The Lost Years (3 page)

Chapter 4

It was early afternoon the next day when I heard the vehicle in the distance.

“I believe you had a visitor last night,” Layla said.

“He said Craven is dead.”

“Oh yes. I should have mentioned that.” Layla grinned. “Must have slipped my mind. Whoops.”

“It's a lie. I'd know if Craven was dead.”

“I saw his body. Seems your fated mate met his fate.” She laughed at her own joke.

“Who is that scum vampire who came to see me last night?”

“He's the one who is going to kill you.”

“What's his name?”

“You don't need to know that.”

“He killed my father. I want to know his name.”

Layla began to unpack the food.

“Why are you working with him?”

“Why don't you shut the fuck up?” She slid the tray over to me.

“I don't want it,” I said.

Layla shrugged. “Please yourself. Don't expect to get double rations tomorrow.”

“I won't want any tomorrow either.”

“What are you planning to do? Starve yourself to death? Good riddance.” Layla turned and went back the way she'd come.

The same thing happened the next day. Layla showed little concern as to whether I ate or not. On the third day, when the young male arrived, I again rejected the food he had brought. For a moment, I thought he was about to say something, but he left without a word.

By day six, I was beginning to feel the effects of having not eaten for so long.

“You have to eat something, you stupid bitch!” Layla screamed at me. “You'll die if you don't eat.”

“What do you care?”

It was the first time I'd seen Layla stumped for a response.

It was a gamble, and I wasn't sure if it would pay off, but I had nothing to lose. It was obvious they wanted me alive for now at least which meant I had one, and only one, bargaining chip. My life. I didn't think they would stand by and let me die of starvation. If they wanted me to eat, they'd have to at least start talking to me. I was under no illusion that they'd let me go, but if I could negotiate a few concessions, then I might find a way out. I didn't dwell on the other alternative—that they might somehow force feed me.

*********

I didn't recognise the noise which woke me early the next morning. Hunger pains hit me the moment I opened my eyes. My body was crying out for food. I couldn't recall ever feeling weaker than I felt right then. What were those noises? There was definitely more than one vehicle, and they sounded much larger than a car or van. Lorries perhaps. There were other sounds too. Drilling and banging. Voices too. I could hear a number of male voices, but they were too far away for me to pick up any words. The lack of food was affecting my ability to think clearly, so it took me a while to figure out that it sounded like some kind of construction site. Road works maybe, but then I'd been sure there wasn't a road anywhere close by. Surely I'd have heard the traffic before now if there was. Maybe I could somehow attract their attention, but I'd have to do it before Layla or the young male arrived. How though?

If I could somehow break the window, I could shout for help. It was a long shot, but what did I have to lose? I looked around for something to throw.  The only thing I had was the metal mug. It was heavy, and with enough force, it might smash the window provided the glass wasn't reinforced. It was a long shot, and I'd only have the one chance. If I missed, it would most likely land on the floor beyond my reach. Even if I hit it there was no guarantee it would break. I might have been more confident if I hadn't felt so weak. My aim had to be true.

The key turned in the lock, and the young male walked in just as I'd been about to launch the mug.

“What are you doing?” He eyed me suspiciously

“Exercises,” I said, as I put the mug on the draining board.

“I've brought food.” He held up the basket. “You have to eat.”

Before I could give the usual response, he continued, “Please.”

I was stunned by his tone and the word he'd spoken. It might have been my imagination, but he sounded genuinely concerned.

“I've already told Layla. I won't be eating again.”

“What will it take for you to eat?” he asked.

“The question threw me. I hadn't thought as far as this. What did I want? To go home, but that wasn't going to happen.

“What if we allow you to go outside?” he said. “Would you eat then?”

“What about this thing?” I held up my arm which had the shackle around the wrist.

“We'll remove that.”

This was more than I could have hoped for. If I could get out of the door unchained, I'd have every chance of making my escape. They would no doubt assign men to guard me, but I'd take my chances with them. Better to die trying to escape than to spend the rest of my life in here.

“So, will you eat now?” he asked.

“Why should I trust you? How do I know that once I've eaten you won't change your mind?”

“You have my word on it.”

I looked him in the eyes for the first time. They were a dark shade of orange. If Layla had made the very same offer, I'd have told her where to stuff it, but there was something about this young male—something that made me want to trust him.

“What's your name?” I asked.

“Marlow.”

“If I agree to eat, do you swear you will remove the chains, and allow me outside?”

“Yes. If you eat, you will be allowed outside tomorrow.”

“Without the chains?”

“Without the chains. I swear.”

I studied his face. He was being truthful. What choice did I have anyway? I had to put my trust in him.

“Okay.”

“Good.” He allowed himself only the briefest smile. It was the first time I'd seen any display of emotion from him. “I've brought you extra food,” he said, as he unpacked the basket.

“You were very sure of yourself.” 

“Not really, but I did hope I could make you see sense.” He slid the tray over to me. “There you go.”

“You can join me if you like.” I held out the bread.

“No, thanks.” His fleeting smile again.

“One more thing.” I said. “I want you to be the one to let me out tomorrow.”

“I'm not sure if—”

“It's you or there's no deal.” I began to slide the tray back to him. “If
she
comes the deal is off.”

“Okay,” he said. “I'll make sure I'm here tomorrow, but now you must eat.”

I devoured the food quickly. After such a long period of going without food, I knew I should have taken my time, but hunger got the better of me. Only when I'd finished, did he leave. I could already feel the first twangs of a stomach ache.

The mug was still on the drainer. I could still try to smash the window, but it wasn't worth the risk. My chances of hitting it were slim. My chances of breaking it were even slimmer. Even if I managed it, there was no guarantee I'd be able to catch anyone's attention—particularly with so much noise being generated by the construction work.

I now had a pounding head to go alongside my stomach ache. My mouth was bone-dry too. As soon as I began to walk over to the sink, my head began to swim, and my legs turned to jelly. I knew I was about to pass out, and just managed to get back to the bed before everything went black.

Chapter 5

How long had I been out? When I woke, my stomach ache had gone, but my head ached like hell. It took me a few seconds to work out what had changed: the construction noise had stopped.

All I could hear was birdsong once again. The last thing I could remember was eating the food which Marlow had left for me. Why drug me now? It made no sense. I'd almost come to believe I could trust him—I wouldn't make that mistake again.

I swung my legs off the bed, and was about to stand, when I noticed that the chain was nowhere to be seen. The shackle had been removed from my arm. Where it had been, a red mark was still visible just above my wrist. I rushed over to the door, and turned the handle. It was no longer locked, so I slowly pulled the door open.

The smell was over-powering. I'd almost grown accustomed to the sweet, sickly odour which permeated the inside the cabin, but outside it was ten times stronger.

The mesh fence was over twelve-feet high. It circled the small wooden cabin which had been my home for the last few weeks. Facing the front of the cabin was a gate built into the fence. I realised now what the construction sounds had been. Beyond the fence was a clearing, and beyond that was dense woodland. Tyre tracks were visible along a narrow track which ran from the cabin to a gap in the tree line.

The fence had been erected so close to the cabin that it took me less than a minute to walk the perimeter. My new prison cell was only marginally bigger than my old one. At least I was no longer shackled. More importantly, I was outside in the fresh air where a light breeze brushed against my face. There was a clear blue sky, and the sun was beginning to rise above the distant treetops.  It was early morning—I must have been out for almost twenty-four hours.

It wouldn't have been too difficult to scale the fence, but surely they knew that. I picked up a small stick and tossed it at the mesh. Sparks crackled as the stick made contact. Just as I'd thought, the fence was electrified.

I sat on the steps of the cabin, staring out over the clearing. If I was only going to be held for a few weeks, why bother going to all that time and expense to erect a fence?  They must intend for me to be there for some considerable time.

“Morning!” Marlow called from the other side of the fence. Where had he come from? I hadn't heard him approach.

I met his gaze for a moment, but then looked away.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

I didn't reply.

“It's better than being locked up in those four walls all day,” he said.

“Are you expecting me to thank you?” I began to walk towards the fence.

“I have your food.” He held up a basket.

“Is it drugged again?”

“I'm sorry about—”

“Don't! I don't want to hear your excuses or lies. You're worse than Layla. She's a bitch, but she doesn't pretend otherwise. You make out you're doing me some big favour. Then you drug me.”

Underneath the gate was a small gap, which was just deep enough for him to slide the tray of food through.

“And you can keep this.” I kicked the tray—sending the food spiralling through the air. “Where is this place?”

“I can't tell you that.”

“You can't tell me much of anything, can you? Where's Craven?”

Marlow hesitated for several seconds. “You already know the answer to that.”

“Layla said he's dead, but that's a lie. Craven isn't dead. He'll be searching for me right now. And when he finds me, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes.”

“You're wrong.”

“How do you know he's dead? Have you seen his body?”

“No, but—”

“That's what they told you isn't it? Well they're lying.”

Marlow made to leave.

“Wait! How come you were given this assignment or did you volunteer? Babysitting me can't be very exciting. Layla, I can understand. She obviously enjoys seeing me locked up, but why you? Did you hate my father too?”

“No,” he snapped. “I respected your father.”

“Then why are you supporting the people who killed him?”

“I can't talk about it. I have to go.” With that, he walked across the clearing, and disappeared into the wood. 

I thought I'd sensed a weakness in Marlow. Maybe I'd be able to take advantage of that. Layla's resolve was rock solid. I was in no doubt she'd kill me without a second thought. When I'd mentioned my father, I'd seen something in Marlow's eyes. What had it been? Compassion? I wasn't absolutely sure, but it had been enough to give me a spark of hope. I had to stop being confrontational, and try to win his trust. If I could somehow persuade him that he was safe to come inside the enclosure, I'd have my chance to strike. 

What about Craven? Even though I'd rubbished Layla's claims that he was dead, I wasn't as confident as I'd tried to make out. If he was still alive, surely he would have found me by now.