Fated Lies (Lies 3)

I stare up at the dark wall, finding the window high up. I don’t see anyone, but I know he’s been taken.

I slip the jacket on and zip it up before I start shouting, like that is somehow going to help.

“Langston! Don’t you dare hurt him!”

I pound my fists into the wall. “Take me instead!”

There is no answer.

I look around the room for a door, or any other option to escape that may have appeared in the last five seconds. But of course, there isn’t another means of escaping.

My options are to break through a wall, dig out underneath the wall, or climb out.

I’m not strong enough to break or dig out. My only option to try and reach Langston is to climb out.

I grip my side. It was hard enough when Langston gave me a boost, I was uninjured, and Langston was below to catch me. This is going to be impossible.

I stare up at the wall, more determined than ever.

I don’t know what Langston is going through—torture, agony, rape. Is he hanging onto the edge of death? Or is he spilling secrets to stay alive and return home to his kids?

I have to get to Langston. I have to find a way to rescue him.

I grab onto the wall without another thought and begin to climb. I don’t think about failing. I don’t think about waiting until the light shines and makes it easier; there isn’t a moment to wait. I don’t think about falling and hurting myself. I just climb.

I’m completely focused on my task of inching myself higher and higher. My side aches and burns with each movement, but I don’t care. Langston won’t die, not this way. I can’t let him.

So I keep climbing.

I’ve made it two-thirds of the way up the wall when I hear the window open. I try to look up, but it’s hard to look without loosening my grip on the wall.

I consider speaking, but it’s still dark, and I’m not sure whoever is at the window can see me climbing the wall. So I freeze.

I watch as a blob is lowered down next to me—Langston.

I stop breathing as I watch his lifeless body lower. The rope holding him breaks halfway down, and he drops to the floor.

I shriek.

I look up, but whoever is at the window is gone. Now’s my chance to climb up and escape, but then I look back down at Langston.

There is no way I can leave him.

I start to climb back down quickly until I’m about four feet from the floor, then I drop.

“Langston!” I run to him.

He doesn’t move or make a sound as I approach.

“Langston!” I shout again as I try to look him over for any injuries. I find none on a quick inspection, which gives me enough courage to flip him over onto his back without worrying too much about injuring his head.

I hear his barely audible breaths and sigh in relief.

“Langston, wake up.”

He moans as I tap his cheek, but I know he won’t awaken until whatever drugs are in his system have worn off.

I look him over carefully, but I find no bruises, no blood, no new injuries. He even has a new T-shirt on, and his pants are intact.