He jerks it away from me and starts pulling on the straps that hold him captive to the dingy, metal bed frame. “You know …” I crouch next to him. “I asked my little doll how she was able to escape so quickly. And she told me that we hadn’t tied her arms separately and left her legs free. And it got me thinking …” I stand and look over him. He’s still only in his boxers, spread-eagled. “I should tie each one individually.”
We’ve had him locked in the tunnels for two days now since I buried Steve. I didn’t want to have to water him every three days, so I figured now was a good a time as any. At some point, the LSD wore off and he’s pissed himself at least a couple of times.
He thrashes on the bed, but he’s not going anywhere. Henley taught me some tricks. Plus the rope Derek and I tied around the bed and his waist gives an added bonus.
He screams behind the tape that Dax had wrapped around his entire head covering his mouth. Silencing him. He doesn’t deserve to speak, or breathe for that matter, but it’s coming. He’ll be dead soon.
Walking over to the wall, I reach up and run my hands over the scratch marks of the boys who were trapped all those years ago, and my heart breaks for them. Dying in such a horrific way. To know there was no hope. No way out. And that their very own turned on them, only saving themselves.
I look down at the boxes of vodka at my feet. I had James buy me as much as he could find. He didn’t hesitate. When he had it delivered to my mom’s, all he said was I don’t want to know what this is for. Then he walked away. He knew I wasn’t going to be drinking it.
“Derek?” I knock my hand into his shoulder.
He jumps back. “Huh?” His wide eyes meet mine.
He’s getting better at being a Reaper—one soul at a time. “Help me dump these out.” Bending down, I pick two bottles up and hand them to him. Then take two myself.
He walks over to a stack of mattresses in the front corner by the door and dumps the contents before going to the opposite one. I start doing the same, covering what’s left of the beds and all over the old sheets and towels we found in the washroom and linen closet. Finding things to burn in a concrete room was not easy. But it’s going to have to do.
I walk back over to Scout and pour a bottle on him. “Drink up,” I joke and laugh at myself.
“I think that’s enough.” Derek sighs, tossing the last empty bottle we have down here in the box. “Well, that was everything we had, so hopefully it is.”
I lean down to get eye level with Scout. “You know, I always wanted your doll.”
He jerks, slinging vodka off his face, blinking rapidly. I bet that shit stings.
“But you already knew that, didn’t you?” I chuckle, gripping his wet cheeks in my hand, digging my fingers into the duct tape. “Thanks for letting me borrow her.” I throw his words back at him. “But just so you know, I’ll never make the mistake you did and share her.”
“They’re almost here,” Dax says, entering the room with Rellik.
I let go of his face and tap the side of it. “Burn in hell, Scout. I hope it’s everything you deserve.” And stand. “I’m going upstairs. Push him over into the back corner.”
Leaving the room, I make my way down the long and dark hallway, using a small flashlight for direction. I take the stairs at the end up to the fourth floor. I immediately take a right and climb out an opening where a window once was and make my way onto the roof. I crouch down, all but crawling across it. Then I drop down to where the roof lowers for the fourth-floor stops and jump down onto the third-floor roof. I come to a stop at the opening in the ceiling and sit down. Waiting. Knowing it won’t be much longer. My box of alcohol sits next to me. I brought it up here earlier so it’d be ready.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to see it’s a message from Henley.
My Little Doll: When will you be home?
Me: Everything okay?
She doesn’t know what the guys and I are doing, and we decided to keep it that way. She knows Steve is dead, and I’m pretty sure she thinks Scout is already dead. But her fucks for him flew out the window after discovering he recorded Steve raping her.
My Little Doll: Yeah.
She keeps her next message short. We haven’t spoken any more about it. I’ve heard her discussing it with my mother, and she just cries. I hate to bring it up. She will talk to me about it when she feels comfortable—if ever. If not, then that’s okay.