Chapter 3 Into the wolf's den

I heard a sniffle from the wall opposite me. "Lily, you okay?" I whispered. The oppressive darkness demanded quiet voices. "I. . .I want to go home," she whimpered. I pushed off the wall and fell forward onto my knees. I couldn't see where I was going, but Lily's sniffles meant I didn't have to. My knees warned me of splinters and loose nails, but I ignored its complaints and shuffled across the planks and over to Lily. I leaned my head gently against hers. "They didn't hurt you, did they?" I asked her. I felt her shake her head. "N-no." "So what do we do now?" Karissa spoke up. There was silence among our small, shivering group. "Amelia?" I leaned away from Lily and frowned. "What?" "What do we do?" "How should I know?" "Because you've got more spunk than the rest of us. Our only plan's been for just sitting here and waiting to see what's going to happen," Karissa pointed out. I pursed my lips together and shrugged. "Yeah, well, much good it did us," I quipped. "We're not there yet," she countered. "You guys are idiots," Riley spoke up. "Thinking of something is better than trying nothing," Karissa shot back. "Did you even take a look at those guys? They're huge, and they're not going to just let us stroll off this boat and back home," she argued. A heavy foot rapped the ceiling overhead. "Shut up in there!" came the voice of our lead captor. Riley resumed her argument but in a quieter voice. "See? They're even listening now. We don't have a chance against them, so the best thing to do is shut up and take it." I sighed. "She's right." "Come on, don't give up on me now," Karissa pleaded. "We're on a boat, and our hands and feet are tied. That means we can't swim, and we can't beat those guys with just our teeth," I pointed out. I heard Karissa growl. "So we just wait here and see what happens?" Lily whimpered beside me. "And we stick together," I added. "Good luck with that. . ." Riley mumbled. The mood of our little group was gloomy. The only interruption to our silence was a stifled sniffle or two from our fellow captives. I sat in the middle of the floor and felt the waves of the lake rock beneath our boat. Above us tramped the heavy boots of our captors like jailers marching in step to an oppressive beat. All I could think about was the burly man's cold eyes and the strange, dark island in the distance. I never doubted that was our destination. What better place to take a group of kidnapped women than a deserted island? Perhaps they would sell us to slave traders, or have their way with us and toss our lifeless bodies beyond the rocks and into the deep depths of the lake. I shuddered. Best not to think about that. After a long time, maybe a half hour, maybe two hours, the speed of the boat slowed. The footsteps moved to the side of the boat and I heard shouts. My fellow captives coiled into themselves. The herd mentality overtook me and I, too, cringed. My one anchor of courage was Lily. She leaned against me and shivered. I couldn't show my fear. Not when I had to give courage to this scared young girl. "We'll stick together no matter what," I promised her. Her reply was a slight slackening of her quivering. The voices above us grew louder and the boat knocked into something firm. The boots clamored down their plank, and in a moment our door swung open. The burly man from before stepped inside and his men followed him. "Take them single-file to the holding cells," he ordered them. The holding cells. Such a name didn't dampen the terror that quaked in our hearts. The other women screamed and pleaded as they were taken one at a time through the tall hatch. "Please let me go!" "I won't tell anybody!" Their pleas fell on deaf ears. I was tossed over the shoulder of one of these foul-smelling men and carried outside and up a plank. The boat was parked on a new pier. This one was in better condition with new, freshly sealed boards. There was another boat at the dock. That one was smaller than the cargo one and was painted completely black with fresh paint. It had two large motors on the back and its pointed bow spoke of speed. The men carried us down the pier to the shore. I twisted and glanced over my shoulder. The tall cliffs of the dark island loomed above us. I could see specks of light on the far right side of the island, but the rising sun blotted out most of them. Ahead of us at the end of the dock was a dirt path that wound its way up the rocky front of the island. Squat pine trees crowded the trail, and on either side of the path were small, round holders in which burned candles. The top of the path was hidden from my view by a ledge. At the end of the trail, we women were dropped onto our feet and forced to march up the hill. Without our hands for balance, we stumbled and fell. The men pulled us up by our collars and pushed us along. I could see Karissa and Lily ahead of me. Lily stumbled more than the others and she shrank whenever her man grabbed her and pulled her to her feet. We reached the top of the hill fifteen minutes later. The path flattened for ten yards before it ended at a stone building set into the rocky mountain. The thick steel door was opened and revealed a long, wide hallway that had been carved into the hill. The rough walls were a mixture of primitive concrete and stone, and the floors were uneven. Torches hung from the right-hand wall and lit the way, and between the lights were smaller doors. There were tiny openings in the upper half of the doors that were covered with sliding slats of wood. Metal bars lay over the center and acted as primitive locks.