I don’t know. I literally don’t know if either of them will intervene because it’s a risk, and this egomaniacal monster wants me gone. He commands hundreds of people who are bent to his will.
My only choice is to try to run. I know his home is near the south gate, but those are constantly surveilled, meaning not an easy entry or exit. I don’t know this area well enough to escape it, on foot or in the dark, but I’m going to have to try without catching anyone’s attention, without my weapons and just the clothes on my back.
This is the only choice I have left. So, as he rambles on, playing his mind games, I assess my options. David is tall and strong, but if he underestimates me even the slightest bit, then I have a chance. I just need to take the moment and him by surprise when the opportunity arises.
“David,” Shepherd says, and I raise my head. “It’s time. Take Lola to the hole.”
The what? Shepherd rises and exits the room, leaving David behind to do his dirty work, and I’m instantly overcome with rage at this man for recruiting people back to this life, to this hellhole, to this tyrant.
“You fucking psychopath! You bring people here for this?” I retort, standing when he approaches.
“Shut up!” he growls, grabbing my arm and shoving me forward before pulling it roughly behind my back.
I bite back the cry on my lips and allow myself to be pushed along because the more I act helpless, the easier it will be to take my moment.
David leads me back out the door, and with no street lamps or lighting in the homes, it’s virtually pitch black, with nothing but the moon to light our way. Although the stars twinkle brightly above us, adding a glimmer to see by, I don’t have time to enjoy them because I’m going to fucking disappear in the hole, whatever that is, if I don’t do something and now.
My adrenaline is pumping so quickly through my veins that I’m almost lightheaded with anticipation as David pushes me roughly, and I stumble under my feet, catching my momentum before I fall. He says nothing while we walk and I can’t help but hope for someone to emerge, to see what’s happening, only to realize that even if someone didn’t think this was okay, they might be too scared to do anything about it.
I don’t know where we’re headed, so I can’t be sure when to take my opportunity, but I choose not to do it on the main street, where there are undoubtedly people willing to assist David with his nefarious plans. So, I keep my head down and stumble my way along, ensuring I put a few extra fumbling footsteps in for added effect.
Once we clear the main part of this fucked-up town, I raise my head slightly and survey the area. We’ve passed the restaurant where everyone gathers for food, sermons, etcetera. It’s quieter, more menacing if that’s even possible.
David pushes me to the left and down a darkened street. All I can see are dark buildings, and it’s not a street I’ve been down since I got here, making me regret my decision not to explore and get the lay of the land. Lesson learned the hard way: do not wallow in the shit when psychopaths surround you.
We’re far from the gates now. There’s no one around to stop me, and I don’t know how much more time I have, so I go for it and drop to my knees. Pain shoots through my knee caps, but David loosens his hold, before tripping over me. Flinching away, I curl into a ball and roll to the side, trying to get out from under his arms, but once he’s down, he grabs my feet as I go.
Panting heavily, I kick out at him, and he grunts. “Fuck, Lola. Hold still.”
I don’t respond. My mind is solely focused on escape, and I can’t be bothered by conversation. Kicking out, I gain freedom and roll to my knees, but I don’t get far before David tackles me to the ground.
“Unh,” I cry out when I hit the cement hard before everything goes black.
When I wake, my skull feels like it’s pushing its way out of my forehead, and nausea roils in my belly.
Blinking to clear my vision, I wave my arm in front of my face, but I can’t see anything. It’s pitch black.
There is no sound, and I’m lying on the ground, cold and hard against my aching body. With a groan, I roll to my side and convulse as puke pushes its way past my lips.
Helplessly, I retch for a few minutes, crying because each painful convulsion of my stomach creates a slice of pain that only worsens my condition.
When the retching finally subsides, I collapse to my back and lay a few more minutes as the throbbing consumes me before I push to my knees and reach out into the darkness with my hands.
Where am I? Am I alone?
My throat closes and I drop to my ass before shuffling backward until my back meets what I presume to be a wall.
What if there’s a zombie in here?
My skin crawls at the thought of someone watching me in the dark, and the familiar feeling of air catching in my ribs rises, but I will it away with everything I have and focus on my breathing.
In. Out. In. Out.
Panting for air, I ignore the tight feeling and touch the wall behind me before easing inch by inch on my knees along the cold, hard surface.
“Fuck,” I whisper when I reach a corner, and lean my throbbing head against the cool wall.
I think I’m going to puke again, but before that becomes a reality, I continue my trek until I reach another corner and another, ending at the fourth corner, and I assume the spot where I started.