In The End Box Set | Books 1-3 Stevens, GJ (story books to read TXT) 📖

the end of our serene weeks together came, at least partly, because I am my own person. Toni could never call me hers. I would never submit myself to another. I would never stop being me until my heart ceased beating in my chest.

At least that phrase still had meaning. Although the dead rose, they weren’t the people they were when they’d lived.

Standing, I traced out a semi-circular path the extended chain would allow. I swallowed down the rising bile and tried to reach out for the shelves as the chain links scratched against the pipe jutting to the wall, the metal like an amplifier. Still, I couldn’t reach any of the potential tools my imagination hoped could help free my bounds.

My gaze fell on one of the rugged plastic boxes Alex had opened by her bed and the smallest of the cameras set up on a tripod, the lens pointing down the aisle.

I held my gaze, stopping my survey and taking a deep breath when I saw the manual open on Alex’s makeshift pillow.

Why had she bothered to try and figure out the camera when she was planning to run in the morning?

The thoughts fell as I heard a gunshot outside. A second came soon after with the crunch of gears in the distance. A third followed, with barely a space as another shook the air, turning me to the windows blocked by the shutters.

I pulled hard on the chain, yanking till the tension was too much for my wrist when it hadn’t come loose, hadn’t released its grip.

I drew a deep breath and held still to welcome the silence, suddenly aware of my noise inviting unwelcome guests.

I listened for more gunfire, for engine sounds and I tried to keep still while searching around.

My gaze fell on anything heavy. Water bottles. A can of beans still sealed. Anything I could wield one-handed.

I continued to search for what would give me the best defence against whatever made the slow footsteps coming from the corridor.

91

The tin of beans weighed heavy in my hand, adding to the downward pull of the chain clinging at my wrist. With the footsteps getting near, I daren’t raise the tin high, too afraid the rattle of the metal links would further advertise my presence.

Breath caught as I heard another sound, the drag of something bulky along the floor behind each echoing step. I tried to ignore the worst pictures forming inside my head with each passing moment.

Searching left and right, I was desperate to find a space to hide; to find somewhere to give cover, somewhere I’d overlooked all this time. No matter how much I checked, my gaze flitting around the clearing, no miraculous safe room appeared.

Movement flashed into view through the doorway and I raised the can, the chains coming alive with song as I propelled the tin as best I could towards the figure until the cuffs snapped back at the full extent of my reach. The can bounced off the torso, splitting against the tiles and sending tomato sauce flooding the floor as it skidded to a stop.

I stood open-mouthed, Alex lifting her head as if struggling to raise it. The first stage of a bruise reddened her cheek.

My gaze followed down her arms, skipping from the gun in her right to the bundle of heavy clothes held in her left. A mop of mousey brown hair fell around her hand as she held the bundle by the scruff of a jacket, a trail of blood left in their wake.

I backed away until the chain would let me go no further. Fear raged through my chest until her gaze found mine across the room. Her eyes wide and seeking my attention.

Alex threw the gun to my bed and bent down, turning the sack over and sweeping the hair to reveal a young woman’s dirty face.

Watching on as Alex bent over and slid up the blood-soaked left leg of her own jeans, she looked up as I peered at the black shard of metal stuck in the side of Alex’s ankle below the stark black of a tattoo, whose shape I couldn’t quite make out.

Alex's hand reached out for the first aid kit beside my bed. I rushed over, the chain rattling in my wake.

She shook her head, the pain obvious as she pushed her hand to her pocket and pulled out the handcuff key to swap it for the open green box.

“What happened?” I said, with the key, sticky with her blood, held in my good hand whilst looking at how I was going to get the lock open with the swollen fingers on my left. “I woke and you'd gone. I thought…”

She didn’t reply. Instead, shook her head as she rifled through the contents of the small kit, letting the packages spill to the floor.

As she pulled apart the foil of an antiseptic wipe, she nodded over to the girl who still hadn’t moved.

“Is she okay?” I said, peering over.

“Is she okay?” Alex replied, the words darting from her mouth.

I looked back at her leg. “You’re fine. Looks like a scratch,” I shot back.

She raised her eyebrows and I raised mine back, mimicking her expression until her face melted to a thin smile.

“You were tossing and turning. That bloody chain kept me awake all night. I ended up spending most of it getting the camera to work.”

My eyes widened, head rising and she nodded in reply.

“When I finally got to sleep, I woke to the sound of the van’s engine. I darted out of bed and there was this little shit driving off in it.”

“You ran after her?” I said, a smile rising.

Alex nodded, turning down to the wound, clenching her teeth as she pulled the jagged triangle of metal and dropped it to the tile