And if I’m lucky… Alyssa and Polly are still breathing, too.
3
ALYSSA
The days have started blending together. I thought the darkness was bad, but the constant semi-light might be worse. The buzzing of fluorescents has taken up permanent residence inside my skull.
When I do sleep, I wake up suddenly in cold sweats. Sometimes with nightmares that feel like they’re bleeding into real life. Sometimes with thoughts that feel like nightmares.
I try not to show Polly my panic. I’m not sure she’d notice even if I did, because she withdraws into herself more and more with each passing hour. The more silent she becomes, the more I worry.
She hasn’t said anything in a long time now. Her eyes mostly stay closed but they flutter open every now and again. I wish I could say something, but it’s as hard to speak as it is to do anything else. I’m so dehydrated that I want to swallow my own tongue at this point.
The worst part has been watching the rats come out of the woodwork. Polly and I were forced to watch as they ate through the thin cellophane wrappings of our sandwiches first before devouring the sandwiches themselves. The only thing they left were the two bottles of water lying on the floor.
The two Russians haven’t come back. If it weren’t for the tiny cameras I’d spotted in the far corner of the room, I’d say we were completely forgotten.
“Polly?”
The rasp of my own voice hurts, but when Polly twitches and cringes at the sound of it, I realize I should’ve spoken up sooner. How can I expect a fourteen-year-old to withstand this kind of trauma if I can’t?
Be strong, Alyssa. Be strong for Polly and your baby.
“Polly,” I try again when she doesn’t respond.
Her head lolls to the side and she peels her eyelids open like it hurts her to make the effort. I take one look at those big hazel eyes and offer her a half-smile. “I know this might seem like a stupid question but… how are you?”
Polly gives me an incremental shrug. “I don’t know anymore. You?”
My head is pounding but I speak through the ache. I wish they’d just turn off the fucking lights. “I’m fine. It’s not like I haven’t been locked in a basement against my will before.”
That actually earns me a smile. “True. This is nothing for you.” But as quick as it came, the little sliver of brightness in Polly’s eyes vanishes. “I’m sorry, by the way.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“For everything you’ve been through because of my family. None of this would have happened if Uri hadn’t locked you down there.”
A tear slips down her cheek, not that we can afford to waste the hydration. “Polly, listen to me: the only ones to blame are the motherfuckers who put us down here. But trust me, we’re gonna get out.”
“How can you know that?”
“Because I know your brother. Have you ever known him to give up? Especially when it comes to you and Lev?”
Polly looks too tired to sum up the slightest bit of positivity. Her eyes are blank and dead. I can’t let her sink any lower or I might lose her completely.
“I need you to stay positive. I know it’s hard while we’re trapped down here, chained to these beds with no food and water. But I need you to try anyway.”
“I don’t think I can.”
There’s a whimper in her voice and I’m reminded again that she’s only fourteen years old. All I want to do is draw her into my arms and hold her until she starts feeling better. But since I can’t comfort her the way I want to, I decide to give her the one thing in my possession that I think might make a difference.
“You have to. You have to believe we can survive this. You have to believe we’re going to be okay. My baby’s going to need their cool aunt around, after all.”
Her eyes snap to mine. “W-what did you say?”
I give her a small smile. “You’re the first person I’ve told.”
“You’re pregnant,” she whispers. She glances at my belly. “You’re pregnant.”
I glance at the cameras, mostly to remind her to be quiet. “Yes, I am,” I whisper back. “I have been for a while now.”
“How long is a while?”
“Ten weeks, give or take.”
There it is—the little flicker of life I was hoping for. The brightness comes back, the dullness recedes, and Polly straightens just a little bit taller. “I… I can’t believe it.”
“Trust me—I couldn’t either at first.”