“Well, I’m not wasting any more time on you tonight. I’m hungry. We’ve got good supplies here, better than most. Going to fetch myself something to drink and some food, then get some sleep. It’s been good talking to you.”

With that he leaves, taking the lamp with him. He pulls the door shut with a loud thud, then locks it. I hear his footsteps walking away, then silence. The quiet is deafening and is interrupted only by the fading sound of a far-off helicopter or plane and the steady drip of the water in the corner.

The room is pitch black, no light at all. The kind of dark your eyes won’t ever get used to.

Who the hell is Joseph Mallon? Is he on his own here? Just a lone crackpot trying to make a stand, or is he part of something bigger?

My gut begins to rumble with hunger again, and the itch by my right knee returns. Wish I could scratch it. That’s all it’d take, just a few seconds scratching, then it would go. Feels like someone’s digging a nail into my flesh.

I HEAR A SCREAM in the darkness, but I can’t tell whether it’s coming from somewhere inside this building or outside. In the smothering darkness everything has lost its form and definition. I have no concept of time or how long I’ve been here. I tried counting the drips, but my tired brain can’t keep track, and now the noise each drip makes is like a hammer blow to the head. I can’t stay still, but I can’t move either. Every time I pull on my chains they seem to tighten even more.

I don’t know how long it’s been since I last drank anything, but my bladder’s been filling steadily. I won’t shout out and put myself at the mercy of Joseph Mallon or any other Unchanged scum here. That’s what he wants. He’s trying to get me to break under pressure by starving me and keeping me chained up and in the dark. I’m better than him. I won’t let him get to me. But at the same time I can’t stop my body from doing what it’s supposed to. I pissed myself a while back. What else could I do? It was either that or shout for Mallon. Now I’m soaked with strong-smelling urine. It was warm, but my bare legs are freezing now, and I stink. That bastard has reduced me to this, but I won’t let him beat me.

My body aches. My legs and arms are numb. Never thought it could hurt so much to stay still for so long. Just wish I could get up and walk around. And God, I’m so fucking hungry. My empty stomach keeps cramping so bad it feels like it’s turning itself inside out. Don’t know what I’m going to do when I need to shit. Not even going to think about it until it happens. Have to try to keep myself distracted, but it’s impossible when I can’t see or hear anything and when I can’t move and when I don’t know where I am or how long I’m going to be here…

Stop.

Focus.

This is what he wants. He’s trying to push me over the edge. It won’t work. I won’t let it work.

Leg’s itching again. Worse than before.

Helicopter. Long way off…

How long before you go crazy in the dark? A kid at school-long, long time ago-said it was just hours if there’s absolutely no light at all. Pointless thinking about time, because I don’t know how long I’ve been lying here. Part of me is starting to wish Joseph Mallon would come back just to break the monotony. Never thought I’d actually look forward to seeing one of the Unchanged, but staring at that evil piece of shit’s face would be better than lying here staring at nothing, just thinking. Don’t like being able to think like this. Makes me question things I’ve known all along are right. Makes me start to doubt myself. Makes me think stupid, crazy thoughts about Ellis-how close I might have got to her and how far I am from her now. I was within a couple of miles of Lizzie’s sister’s house, and now I could be anywhere.

What’s my little girl doing? Is she fighting? Is she already dead? Is she in another room in this building? Is she in the room next door? What if Mallon doesn’t come back? What if I’ve fucked up and blown my chance with him? What if he leaves me here to starve to death, strapped to a piss-soaked bed?

What a fucking failure. All that noise and fighting and bullshit-four months of it-and I’ve let myself get beaten by an unfit, overweight Unchanged who looks like he couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag. He can’t be the only one running this place. There were at least four out on the street when they got me, and none of them were as fat and out of shape as Mallon.

Thinking about the street makes me think about the hospital and how I criticized Paul for running headfirst into a one-sided fight that I thought was a setup. At least he went out fighting. For all I know he might still be out there while I’m stuck here…

I’m starting to get scared.

The dripping noise is getting louder and faster.

Thought I felt something moving on the bed.

Thought I saw a flash of light.

Am I hallucinating now?

Am I going out of my fucking mind? Going crazy in the dark? Need to keep focused, so I try to remember Ellis’s face. But the harder I concentrate, the less I see. I’m scared I’ll forget what she looks like. The face I see now isn’t her, it’s a combination of the faces of the feral kids we found in the school this morning… or yesterday morning… or whenever the hell that was.

Leg hurts.

Just want to scratch that fucking itch.

THE DOOR FLIES OPEN, and Mallon barges into the room. He’s carrying something with both hands and holding the light beneath it. The combination of searing light and dark shadows stops me from seeing anything. He doesn’t look at me, must be focused on whatever it is he’s going to do to me. He turns his back and puts something down on the chair; then he puts the lamp on the floor in the corner of the room.

What’s that smell? Christ, it’s beautiful. Smells like hot food… some kind of soup, I think. But it can’t be, can it? Can you imagine a smell? Is this another trick my tired mind’s playing on me? Mallon turns around and moves closer. He’s left a tray on the chair. There’s a bowl on it with steam snaking up, and next to it is a plastic bottle full of water. My stomach starts to growl and churn.

“You must be damn hungry,” he says, his deep voice filling the room. I stop myself answering with the words on the very tip of my tongue, remembering at the last second what he is and what his kind have done to people like me. “You look hungry. You must be starving.”

He leans over me, and I instinctively strain against my chains to get to him. Maybe this time I’ll reach him…

My arms and legs hurt too much, and I quickly drop back down. Bastard doesn’t even flinch. He knows I’m not going anywhere.

“You smell of piss,” he says, laughing at me and shaking his head. “You’re in a bad way, big man! Lost, all alone, chained up, and soaked with piss!”

I can’t help trying to lunge forward again, but the pain’s intense, and this time I hardly move. He looks me in the eye and raises his hand. I screw my eyes shut and tense up, ready for him to hit me-but the pain doesn’t come. I feel him tugging on the wide strap across my forehead. He loosens it slightly, then steps back. I still can’t lift my head up, but at least I’ve got some side-to-side movement now. The freedom is bliss.

Mallon picks up the tray and sits down on the chair opposite. He sniffs the soup or stew or whatever it is, then takes a spoonful and holds it up to his lips. He stops just before he eats it.

“You want some of this?”

Fucker knows how much I want it. He’s playing games with me again, and I have to resist. I won’t give him the satisfaction of a response. Won’t lower myself to speak to him. I watch his every move as he blows steam away, then takes a mouthful. He closes his eyes and shakes his head with pleasure, deliberately overdoing it for effect.