Page 33 of All The Way Under
Collin puts his hands up, making goal posts with his arms.
“We didn’t know. Please, we didn’t know. Don’t dart me,” he pleads. “I’ll carry him back. Don’t hurt him more.”
His words shake because his body is trembling so hard. They have broken them down.
Nery prepares another dart.
Even if I shouldn’t care, I step in.
“I called the brother to talk to me,” I say in their language. “I overheard them speaking about the stairs here. He has woodworking skills and can help us with our project tomorrow,” I explain, saying tomorrow, even though they haven’t said when to put a time frame on the order. “He will be helpful to us.”
Saylor grabs my wrist, gaze wide and pleading. She stays silent, willing me to read her face.
“Both of these brothers are useful. He gardens,” I say, nodding at the shivering shit kneeling on the ground. Him gardening sounds like a lie they’d believe. “He said he noticed a blight on the arabica beans. He wanted to know if we saw it.”
The lies keep coming because Saylor is looking at me like I’m a superhero who can solve the world’s problems. Why does letting her down feel like a mortal sin?
“Yes,” Collin says, barely believable.
Great, they both suck at lying. Good in most cases, bad when it comes to saving their own life.
“Yes. That is correct.”
I close my eyes because I’m getting secondhand embarrassment from this show.
Nery orders Collin to carry his brother back, and I make eye contact with the younger brother. He nods at me. This is the charade he needs to play.
Saylor stands from the table, shaking herself, planting one hand on the bamboo surface to steady herself.
“They are unpredictable,” she says, hushed, as Ravelo walks us out of the room.
Collin is struggling with Turner over his shoulder, but I don’t dare help. I need to protect Saylor. She needs to be the focus.
“They weren’t supposed to hurt us.”
They won’t hurt her. She’s worth too much, but a dose of fear is good to keep her in line. She looks up at me, and tears pool in her big blue eyes.
“Thank you for standing up for them. You didn’t have to because I know you don’t care.”
I care. I do. In my own fucked-up way.
“We can use them as tools,” I say instead.
She huffs, standing closer to me now than she ever has as we walk toward our cage.
“Can I use the bathroom over there before we go in?” Saylor’s question is laced sweetly as she points to the shack we can see from our cage.
Ravelo seems to think about it for a moment or two and agrees. Since we’re over here anyway, he allows me to go as well. From this new angle, I can see where the other hostages are being held. From the second floor of this stilted structure, they have a bird’s-eye view of both our cage and theirs. They can also communicate with anyone in the other stilted structure we eat at. The lineup of their buildings is tactical in nature.
He locks the door behind us when we’re back in our cage, and Saylor throws herself onto the floor.
“Could this really go on for months?”
“It’s how they drive a higher ransom,” I explain, then realize this is information a car mechanic probably wouldn’t have.
I’m being too honest with her, and I’m slipping up.
“That’s what I read before my sail, anyway.”
