Dusk (Dangerous Web #1) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,50

“I don’t want you to get sick.”

Her eyes blinked, each time staying open longer and focusing on me. “Help...” Her hand went to her throat. Her large diamond wedding band and engagement ring shone, reflecting the sunlight like a beacon in the wilderness.

I reached for her hand and turned it ever so slightly.

That was it. That was the flash I’d seen.

It was a miracle that her ring could make a flash strong enough for me to see, but there wasn’t another feasible answer.

“P-please...” Her voice cracked.

I returned the bottle to her lips. “Drink a little more. It’s okay, don’t force talking.”

She nodded as she again swallowed the clean, clear liquid. After I pulled it away, she said, “Thank you. Um...” She turned from me to Mason and back. “C-can you please help me?”

“Where is Lorna?” I couldn’t stop the question from spewing forward.

Araneae looked down. “Please, I’m pregnant.”

Mason nodded and began to walk away. With his phone in the air, I knew he was trying to get a signal.

I turned back to Araneae. “Are you okay?” I asked. “Your baby?”

“I think,” she said as moisture came to her eyes. Her nose flared as a renegade tear scurried down her dirty, sunburnt cheek. “I think I should see a doctor.”

“We’ll get you to one.” I let out a long breath. “Please, what do you know about Lorna?”

Her head shook. “I-I...”

It was going to be all right. We had Araneae. I had to believe we’d have Lorna too, soon. I lifted my head and looked in every direction. “Is she here?”

“I don’t know,” Araneae said softly. “I’m not sure where we are.”

I laid her head onto the ground before taking her hands. “It’s going to be okay, Araneae. Can you stand?”

Her eyes focused on me as she tilted her head. “My name is Kennedy. Do I know you?”

Lorna

I held tight to the metal frame of the bunk bed, waiting. The door closed and locks engaged. A moment later, light illuminated the cell I now occupied alone. Heaviness filled my chest and questions packed my mind and heart with concern as I ripped the blindfold from my eyes and took in the room I’d once shared.

What had happened to Araneae?

My thoughts went back over the recent past.

After the question-and-answer session, I was fed. It wasn’t more than an inexpensive insta-meal. The macaroni and cheese was gritty with its instant cheese powder. The ham was processed, reminding me of a canned meat we’d eaten as children. The green beans were overcooked and came from a can. It was surprisingly delicious, all in all. I was unsure how long it had been since I’d eaten and as I lifted each forkful to my lips, my stomach rumbled with satisfaction. In that moment, I didn’t care if I was fed filet mignon or instant macaroni. It was food.

The old proverb, beggars can’t be choosers seemed appropriate.

However, I hadn’t begged.

If the food had been withheld much longer, all bets were off.

After the food was gone, I paced the interrogation room, waiting and expecting the woman in charge to return for my answer. It caused the nutrients to percolate in my stomach. Finally, the door opened. It wasn’t her but Jet.

With my blindfold back in place, I was made to walk back to the cell.

Considering I’d arrived to that room unconscious and drugged, I preferred the new option, even if I was expected to do it without sight.

Throughout the journey, Jet was my escort. Since I’d seen him in the lighted room, I assumed the blindfold was to keep me from seeing the other parts of this...whatever this was. We walked for longer than I expected, going up and down concrete stairs. I had no way of knowing if it was necessary or a ruse to make me believe this compound was larger than it was.

At one point, we stepped through a doorway. The floor beneath my bare feet changed to sharp gravel. There was just enough space under my blindfold for me to see the ground below. Even though it was nighttime, the outside was artificially illuminated. Once outside, I lifted my covered eyes to the warm breeze.

While the breeze whistled through the air, there were no sounds of night creatures as I would hear on trips in rural Illinois. No crickets or frogs. I listened for birds or bats. I imagined fireflies sparkling over a field. Yet I had no indication that any of those were present. The only distinguishing characteristic was a scent of pine.