Somewhere in the Trees

fourteen

Gloria is the main chef in the kitchen.

When Alice and I first were led into the tiny kitchen and shown our work station (by the sink with dishes and utensils piled in it), Gloria walked up to us. She has short black hair, small eyes and a round face with cherry red cheeks.

"Gloria, this is Alice and Louisa," Scott introduced us as other women pushed past us, hustling back and forth at their stations. "They'll start as dishwashers."

Gloria looked us up and down. Then, she said, "Don't either of you touch my food. Don't even think about it. Is that understood?"

Her voice is deep and the way she holds herself, the lack of emotion in her eyes, and the slight curl of her lips showing distaste at the sight of Alice and I, intimidates me.

I nodded, as did Alice.

"We won't," Alice assured her.

Now, Alice and I have been standing at this sink for God knows how long. There's no way to tell time here, only by where the sun is, which is currently shining confidently through the singular window behind us and the slim under section of the back door to the right of us. It's locked, I already tried.

Alice has been scrubbing and rinsing the dishes while I've been drying them. Just when we think we're done, Gloria or another woman plops another dozen dirty dishes and utensils down on the counter beside the sink.

It's infuriating to me how these people think they can just steal other people from their lives and stick them in a kitchen to wash dishes.

Well, they'll be in for a surprise when Zoe and I escape and go right to the police about this place that breeds people to add to some sort of sick "family", where killing people is considered a game.

Speaking of Zoe, being without her makes me feel sick with worry. The breakfast we were forced to eat this morning, eggs and toast, keeps threatening to come back up every time I'm reminded of the fact that we're not near each other. I feel like I need her with me at all times or I don't know how I'll survive this until we get out.

A few women chat and laugh in the other section of the kitchen, where they're all preparing the food. They're talking about their kids and silly things they've said, as if this is just another day to them.

I want to know the deal with this place. Has everybody here been kidnapped by that Abe guy? And if so, how have they become so accustomed to this life? I refuse to.

"What'd you think of the game last night?" I hear one woman say. It peaks my interest, and while Alice hands me the scrubbed pan she'd been working on for a few minutes, I try to slyly look over towards the other area.

The women in that part of the kitchen are much older, aside from one girl, who appears to be in her twenties or thirties. Everybody is wearing the same blue linen outfits, though everybody preparing food has to wear a hairnet, clear gloves, and a white apron.

"It was fascinating," another woman responds. "I mean, usually during that game, everyone slits the opponent's throat. He's the first person who's ever been willing to sacrifice himself to the fire to save one of our people. What's his name again?"

"Declan," Gloria says sternly after placing something in the oven. "His name is Declan, and you oughta respect him. Abe has chosen him."

"I know," one of them says. "I'd love to get to know him. You'd think somebody brand new like him would want to kill one of us, but... That's the quality of a strong leader right there. Just like Abe. Hey Fiona," the blonde woman turns to the younger girl, "maybe you could bear his child. You should definitely give it a try. I'm sure he'd love you, you're beautiful."