The Cave Ch. 01

I had resorted to rapidly rocking back and forth to keep my mind off my bladder, the pain of which had deepened unbearably with the dread of waiting. They had been gone so long the fire was beginning to die out. The chill of the cave was beginning to settle. I called out to them many times, but I was only answered by my own hollow echoes.

All through today, I thought Amy was being punished. But now I speculated if I was being punished instead. What for? What had I done wrong?

Eventually, I had to stand and pace in place to ease my bladder but even that stopped working. Squatting down, I held myself steady on the chains and the blast of my water against the floor seemed deafening.

But it did mask the sound of my weeping.

*

Hours later, when there was only just a few glowing embers left in the fire, I heard slow foot-clicks coming down the cave hallway. I was miserable and cold, sitting in a puddle of my own waste. By the time it occurred to me I should stand up, I saw Pratt slouched at the mouth of the tunnel.

Alone.

"Where's Amy?" I asked.

His bleak eyes shined like glass in the available light.

"Where's Amy?" I shouted at him and my chin began to quiver uncontrollably.

Even if he understood me, he didn't respond. Instead, he shuffled across the room to the bed and curled into the fetal position with his back to me.

I felt my face crumple and tears began streaking down my cheeks. They ran off my jaw and splashed on the flesh of my breasts.

"What did you do to her?" I sobbed accusingly into the near darkness. I didn't expect an answer. I just wanted him to hear my angry voice. Whatever he was feeling—whatever was making him slink off into the shadows—it wasn't enough and I wanted him to hurt more.

Amy was a lot of things, but she didn't deserve to die. And as I sat there in my own rank urine, naked and weeping, my stomach gave a ravenous rumble...

...and I wondered if I was not far behind.