to enter one of the tunnels. She had only made it a few feet before succumbing to her fear that she would be attacked by a giant rodent. Satan worshipers were a little farfetched. Rats, on the other hand—well, it wasn’t worth the risk.

Although Zoe assumed she was at Fort Wetherill State Park, other places had similar structures. She had seen them at Fort Getty Park and a few other locations around the island.

The common theme in these parks, other than the forts, was that they were heavily visited. In her experience, during the daytime there were always people walking, picnicking, taking pictures, and doing whatever else they do. Surely if she were to yell loud enough, someone would hear and come to investigate. She sucked in as much air as her lungs would hold.

“Help!” she screamed. “Hel—“

Zoe felt the clammy fingers press against her mouth.

“Be quiet,” the short-haired girl whispered. “You’re going to get us killed.” The girl put her lips against Zoe’s ear. Even at that distance, her voice was barely audible. “We’ve tried that. No one can hear us. But he can. If it’s the Captain, he will hurt you. He will hurt all of us. Please sit down and stop talking. Please.”

The short-haired girl let go and dropped back into her corner.

What had this man done to these girls? Why were they so terrified to make a sound? Was she the only one who was willing to put up a fight?

Zoe moved to the gate. A modern looking padlock ran through two rusted metal tabs. One attached to the gate and one to the stationary section of bars. She tugged at it. Secure. She looked around for a loose piece of concrete or a rock or anything that she could use to try to break the rusty tabs. There was nothing.

The other two girls remained still and quiet.

Zoe found the silence maddening. In retrospect, it was better than the sound that broke it. Heavy footsteps. The crinkling of plastic.

A ghostly shadow appeared in the opening to the hallway. A man appeared after it.

“I’ve brought you something to eat,” he said. He carried a white plastic Cumberland Farms bag in one hand and what appeared to be a collapsible camp stool in the other.

Finally, Zoe had a clear view of her captor. She examined every detail of his face. She was struck by how normal he looked. No scars. No jagged teeth. No neck tattoos. Just a soft expression and a pleasant demeanor.

He had neatly parted hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and wore a short-sleeved button-down shirt. He looked like a typical dad. Was this the same man who’d assaulted and kidnapped her? It was too dark the night before to get a good look at the man. But this man had a different bearing. His voice was higher. No, this was someone entirely different.

“What’s your name?” His full attention was focused on Zoe.

Zoe shifted her eyes to the short-haired girl for some direction. Was she supposed to answer him? Wasn’t she supposed to be silent? There was no help from the corner.

“Ah,” the man said. “They’ve told you, have they? Not to speak?”

“That’s his rule, not mine. I apologize for his behavior. The Captain tends to lose his temper quickly. It’s a terrible personality flaw, in my opinion. Anyway, he’s not here so we can talk freely. Understand?”

“What do you want with us?” Zoe’s voice quivered.

“I want to help you, of course.”

The man leaned the folded stool against his leg, reached into the bag and withdrew a small clear plastic package.

The man tossed the package through the bars. It landed on the ground in front of the short-haired girl. She tore into the package and shoved one of the two chocolate covered cakes into her mouth. She devoured the second before fully swallowing the first.

He threw another. The second girl pounced.

“Would you like one?” the man asked.

“They’re delicious. You sure?”

Zoe didn’t react. She didn’t want anything from him. To be beholden to him in any way, despite her growling stomach.

The man opened the stool, placed it two feet away from the bars, and calmly sat. He crossed his legs. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes, you were about to tell me your name.”

“It’s Stacy,” Zoe said.

“Your real name,” the man snapped back.

“Nice to meet you, Zoe.”

The whole thing had become surreal. Nice to meet you? What kind of sick mind game was this guy playing?

“You can call me Doc, if you’d like,” he said.

“Doc? Are you a Doctor?” Zoe asked.

“I am.” He leaned in. “The very best.”

“Why are you doing this?” Zoe fought back the urge to cry. “If you’re a doctor, you’re supposed to help people. What did I do to deserve being locked in a cage? What did any of us do?”

“It’s for your own good, Zoe. I can treat you. I can cure you. I know I can.”

“But I’m not sick.”

“What? I’m not.” Zoe’s tone became more defiant.

“All of my patients say that. It just goes to show how ill you really are. Trust me, you are in good hands. I told you, I’m the best in the world. My therapies are groundbreaking. They’ll see, they’ll all see. The Captain doesn’t believe I can save you. That’s fine. We’re going to show him that he’s wrong. The trick is to catch the disease before it takes over the entire girl. It’s simple, really. When you think about it.”

As he spoke, his gaze drifted away from Zoe and fixed on the ceiling. What started out as pleasant had become almost deranged. Zoe didn’t understand what he was jabbering about, but there was one message she received loud and clear. This guy was screwed up in the head.

“Let me out. Please. I want to go home.” Zoe pleaded.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”

Zoe balled her fists. “I hate you!” She turned her back to hide the tears that had begun to flow.

“Why would you say that? I love you, Zoe. I love all of you. I would never hurt you like he does. It’s him you hate, not me. And, believe me, I understand. The Captain is difficult to get along with.” He looked over his shoulder. “Can I tell you a secret?” He took another glance behind him and lowered his voice. “He thinks he’s in charge. But I just let him believe that. I’m not afraid of him.”

Zoe wiped her cheeks and stole a glimpse of the other two girls. Both sat with their heads bowed, staring at the floor. This had to be a dream. The Doctor. The Captain. What were they, characters from a comic book? If she ever got out of there, no one would ever believe the story. But she would get out of there, somehow. She just needed a plan.

As crazy as the Doctor sounded, he seemed less dangerous. Having been beaten and bound by the Captain, Zoe was aware of his capabilities. So far, the Doctor seemed only interested in administering psychotherapy. And, while she was no expert, there seemed to be a rift between him and his buddy. It was her only hope.

She steadied herself and turned to face him. “I can tell you’re smarter. That’s why you’re really in charge. You could let us go if you wanted, and there’s nothing he could say about it.”

“You’re exactly right, young lady. He can’t tell me what to do. I could let you go if I wanted.” He grinned. “But why would I ever want to do that?”