The Prey

He hauled her to the door of the hut, which was secured with a large padlock. He took a key ring from his pocket and used one of the keys on the lock. Leaving the padlock ajar on the hasp, he pulled open the door and shoved her through. The room was dim, lit only by the sunlight shining through the open door. The air was hot and stank of stale urine, sweat and vomit. The wooden floor was rough beneath her bare feet, the ceiling low.

Alex shook his head slowly, an expression of real regret moving over his features. “I really thought you were doing well, Mara. Adapting. Adjusting. Fitting in.” He reached toward her. She flinched, expecting a slap, but instead he closed his hand around the ruby at her throat. With a sudden yank, he pulled the chain loose. “You’re not worthy of this ruby. You’re nothing now. Less than nothing. You start from zero.”

“Please, Alex, please, sir,” Mara begged. “I didn’t—”

“No!” Alex shouted, the first time she’d ever heard him raise his voice. He reached again for her, this time his hand closing hard around her throat. “Don’t make excuses or tell lies. It will only go worse for you.” He squeezed hard, blocking her ability to breathe or even cough. “You betrayed me. You broke the rules. Lucky for you Gordon Smith is too stupid, or maybe too smart, to believe you.”

His voice softened, though he kept the iron grip on her throat. “When I told him, Wallace wanted to sell you outright. I convinced him to give you another chance.” Finally he let her go.

Mara stumbled back, gasping for breath. “Please,” she tried again, “I’m sorry. I—“

Again he cut her off. “Not as sorry as you’re going to be.” He pointed to the ceiling. Following his finger, Mara saw a large eyebolt embedded there, a rope slung from it with a single large nylon cuff attached. “Raise your arms over your head as high as you can.”

Mara stared at the rope and cuff. She did not want to be bound in this hot, cramped hut, this prison. Suddenly she knew where she was.

The box.

She took a step back. Alex moved menacingly toward her. “Do it. Now.”

Mara lifted trembling arms over her head. Alex grabbed her wrists with one hand. Using the other, he tugged the rope until the cuff was the correct height and then closed it snugly around both wrists. He pulled at the rope until she was forced nearly on tiptoe. Without speaking, he turned on his heel and walked out the door.

“No! Wait!” Mara shouted, not wanting to be left alone in this place, even though Alex was the last person in the world she wanted to be with her.

To her relief, he returned a moment later. He held out a bottle of water and all at once Mara realized she was parched with thirst. She licked her lips, watching as he unscrewed the cap. He held the bottle to her lips.

“Drink,” he ordered, tipping it.

Mara drank, gulping as much of the sweet, cold water as she could, though some of it splashed down her chin onto her chest and breasts as he poured.

When it was empty, he stepped back. “I’m going to leave you now to contemplate what you’ve done.”

Mara began to cry. “Please, please, don’t leave me here, sir. Please.”

Alex regarded her with his hard, cold stare. “Have you forgotten what I told you when you first arrived? Good girls get rewarded.” He held up the ruby necklace and then slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans with a sharp shake of his head. “Bad girls get punished. You, Mara, have been very, very bad.” With that, he turned toward the door and walked out, this time pulling it closed behind him.

The room was plunged into darkness and Mara could hear the sound of the padlock being clicked into place. Then all was silence, except her own snuffling.

After a minute or so, her eyes adjusted. The room wasn’t actually dark, but only dim. Shafts of sun penetrated gaps in the tin roof, leaving stripes of light along the floor. There were also spaces between the floorboards from which faint light glowed. She saw there was a bucket in the corner of the hut, a piece of newspaper spread beneath it.

The hut was hot, even hotter now that the door was closed, and sweat trickled down Mara’s sides and beaded on her forehead and upper lip. She continued to cry softly for a while, until the tears finally stopped. Using her shoulder, she tried to wipe her face as best she could.

For a long while she stared at nothing, leaning heavily against the nylon cuff that held her arms in place. How long could he leave her like this? How long could a person be safely suspended in this manner before real damage occurred?