I haven’t gone outside the prison walls since I got here all those weeks ago. I haven’t heard birds chirping, or felt the breeze against my skin. Earthy aromas fill my senses as I breathe only through my nose.
So many thoughts bounce around my brain, I can’t focus. Are we escaping? Is he going to leave me out here alone? Does he need to tell me something where no one can eavesdrop? Is this taste of the outside world supposed to make my imprisonment harder to take?
Why did he gag me? Is the prison not as remote as I thought? If I scream, is there a chance someone will hear?
We walk along a path through some woods, and soon I see the lake ahead. I remember seeing the other end of it when I first arrived here, but haven’t given it much thought since. After all, what does it matter, if they don’t even let us outside? However, after spending weeks looking at brick walls and cement floors, the lake’s natural beauty brings tears to my eyes. I wish I could thank Reed for this.
He walks me out to the water’s edge and helps me into a small, green rowboat. I wait patiently as he pushes the boat into the water and hops in, staring off at the water to hide my nervousness. I’ve never been a big boat person — I’m not a strong swimmer, and I haven’t been out on the water since day camp as a kid — but I know Reed will be careful.
He rows slowly, sending calm ripples across the glassy surface. As our distance from the shore grows, the more at peace I start to feel.
“Prescott once took me fishing on this lake,” he says at last. “It fucking sucked. It was really more of a photo op for him, to show the public what a cool guy he was. For all I know, there aren’t even any fish in this lake.”
Yeah, that must have been pretty goddamn boring,I think, rolling my eyes and nodding.
“Still, it was nice being out here. I always thought, maybe someday I’d come back and try fishing for real. It sounded relaxing — quiet, no stress. I could have a few drinks. Maybe a friend would come along. I’d learn to gut the fish and get the meat, cook it up…”
After weeks of cereal and turkey sandwiches, my mouth waters, imagining a nice piece of fried fish.
“Well, that’s never going to happen. I hope I never have to come out here again. That’s what happens after you dump a body.”
Oh no.
Terror lurches in my throat. Is that why we’re here?
Then I remember: Corbin. His corpse had to go somewhere. Why not a lake on private property? But that means they chose to hide his death from the world, a pretty chilling prospect.
“I wish I could forget the experience,” Reed continues. “The splash he made, the way the boat — this boat — rocked after I pushed him over. Waiting around to make sure he didn’t resurface… Rowing back, feeling the boat move so much faster because it was half as heavy… It sucked, Quinn. And I still worry I didn’t weigh him down well enough, that he could wash up all bloated and rotting.”
I imagine it, and immediately wish I didn’t.
“And then there’s my other big concern, that someday I’ll end up down there too.”
Yeah, no kidding. I’d be afraid of that if I were him. Prescott, Byron, Jefferson — his bosses are all monsters. If they have no compunction against making Corbin disappear, why not Reed? Why not any of us? The fact that Prescott wants me as some kind of trophy is probably the only thing keeping me alive.
“I’ve done some horrible things here, but until now I’d never covered up a killing,” Reed continues. “If this ever gets out, I’ll probably go to jail. I doubt Prescott will protect me like he did last time. I really have no choice but to do what he says. It’s that or turn my back on everything I know.”
What does Reed mean, like last time? Fuck, I wish he hadn’t gagged me. I want to scream at him right now.
Yes, turn your back on them! Be brave, do the right thing!
“So if they say I need to finish cleaning up this mess, I’m going to have to.”
As he says it, he grabs my arms and lifts me up, holding me up over the edge of the water. Beneath me I see my reflection, eyes wild with pure, animal terror as I instinctively struggle to free myself.
Reed tightens his grip until my arms hurt. “There’s no going back now, don’t you understand?”
No!
Screaming into my gag I shake my head and keep twisting, overwhelmed by fear, unable to think logically, to consider the fact that if Reed drops me, I’m as good as dead.
“Because of you, I will always be tied to Byron and Prescott — they will always have leverage over me.”
Please let me go!
“I may not be an inmate like you, but I can’t leave either.”
My tears come fast now, and my cries echo across the water.