SWEAT DRIPPED DOWN MY face, my head pounded, and I blinked, but nothing happened.
Darkness.
Rubbing my eyes, I blinked again.
Total darkness.
Fear spread across my hot skin and stole my breath. I pushed into a sitting position, and that’s when I heard it. Breaths. Lots of breaths.
The worst headache of my life throbbing against my temples, tears welled. “Hello?” My voice echoed, and I flinched.
No response.
I listened as gooseflesh shot up my arms despite the sweltering heat.
Breaths. Breathing. I heard it, I knew I did.
I whispered this time. “Can you hear me?”
Nothing.
My hands felt the ground, but it felt like metal. A wall at my back, I slowly reached behind me.
Ridges. Metal ridges.
Sheer panic taking over, I furiously patted the wall to my left and right, rising on my knees as I went. Ridge after ridge, a distinctive pattern took over.
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
My stomach bottomed out. I leaned over and heaved.
Convulsing lurches taking over, I gagged and gagged, but nothing except bile came out because I hadn’t eaten.
Seconds, minutes, hours later, the heaving stopped, and I sank back to my ass. My hand came down and plastic crunched. Fear like I’ve never known stole all my reason, and I jerked my hand back before my mind made the connection to the shape.
Panting, no air, I tentatively reached down again and my fingers closed over a plastic bottle. A full bottle. Picking it up, I shook it and almost wept.
Water.
Or drinkable liquid.
I fingered the cap and let out a breath when I twisted and a familiar sound cracked through the silence that had so far only been punctuated with breathing.
Bringing the bottle to my nose, I sniffed.
No scent.
Oh God, what if it was poison?
Bile burning my throat, I decided I didn’t care. I risked a sip, and the best tasting water I’d ever had slid down my throat and ended too quickly. I swallowed two more gulps before I forced myself to stop and wait.
Wait for pain.
Wait for frothing at the mouth.
Wait for death.
Nothing happened except the breathing silence continued.
I capped the water and tried again. “I can hear you.” Whispering, the echo wasn’t as loud, but it was still there and I noticed another sound.
Tilting my head, I listened. It was as if…. I exhaled and held my breath a moment to hear better.
Creaking, but like a yawning creak. And a deep, deep hum that was almost inaudible, it was so low. The pieces falling together, I closed my eyes and held perfectly still. That’s when I felt it.
Pitch.
Then sway.
Pitch and sway.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Pitch and sway.
Holy fucking shit, I was on a ship….
In a cargo container.
With no air.
Panic slammed into me, and I started to hyperventilate.
Oh God, oh God, Oh God.
Something touched the top of my hand, and I shrieked.
The sound echoed so loud, it scared me, and I was on my feet in half a second flat.
“No, no, no!” My hands as guides, I felt my way around the container until I came to metal bars and levers, and I started banging and pulling and yelling. “Help, help!” My foot kicked something. “HELP.” I grabbed the metal rod and shook it as hard as I could.
“Stop,” a female voice hissed.
I froze.
Ship engine yawning, bodies breathing, the stench of urine and sweat. “Who are you?”
“We’re not supposed to talk. Sit down. A bucket is in the corner if you need it.”
Oh dear God. “How many?”
“No talking.”
I felt her move away.
“Wait,” I pleaded in a whisper.
I waited, but she didn’t speak again.
Too many breaths to count later, I shuffled along the wall in what I hoped was the way I’d come because now I wasn’t only terrified, I was desperate to find that water bottle.
My hands feeling each ridge of the cargo container, I cursed myself for not counting how many I had passed. My feet shuffling, my dress stuck to me with sweat, I made my way as far back as I’d thought I’d come, and when I still didn’t encounter the water bottle, I went further.
Welling tears broke their barrier and spilled down my face, but still no water bottle. Biting my lip to keep from sobbing, I dropped to my hands and knees. Crawling, sweeping my hands, I went a couple feet in one direction, then what I thought was twice as far back in the other direction but in my panic I wasn’t sure.
On my third sweep of the ground around me, my fingers brushed against plastic.
Gasping, a sound more cry than victory escaped, and I snatched the water bottle off the filthy floor.
Grit and God knows what all over my hands, I sank back against the wall, pulled my knees up and cradled that bottle like it was more precious than the first time I held Ethan.