Page 50 of Saved By A God
It’s the worst form of torture I’ve ever had to endure.
Fourteen agonizingly long days without seeing Enzo and touching him in some way.
Two weeks without hearing Mom’s voice or having Dad tease me or bring me snacks.
The pain spikes horribly, and I suck in a quivering breath while fighting back the tears.
I miss Alessio, Raffaele, and all the guards who used to annoy me. I’d give anything to see them again.
Jesus. I miss my fortress and my routine. My bed with my soft blankets and pillows. My own clothes instead of these stiff, starched jeans and rough shirt they’ve given me to wear.
Oh God. Junk food.
No, scratch that. I’d eat anything Enzo gives me. If I ever make it out of this hell, I’ll never complain again about eating healthy.
Sometimes the pain of missing my loved ones and life is so overwhelming, I struggle to remain standing and end up in a curled ball on the bed.
I hear a sniffle, and my gaze darts over the hackers I can see, but whoever’s crying is out of my line of sight.
Tim glances to his right before continuing to type, his shoulders hunched. After all this time, I still know only his name.
The guy behind him whispers something repeatedly. A prayer?
At night, when the lights are off and the guards settle into their slower routine, the hackers talk to each other. Soft, broken voices, all different accents, drift from cell to cell around mine.
‘They’ll kill us when they’re done.’
‘My hands won’t stop shaking.’
‘I can’t see properly anymore.’
‘I forgot my mother’s voice.’
‘Do you remember what a burger tastes like?’
‘I can’t sleep. What if tomorrow is my last day?’
The first time I heard their hopeless words, something inside me cracked so hard I had to press my fist to my mouth to keep a sob from escaping.
A man with dark hair and hollow cheeks sleeps in the cell to my right, and Tim is on my left. During my first night here, I tried to talk to them after the lights were switched off, but no one responded to me.
After that, I tried a few more times, but everyone kept ignoring me.
The isolation is… tormenting. I’ve always had someone to talk to, and now the only people who interact with me arethe Russian guards, Kirill, and Danil. And they always keep things short and to the point, hardly ever answering any of my questions.
Suddenly, a loud crack cuts through the air, making me flinch hard. Every hacker in my line of sight freezes at once while looking in the same direction.
I think one of them must’ve fallen asleep, and a guard slammed the butt of his gun against a desk.
My hands tighten around the bars as I press my face to them, and I manage to see a guard grinning as he says, “Next time I shoot you.”
Three more people have been executed.
The first was a man who collapsed and couldn’t get up fast enough. They dragged him to the side and made everyone watch as they shot him in the head. The second was a girl who couldn’t have been older than twenty. She made a mistake on whatever system they’re forcing them to work on, and an FBI alert came up on her screen.
The third was shot yesterday. He was old and begged them in Russian while soiling himself.
In total, eight hackers have been killed since I arrived, and I see each one when I close my eyes at night.
