Dinner

There was only one rule: don’t open the door.

But that was our only escape.

Day after day, we received meager rations of stale bread and dirty water through the Chihuahua-sized slot cut into the door. Our only human interaction was among the five of us, but we did not speak beyond dividing up the food and water. We had no idea what they wanted with us, and we did not want to even contemplate the possibilities. Our only focus was on survival.

Then the burly man came and took Tom away.

We waited for endless rounds of rations, but Tom never returned. Sarah mourned bitterly for him. The rest of us feared for ourselves.

Dirk was the next to go. He did not return, either.

Bertram put up a fight when his turn came. The burly man knocked him out in an instant and slug him over his shoulder. He glared at Sarah and me, daring us to try something, before he left with the final man we had to protect us.

I knew that we could not let the burly man take us. I had a plan—a desperate plan, but it was all that we had.

Twenty rations after Bertram was taken, the burly man returned. His face emotionless, he reached for my arm and pulled me roughly to my feet. As I rose, I swiftly kneed him in the groin.

“Sarah, now!” I yelled.

As the burly man doubled over, we ran for the forbidden door and out into the light.

Immediately, a calloused pair of hands grabbed me by the arm and throat, pulling me into a large man’s chest. Close by, I saw another man had caught Sarah.

“Look here, boys,” my captor said, “dinner’s come delivery tonight.”