Chapter 50 Water

Chapter 50 Water
Chelsea

✦

The light coming through the small basement window has changed.

It was bright before.

Harsh.

Now it's gold and heavy, slanting across the dirty floor at an angle that means late afternoon.

My stomach growls.

Loud.

We haven't eaten since yesterday.

Before Rave.

Before any of this.

My throat is dry.

Scratchy.

Painful.

Livia shifts beside me, her shoulder still pressed against mine.

Her breathing has changed too.

Shallow.

Like she's trying to conserve energy.

Or maybe she's just as thirsty as I am.

Voices drift from the other room.

The two men.

One of them is on the phone, speaking in a language I don't recognize.

Not Spanish.

Not French.

Something else.

Harsh sounds.

Rapid.

It doesn't matter what they're saying.

It matters that they're distracted.

"Hey," I call out.

My voice cracks.

I clear my throat and try again.

"Hey!"

Livia stiffens.

"Don't," she whispers.

"Please."

But I keep going.

"Please. We need help."

The talking stops.

Footsteps.

Heavy.

The door opens and the shorter one steps through.

He looks annoyed.

"What do you want, bitch?"

The word hits like a slap.

But I swallow it down.

"We're hungry," I say.

My voice sounds pathetic.

Weak.

"And thirsty. Please. Can we have anything?"

He stares at me.

Then he laughs.

Not a friendly laugh.

A mean one.

Like I told a joke.

He shakes his head and turns back toward the door.

"Wait," I say.

But he keeps walking.

The door closes.

Livia exhales.

"Chelsea, don't provoke them."

"We need water," I say.

"We need food."

"They're not going to—"

The door opens again.

He's back.

In his hand, a plastic cup.

Clear.

Half full of water.

My mouth floods with anticipation.

Painful.

He crosses the room and sets the cup on the floor in front of us.

Just out of reach.

"One cup," he says.

He steps back.

Crosses his arms.

Smiles.

"One cup for both of you."

Livia and I look at each other.

Then at the water.

Then back at him.

"I want to see you fight for it," he says.

His eyes are bright.

Enjoying this.

"Go on. Fight."

I look at Livia.

Shake my head slightly.

That's not happening.

We're not animals.

We're not entertainment.

He sees my expression and his smile widens.

"Or," he says, drawing out the word, "one of you drinks it all. The whole thing. Or neither of you gets anything."

He looks at me.

"Your choice, pathetic."

I look at Livia.

"Liv," I say.

"Drink it."

"Chelsea, no—"

"Drink it."

She's shaking her head.

"No, wait—"

"Drink the fucking water, Livia."

I cut her off.

My voice harder than I mean it to be.

"I'm okay. I'm not that thirsty. Take it."

The man looks between us.

Laughs again.

"Pathetic," he repeats.

Then he turns to Livia.

"Go ahead. Drink it all. The whole thing. Or neither of you gets water."

Livia stares at the cup.

Her throat moves.

She's so thirsty.

I can see it.

Feel it.

"Drink it," I whisper.

She looks at me.

Tears in her eyes.

Then she looks back at the man.

"I don't want it," she says.

Her voice trembles.

"Not like this."

He raises an eyebrow.

"You sure?"

Livia nods.

"It's not fair," she says.

"I can't."

He shrugs.

"Suit yourself."

He bends down.

Picks up the cup.

And walks out of the room.

The door closes.

The lock clicks.

I stare at her.

"Are you stupid?"

The words explode out of me.

Livia flinches.

"You should've drunk the fucking water, Livia."

"Chelsea—"

"No." I'm shaking.

Angry.

So angry.

"Do you understand what you just did? We don't know when they'll give us anything else. We don't know if they'll give us anything else."

"I couldn't," she says.

Her voice breaks.

"Don't you get that? I couldn't drink it. Knowing you didn't have any. Knowing you were sitting right there."

"That was water," I say.

"That was survival."

"It's not fair," she whispers.

The tears are back.

Spilling down her cheeks.

"It wasn't fair."

I want to keep yelling.

I want to scream.

But I see her face.

The guilt.

The desperation.

She's not stupid.

She's just not built like that.

She can't take something at someone else's expense.

Even if that someone is telling her to.

Even if that someone is dying of thirst.

I drop my head back against the wall.

Close my eyes.

The anger drains out of me.

Leaving nothing but exhaustion.

"I know," I say quietly.

"I know it wasn't fair."

The silence stretches.

My throat burns.

My stomach twists.

And somewhere in the house, I hear the man laughing with his friend.

Probably telling them about the stupid women in the basement.

How we wouldn't even drink water.

How pathetic we are.

I open my eyes.

Stare at the ceiling.

"Next time," I say.

"Next time, we take what they give us. Okay? No matter what. No matter how unfair."

Livia nods against my shoulder.

"Okay."

But we both know.

There might not be a next time.

The cup was half full.

Now it's gone.

And the afternoon is turning to evening.

And we're still here.

Still tied up.

Still helpless.

Still waiting.

I think about Alex again.

About him searching.

About him worrying.

Please be looking, I think.

Please be looking.

Because if he's not...

I don't let myself finish the thought.

I can't.

Not if I want to keep hoping.

✦

Time has stopped meaning anything.

The window is dark now.

Night.

The golden afternoon is gone, and with it, any sense of time passing normally.

My wrists are numb.

My shoulders ache from the position.

My throat is so dry it feels like sandpaper.

Livia's head keeps drooping, then snapping back up.

She's falling asleep.

Or maybe passing out.

I can't tell.

The door opens.

Not the shorter one.

The other one.

Tall.

Broad shoulders.

The one who hasn't spoken much.

He steps into the room and looks down at us.

Smiles.

It's worse than the other man's.

"We're getting really lucky," he says.

His voice is deep.

Smooth.

Terrifying.

"Lots of buyers. Lots of rich, filthy men who want both of you."

My stomach drops.

Livia makes a sound.

Small.

Helpless.

He steps closer.

"You're hot commodities."

He crouches down in front of me.

Reaches out.

I flinch.

But he just touches my hair.

A strand of it.

Dark blue.

He runs it through his fingers.

"Especially you," he says.

His eyes meet mine.

Dark.

Hungry.

"High price. Very high. I'm gonna make sure I get a damn good buck out of you."

He keeps playing with my hair.

I want to scream.

I want to bite his hand off.

But I'm frozen.

"It's a shame," he says softly.

Almost gently.

"I can't keep you for myself. I'd have my way with you. Day and night."

He drops the strand.

Stands up.

My whole body is shaking.

I can't stop.

Can't control it.

He walks over to Livia.

Drops down in front of her.

She squeezes her eyes shut.

Her whole body trembling.

He looks at her chest.

Then grabs her breasts.

Both hands.

Squeezes.

Livia whimpers.

Tears leak from her closed eyes.

"You're worth a lot too," he says.

His face inches from hers.

"Almost just as much as your friend here."

He lets go.

Stands.

Laughs.

"Gonna bring you something," he says.

"Be right back."

He leaves.

The door closes.

Livia is crying.

Silent.

Shoulders shaking.

I'm crying too.

But I'm also angry.

So angry I can't see straight.

The door opens again.

He's back.

In each hand, a cup of water.

Full.

He sets them down in front of us.

Within reach.

"I'm not too happy," he says.

His voice casual.

Like he's talking about the weather.

"My friend denied you water earlier. Stupid fucking friend."

He looks at us.

Meets my eyes.

"You need to be in good condition. For the buyers."

He drops the cups.

Water sloshes but doesn't spill.

"Can't have you dehydrated. Or broken. Yet."

He turns.

Walks out.

Locks the door.

Livia and I stare at the cups.

Then at each other.

"Go," I say.

We scoot forward.

Press our faces to the floor.

It's awkward.

Humiliating.

But we manage.

I get my lips around the rim.

Tilt.

Drink.

The water is warm.

Stagnant.

Probably tap water.

It's the best thing I've ever tasted.

I drink the whole thing.

Greedily.

Spilling some down my chin.

Doesn't matter.

I finish it.

Livia does the same.

Gulping.

Choking.

Drinking.

We sit back against the wall.

Breathing hard.

The water hits my stomach.

Sloshes.

I feel nauseous and relieved at the same time.

Livia wipes her mouth on her shoulder.

"Did he say..." she starts.

Her voice hoarse.

"Buyers."

I nod.

I heard it.

Hot commodities.

Rich men.

Buyers.

"We're being sold," I whisper.

The words taste worse than the water tasted good.

Livia makes a sound.

Half sob.

Half scream held back.

I lean my head back.

Close my eyes.

His voice echoes.

Day and night.

Damn good buck.
Especially you.

I want to throw up the water.

Want to cry it all out.

But I keep it down.

Because he's right.

We need to be in good condition.

Not for the buyers.

For ourselves.

For whatever comes next.

I open my eyes.

Look at Livia.

"We need to pay attention," I say.

My voice steadier than I feel.

"Everything. Every word. Every door sound. Every footstep."

She nods.

Sniffles.

"Okay."

"We need to be ready."

"For what?"

I don't know.

I don't have an answer.

But I say it anyway.

"For anything."

The house is quiet now.

The men have stopped talking on the phone.

Maybe they're sleeping.

Maybe they're arranging things.

Preparing.

I look at the empty cup beside me.

Then at the dark window.

Day and night.

I shove the thought away.

Focus on the water in my stomach.

The strength it gives me.

However small.

However temporary.

I have to stay sharp.

Have to stay alive.

For Alex.

For Livia.

For myself.

The tall man wants a damn good buck.

Fine.

Let him try.

But I'm not going to make it easy.

Not for him.

Not for anyone.