Page 37 of The Cult

I take a deep breath in and realize I’m already in bed. How did that happen? I look up at the ceiling but can only see a faint outline of the white painted wood boards above me. I thought I’d fall asleep instantly. Everyone else has. Turning my head, I see Cheyenne in the bed next to me where Anna slept that first night. She’s snoring away fast asleep.

Maybe if I count sheep. That’s never worked, but I could try. One. Two. Oh, I didn’t imagine them jumping over a fence. That’s what you have to do, isn’t it?

I start over again, picturing a white wooden fence like I’ve seen on TV. One sheep. Two sheep. Three sheep.

Finally, I start to drift off, but I feel a hand on my arm. It’s heavy, and I can’t push it away. I’m still very relaxed, but something inside me says I should be afraid.

“What…” I want to say more, but I can’t get the words out.

“Keep your mouth shut and come with me.”

I immediately recognize the voice. It’s that Nash guy. What is he doing here?

Shaking my head, I want to tell him I won’t go, but I can’t speak now. Even worse, I can’t move my limbs. I’m stuck here in this bed and can’t fight him off.

“Come on!” he whispers angrily. “We don’t have time for this.”

I keep shaking my head but can’t get a word out. After a few seconds, he shines a light in my eyes, and I want to close them or turn away to escape the brightness, but I can’t move.

He frowns and turns off the flashlight as he groans, lifting me out of the bed. I can’t fight back. I can’t even squirm in an attempt to get away. What’s happened to me?

Something is very wrong. I want to cry out, but I can’t seem to speak. Did he do this to me? I didn’t feel anything like a pinch that would indicate he gave me a shot of something.

I’m limp in his arms as he carries me through the darkness, but I know when he walks outside because I can hear the sound of the cabin door softly close. At least something in me is still working.

Nash doesn’t say a word as he hurries to wherever we’re going. My head lolls around like my neck can’t hold it up anymore, and every few seconds, it bounces off his flexed bicep. My nose bumps into his skin, and the scent of soap fills my nostrils.

So I can hear and smell. I can’t speak, and I can’t move. I don’t know if I can see because once he put his flashlight away, we’ve been in pitch darkness. I have no idea where we’re going. Maybe back to Micah? I can’t think of anywhere else.

It doesn’t take him long to get to where he’s taking me. I feel him walk up a set of stairs and hear him open a door, and a second or two later, he sets me down on a bed. I wait for him to turn on a light, but that doesn’t happen before I hear the door open again. I strain to listen for any sign he’s still here with me, but it’s deathly silent.

I try to move my arms and legs—at least I think I try—but they don’t budge an inch. I can’t get away from here, and as the moments pass, fear begins to fill me. I’m in danger, although I don’t know why. Did I say something wrong in my meeting with Micah? I don’t think so. I thought he liked me and believed what I said about wanting to be a part of his group. Did I do something wrong when we went to see him talk this morning? I can’t imagine what, although I remember very little of the day after we arrived at the tent.

How odd.

My mind races even as my body sluggishly refuses to respond to my silent, desperate commands. I feel like I wasn’t able to think a few minutes ago, but now thoughts run through my consciousness, frightening me. I can’t control what my brain is doing.

What is wrong with me?

The sound of the doorknob turning makes my entire body go on red alert, and a moment later, the door opens with a horrible squeak I didn’t notice when we arrived earlier. I hold my breath, afraid to make a noise, but then Nash turns on the light and I see a tiny smile on his face.

“You’re going to be okay. It’s just going to take a little while for the drugs to wear off. They must have given you guys enough to handle an elephant.”

I can’t respond, but I want to scream that he shouldn’t be so goddamned blasé about women being drugged. Then again, I get the feeling this happens a lot around this place.

Fucking crazy people!

Nash sits down in a chair next to the bed as I wish I could speak. Then again, with how my mind’s racing at the moment, I might try to say something and all that would come out is gibberish.

What the hell did they give me?

I stare up into his eyes and silently plead for him to speak to me. He winces, like he dreads giving me what I want, but finally he sighs heavily and starts to talk again.

“Don’t ask me to do more than what I’ve done so far. I shouldn’t even have done this, but I’m not okay with what’s going on.”

I continue to look up at him, confused about what he’s saying. Does he mean he doesn’t approve of them drugging us tonight or specifically something that’s being done to me? Am I in more danger than I realize?

Opening my mouth, I try to form the words to ask him, but nothing comes out. Nash simply shakes his head.

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