Locked Out (No Way Out Series Book 2) Page 7

  “Again, I really don’t know. I don’t know much of anything. No more than you do, anyway.” Things change here all of the time, or at least whenever fuckface Crownwell decides to do this. He doesn’t want anyone getting too comfortable with their lives here.

  “Well, what are we supposed to do? Just keep running? Because it seems like that’s all we’ve been doing for days and I still don’t have any clue what we’re running from or what we’re running to. Are we trying to find a way out?” She keeps asking me the same questions, like I’m going to give her different answers. Even when I was living here as the “caretaker’s son”, I knew next to nothing of my surroundings, the real reasons Mom was working here, as well as any reason why the other people were living here. Whenever I inquired, I was brushed off or ignored. It wasn’t until I overheard Crownwell’s phone call that I knew exactly what this place was. That man will do whatever it takes to keep this place a secret. For good reason. When anyone finds out about Chipley, he’s done. Personally, I’d like to let every prisoner out of this place and let nature take its course, but I’m guessing that won’t happen.

  “Yes, we have to keep running. I want to get us out of here.”

  “Sin, how long are we going to keep running away from things? If it’s not people trying to kill us for food, they’re trying to kill us to become food, and now there are these hawks or whatever the hell they are, and they want us dead too. Neither of us is completely sure we even want to continue running, and yet, we’re supposed to just keep going. We need a plan. We need to know what direction we’re heading in. Don’t you understand this? Don’t you get it? We could be running toward our death!” she shouts with frustration. “Why are we going to keep running toward our death when it would be so easy to just give up and die? I need a reason, Sin. Give me a reason!”

  “Me, Reese. Can I just be enough of a reason right now? I know I’m nothing, and I know I’m an asshole, but, Jesus, for me, will you just have a little hope?” I have no hope, and I’m asking her to have hope. “Why did you want to survive all of that time in the shed? Was it because you had hope that some day you would get out?”

  “Yes,” she says quietly, seeming a little out of it. I take her hand, ignoring the pain in my stomach, the need to vomit, and the throbbing on the back of my head.

  “Look, I wanted to head in this direction for food, but also, I heard a rumor of a way out, but it was only a general direction. What other shot do we have right now?”

  “Sin,” she whispers. “The sky.” She points off into the distance between the thickly covered branches, but all I see is the darkness of the night.

  “What is it?” I ask her, settling back down into the ground. I can’t keep walking right now.

  “It’s orange and yellow. Do you see the shapes? They’re beautiful.” I glance over at her, waiting for her to crack a smile or laugh. Not that I could figure out how to do either of those right now, but I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about.

  “You being funny?” I ask her.

  The confused and yet amazed expression covering her face doesn’t change after my question. Her focus is locked on the small portion of the sky we can see. “No, don’t you see it?” And there’s the smile, but it’s not a joking smile. It’s a smile as if she just found her exit from hell. And it’s worrying me.

  She takes some steps back into the path we were just running down and continues forward as if she were in a trance. Dammit. I stand up and follow her, bouncing from tree to tree as support. We walk for what must be a mile before the trees fade into a large open field of grass. There’s grass. I haven’t seen this much grass in years. Reese slips her boots off and tucks them under her arm as she runs ahead. “Feathers!” she shouts. “Do you feel the feathers beneath your feet, Sin?” Feathers? “And the horses. Look at all of them. I used to ride, did I tell you that?”

  I finally catch up with her and stop her. “Reese, the sky is dark, the feathers are grass, and there are no horses or animals anywhere.” She tugs her arm out of my hand and continues running forward.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shouts back to me. “It’s so beautiful out here.”

  “Reese,” I call calmly. I don’t want to get into a scuffle with her, but I’m pretty sure she’s hallucinating. Another phase.

  “Look, Sin!” It takes me some time to catch up to her again, and when I do, she points off into the distance. “Do you see that?”

  “No, Reese. There’s nothing but grass.” She reaches out and claws her hand around the air, twisting her wrist as if she were opening a door. A door that isn’t there.

  “Are you coming?” she asks. I’m left scratching my head as she ducks her head down a couple of inches and walks in through the empty air as if she were trying not to hit her head on something. “Come on!” I follow her, though, without concern of hitting my head or a door closing in my face. She spins around, her eyes wide with excitement. “Do you see the door?”

  “The one you just walked through?” I ask, trying my hardest to hide the sarcasm. If she is in fact hallucinating, there’s not much I can do to convince her of anything other than what she’s seeing.

  “No, that one,” she points to more open space. She places her boots down into the grass and reaches inside; retrieving the key I gave her while she was in the shed. She kneels down and extends her neck, squinting her eyes at something as if it were right in front of her nose. She places the key carefully into what I only see as air, and twists it. Her other hand mimics the action of opening another door and her head jerks backward. “Oh my God. We’re saved,” she cries. “Sin, it’s the way out. We’re saved. We’re saved.” She falls onto her hands and pulls herself forward. “I see my house. My mom must be inside. I’m going to see my mom. I’m going to show her I’m still alive. She’s going to be so happy, Sin. Do you have any idea?” My heart crumbles into a million pieces at the hope she’s going to lose. I don’t know whether to stop her or let her figure it out. Regardless, she stands back up and continues forward, the smile on her face only growing larger. I can’t break this to her.

  “Reese,” I call over. “Can you wait?” I feel so damn dizzy and weak. I need to close my eyes just to settle myself down.

  “I know it isn’t much, just a little farmhouse for the two of us. But we painted it blue and added the white shutters ourselves. I helped mom plant those rose bushes in front and we lined the little dirt path with plants just so it would feel more like home. It still looks exactly the same. She didn’t leave and she didn’t give up hope. I have to believe that.” Her words stir in my head as I do my best to refocus my attention on where she’s going. I can’t lose her again, and with her lucid visions right now, it would only take a few minutes to get lost. Lost. We are lost in the middle of fucking nowhere. We’ve been walking in so many different directions that I don’t know which way we came from. Not to mention, the horizon only reveals more grass on every side.

  Where did she go? I turn around, finding her—finding her…walking toward a blue house with white shutters. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Come on,” she says, smiling, waving me forward.

  Every step I take is hesitant. A house like this would not be in Chipley. A house like this isn’t in Chipley. She opens the front door and continues waving me toward her. This is insane. I’m most likely insane. I am.

  I enter into the small house that smells of flowers and…just…clean air. And something is cooking, something that’s making my taste buds burn and my cheeks clench. “Mom?” Reese calls out, turning a corner. “Mom!” Before I follow her into the next room, I hear cries—loud, cheerful cries filled with elation. I turn the corner into a small kitchen, seeing Reese squeeze her arms around her mother. Her mother’s face is red, with tears barreling over her cheeks and her hands are wrapped so tightly around Reese that her skin is white. They both fall to the ground, locked within each other’s embrace, crying harder and louder as the seconds pass. “
Mom, I missed you so much.” Her mother—the nurse I remember—doesn’t respond. However, as her eyes open and she finds me, fear illuminates her face and she pulls Reese with her as she backs away across the floor, as if I were standing here with a gun pointed at both of them.

  “I won’t hurt you,” I say softly.

  “You already have,” her mother responds.

  11

  Chapter Eleven

  REESE

  My arms are around my mother’s neck. My mother’s neck. The warmth, her scent, the softness of her skin—I never thought I’d experience any of this ever again. I had forgotten all of my senses. It’s like when Dad died. I took his pillow and I slept on it night after night, inhaling his scent, inhaling all that was left of him until it was gone. The memories always fade just enough to make it impossible to remember exactly what everything felt like or smelled like.

  Tears are rushing down my cheeks and my heart is beating tersely against my chest. I can feel it all. I want to smother myself with the sensory overload. I want to drown in it and erase all of what is behind me.

  Except what is behind me is Sin, who is staring at the two of us with a confused look on his face. Mom seems scared of him, which leaves me questioning what she knows about him. She must blame him, just like Snatcher blamed me for Sin’s outcome. It’s not fair for either of us.

  “Mom, he’s okay. He saved me.”

  Her head shakes quickly, sureness written across her face. “No. No. No,” is all she says. Her voice. I had forgotten the sweetness, the passionate tone in which she enunciates all of her words.

  Sin places his hands up in defense and takes a couple steps back. “It’s okay. I’ll wait outside,” he says.

  “No, Sin. No. Sit down at the table,” I point across the room to the small, oak table we shared so many family dinners at. Standing up, I pull Mom with me as I pull out a chair out for her and for Sin. I sit down on the other side, running my fingers over the worn wood, remembering each scratch and where it had come from. This was one of the only pieces of furniture Mom and I took with us when we moved from Seattle. We couldn’t get rid of our family dinner table. The memories, the laughter, the stories, and jokes—too much had happened at this table to throw away such a keepsake. And now here I am, freed from captivity, sitting across from Mom and Sin, who are both staring at me with concern. Both for different reasons, of course.

  “Reese,” Mom says quietly, reaching across the table and placing her hand over mine. “This is a hallucination. I am not really here. This house and this table, none of it is really here. But you kept me alive in your mind and that is why you can see me, talk to me, assume what I might say and do if I were to see you again. You know I miss you and you know I haven’t given up on you. You also know who you should be wary of trusting, but I know your instincts will keep you safe.”

  “This isn’t a hallucination, Reese,” Sin says to me, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from Mom. “This is real. What she’s saying isn’t true. I wouldn’t be seeing all of this, too, if it weren’t real.”

  My chest aches. My stomach aches more. I look back over at Mom. “Did you tell him what our house looked like?” she asks.

  “Yes, I told Sin before we came inside,” I reply, unsure of what that has to do with anything.

  “Sin. What a peculiar name,” she says.

  “Because you know me as Sinon,” he grunts.

  “Yes, I do,” mom chuckles. “Reese, your mind is weak, as is Sinon’s. You can feed into each other’s hallucinations. Your mind will believe whatever it is told. It’s a powerful weapon you must both be mindful of.”

  “Sinon?” I question. “Is that really your name?”

  “Yes, that is my given name; however, I prefer to go by Sin, as I have for the past several years.”

  “Wasn’t Sinon a Greek god?” I ask. I only ask because I have never heard the name before, outside of my English class when we were learning about the Trojan War.

  “Yes,” he says, breaking our stare and peering down at his fidgeting fingers. “The betrayer of Greek Gods. That’s what I was named after.”

  “Well, it’s just a name. It doesn’t mean you need to live up to it,” I joke with quiet laughter. Becoming sidetracked from the truth that I don’t want to consider, I continue to believe this is all real. I will pretend for as long as I can until I’m proven otherwise. “Mom, is there food? We’re both very hungry.”

  She closes her eyes for a brief second and slowly stands from the table, turning toward the refrigerator. She pulls out two large plates filled with food. She was expecting us…because this isn’t real. She places one plate in the microwave and sets the timer. As she prepares the other plate, I look over at Sin, who is now sweating and pale. “Are you okay?”

  “No.” He swallows hard and places his head down over his folded arms.

  “Goodness gracious,” Mom cries out. “Your head, Sinon. What in the world happened?”

  “The food fight,” I explain.

  “Oh dear. Oh that is not good.”

  “Can you help him?” I ask her. “You’re a nurse.” She leans over the table and places her hand down over my shoulder. “Only you can help him, dear.” Mom would never leave someone in pain or hurt. This isn’t real. Mom takes the second plate from the microwave and places them down on the table. “The memory of taste will quench your hunger temporarily.” I’ve lost my mind. Isn’t that the last phase before there are no more phases? Sin keeps mentioning these damn phases. I can only assume this is it after this.

  I shovel in the warm chicken covered in thick brown gravy and fill my mouth with as many roasted potatoes as possible. I don’t feel sick from eating too much or too fast as I did earlier with the hawk. I feel as though I could eat for days and never feel full. With much effort, Sin lifts his head and does his best to get some of the food into his mouth, too. His eyes look like they aren’t focusing and his cheeks are sagging. I’m scared I’m losing him. “I wish you could help us,” I tell Mom, knowing it’s no more than words drifting through my own head.

  I take gulps of water from the glass Mom has given me. The coolness of the liquid spilling down my throat is soothing, or I guess only the thought of it is soothing. I close my eyes to relish in the comfort. I wish this were real. I wish I were home. I wish this were a nightmare. But as I open my eyes, I remember that my wishes don’t come true. Sin and I are lying in the center of an empty dirt area with nothing in view. No hawks chasing us, no house, no food, no Mom. Just us, sitting in the middle of nowhere, waiting to die. I curl my body into Sin’s and wrap my arm around him, holding him closely.

  His arm wraps around me in return and he sighs into my ear. “I may not wake up, Reese.”

  “I may not wake up either,” I tell him. This is the part I was afraid of. The part when we both give up at the same time. The part where neither of us is strong enough to convince the other to keep pushing forward. I’m eighteen. My life was supposed to be ahead of me. I promised Dad I would go to college and get a good job. That was all he ever wanted. I guess I’m going to have to let you down, Dad.

  “Tell me something about your life before you came to Chipley with your mom,” I ask him softly. “If you die first, I want to say the right things when I bury you.”

  He groans a little before words percolate on his tongue. “I won the state division for my weight in wrestling. I had a full academic scholarship to Oklahoma State, but I decided to put it on hold for two years to stay with my mom in order to protect her from my dad.”

  “You could have been Greek God turned Greek frat boy,” I laugh quietly.

  “Well, as for me, I was going to be a nurse like my mom, but I still had three years of high school left. I hadn’t really begun to make future plans, and now I’m glad I didn’t. I guess I’d feel more sorry for myself than I already do.”

  “Am I supposed to say that if I have to bury you first?” A small smile tugs at the corner of Sin’s lips, even though his eyes are still c
losed.

  “No, you can say I was a fighter and a survivor until there was nothing left to survive for.”

  “Well if I’m the one saying this, that means I wasn’t enough for you to survive for.”

  “You’re right,” I tell him. “Let’s just plan to stay alive.”

  “Plans don’t always work out,” he says, his words slurring into a long breath.

  I listen to his even breaths float along the slight breezes. The white noises of the quiet surroundings ease me into a sleep I’ve needed for days. I do my best to block out the thought of people trying to eat me, killer birds, and a dream of a life I left behind.

  A dreamless/nightmareless night brings in the morning dew, covering my exposed skin with droplets of water. A chill travels up my spine and my eyes struggle against the heaviness of my lids.

  The chill and the dew immediately disappear when I am able to focus on my surroundings. I’m in my bed at home under a warm blanket with Sin lying beside me. Our naked bodies are meshed together in a tight embrace and a warm flush fills my cheeks. “Sin,” I whisper. The whisper seems to echo between the walls, but doesn’t have much of an effect over Sin since he doesn’t budge. I press the heel of my palm into his side and nudge his heavy body.

  His eyes finally peel open as the sunlight pours into my room, shining directly into his eyes, highlighting the blues and green hues that make up the abstract canvas of beautiful colors within his irises. “Guess we’re still alive,” he says, inspecting me with a gentle smile.

  “Do you see the bedroom we’re in? And the bed we’re lying in? Do you see the cream colored walls and the blue teal comforter covering our bare bodies?” I ask.

  “Keep talking,” he says.

  “Do you feel the warmth from the sun pouring into the white, trim-framed windows? Do you feel my skin against yours?”

  Sin moves so that he is hovering over me, staring down into my eyes, making me believe this is real. His hands travel aimlessly over my body, warming every inch of me, forcing a sensation of need to travel through every one of my nerve endings. Maybe death would feel like this. His lips press against my neck and down my center, his tongue tracing circles along the way. Would my breaths be so calm if this were happening? Would the swelling ache between my legs keep me begging for more? After he covers every part of me with his tongue, Sin pulls himself back up to where our lips can reconnect. With ease, he slips inside of me, thrusting and grinding his body against mine, bringing about a pleasure that makes me want to cry tears of happiness. The grip he has around my waist isn’t tight enough; firm enough, strong enough, and I want more. “I want more.” Harder and heavier, his body pounds against mine, my insides swelling with warmth and a mind numbing pleasurable ache. Moans sing from my throat and my body moves on its own accord, keeping in rhythm with his steady movements.