Silo

Chapter 23

I'd checked the sled, repacked my gear in the supply room, and was just waiting for Keith and Evan to solidify our plan. When I left them, Evan had his map spread out across Keith's bed, debating what the best route to take was. At that point, I didn't care. I was more than happy to walk straight up to those bastards and deliver the first blow.  

We had a few hours to kill. Evan had convinced Keith to get a few hours of sleep before we headed out, something about exhaustion clouding his ability to think clearly...or rather aim straight. I'd done the same with Meredith-told her to get some rest and that I'd come wake her when we were ready to leave. I knew she appreciated it, figured that she hadn't seen much privacy in a long time and what little she'd had was always tinged with fear.  

The distinct shuffling of clothes and the scraping of cans across the floor caught my attention as I approached my room. The door was open a crack, enough for me to get a clear view of her rifling through my stuff.  

She searched each pocket of my pants looking for God's knows what. Finding nothing, she moved onto my pack, sifting through the first aid kid I'd tucked inside. I laughed to myself, knowing for a fact she wasn't going to find anything more than a roll of gauze and a few dried up alcohol swabs.  

Her eyes darted toward the door, and I inched back into the hall out of her view. She mumbled something I couldn't quite make out, but I didn't need actual words to hear the fear in her voice.  

I waited a second then carefully eased my way back toward the door. She had my baseball hat in her hands, one of the few personal items I'd managed to escape with that day. Standing there, peering through a slit no wider than my thumb, I watched her turn the hat over, silently mouthing the names of each player I'd scribbled on the inside. I could make out every syllable she whispered, knew exactly which teammate her fingers were running across. 

Their faces all slammed into my mind. Their smiles, the stupid jokes they told on the bus...and Tyler's final plea for help all had me doubling over, heaving up nothing but dry guilt. I spent days...months trying to wipe their images from my mind all while promising myself I'd never forget. 

Lost in the grip of my own memories, I hadn't seen her pack everything up and sink back into her usual spot in the corner. Not a single thing was out of place. Even the cans were aligned exactly as they were before-two on their sides, one standing in front, and peeling labels facing outward. The zipper on my pack was left a half-inch open, my clothes carefully arranged in the haphazard pile she'd found them in.  

The only thing she'd left out was my hat. 

I cursed under my breath. There was no way I was going to let my mind travel this road. There was no conceivable way that Meredith could be responsible for any of this. But the facts, the only real and indisputable facts, were overwhelming. Evan's stats were missing. Keith's bow had disappeared into thin air. The group of kids I'd taken her from had been rummaging around our silo, and now she was digging through my stuff, tucking my baseball hat underneath her quilt in the corner.  

"Not possible," I mumbled as I pushed the sinister thoughts to the back of my mind. Meredith wasn't a problem; I could handle her. It was the redneck assholes from the other silo that were my primary concern. I didn't care if she felt the need to go through all my stuff. I didn't care what she was hiding. And I didn't care if they had scared her into cooperating. Somehow . . . eventually it would all work out. It had to. 

I stepped up my door, purposefully making more noise than necessary. "You ready?" I asked. 

"It's a stupid idea, you know," she said as she grabbed an extra sweatshirt from the floor. "Once he sees you, he'll kill you." 

Not if I get a chance first, I thought to myself. Whoever he was deserved to die for what he'd done to Meredith. He could keep Evan's stat book and Keith's crossbow. Shit, I could probably even forgive his midnight visits to my silo. But for what he'd done to Meredith...yeah, well for that alone I'd gladly kill him myself.  

I reached out to run my fingers across her cheek. "Please talk to me," I said. "I promise I won't let them hurt you. None of us will, but I need to know what happened down there...who they are and what I'm dragging you back into."  

I needed her to open up, to let me past these barriers she'd built around herself to dull the pain. I needed to know why she took my hat, what happened to her in the other silo, and what I could do to make her life better. Easier. I needed her to trust me completely, but that still felt so far away.  

"I'll walk with you," she whispered out. "But I'm not going in. I'd rather die, than go back down there." 

I shook my head, not even bothering to argue. She was coming along, trekking back through the woods to the place she feared the most. If she wanted to wait in the woods, huddled into a tree out of view, then so be it.