Some Quiet Place

pack of hyenas. I just watch them throw back their heads and observe the way all the girls’ teeth shine in the weak sunlight.
    Stephanie’s grip is firm. “Are we done?” she asks, cutting the cackling short. My bare feet curl on the ground; a small rock digs into my toe.
    Sophia’s smile dies as she looks at me, and now her eyes burn in a slow smolder of lost regret and hopelessness. She swiftly hides this behind a curtain of hatred. “One more thing,” she hisses. Two quick steps, and her hand is flying. Slap .
    “Don’t ever piss me off again, or it’ll be worse than this.” The threat is empty; Sophia’s disconcerted by the coldness of my gaze, unhidden now, and my disarming smile.
    “Just finish this,” I say to her.
    She doesn’t voice the murderous thoughts emanating from her expression. Instead, she nods to Stephanie. The huge girl hauls me over to the flagpole, setting me up on the cement foundation. I hadn’t known what to expect, but this definitely wasn’t it; I start to rethink letting this happen. Stephanie’s dull eyes watch me sharply for any sign of rebellion. Then one of the girls presents a chain—I hadn’t even noticed it until now. It clinks as she moves.
    They’re hesitating again. Once more Stephanie is the one who takes action. I’ve taken too long to reconsider—before I can jump down from the foundation, she takes the chain in hand and wraps it around me quickly. Once, twice. She also loops them around my wrists. Finished, she then produces a lock. It shuts with a resounding click . The girls stare at me for a moment, waiting for any kind of reaction. Sophia is just smiling.
    The loops of the chain dig into my bones and my bare stomach. Tight, tight, too tight. The telephone pole is a welcome coolness to my back.
    When I give them no tears or pleading, Sophia’s smugness melts into a mixture of disdain. “God, even now you can’t act like a normal human being,” she snaps, and her friends follow suit with the expressions of disgust. Mindless sheep. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” Sophia gestures to those sheep gathered behind her. They start to shuffle away.
    They want a reaction? Fine. “Sophia.” I attempt to put a note of agony in my voice. “Please don’t leave me here. I’ll let you do anything else to me, I’ll say anything you want, but you can’t—”
    “I can do whatever the hell I want. You had this coming. You should have thought about it before barging into my party uninvited and doing this to me.” Sophia jabs a finger at her cast. Her words carry so much more meaning, though. She hates me for having her sister’s affection without even trying, she despises the fact that Joshua sees me instead of her. I open my mouth to add something else—anything—but she’s already walking away again. Her skirt flutters in the breeze, and the girls’ high heels make sharp noises against the pavement. They take my clothes with them.
    One by one, the girls get into their cars. The sound of waking engines erupts throughout the lot. Without honking or sneering or shouting, they leave me. In less than a minute they’ve all driven away. The last pair of taillights disappears around a bend.
    When I can’t hear their cars down the street anymore, I struggle against my bonds, and the rattle of the chains echoes in the silence. But I didn’t think this through; I can’t break free. The parking lot is cold and utterly empty. The breeze blowing past my ears is the only sound for miles. Even though it’s futile, even though there’s no point, I shout at the top of my lungs, “Help! Someone, help me!” Is there any way Fear will hear?
    The parking lot is still empty, as it will be until morning. My truck is lonely in the corner. The sky is uncaring and I’m alone. Now what?
    “Well, this is interesting.”

NINETEEN
    At first I think I imagined the voice. Just to make sure, though, I twist. The chains prevent me from angling my body too much, and the pole is blocking most of my view, but there is a person behind me. I see a head of black, tousled hair and some pressed slacks. How fortunate—I won’t have to spend the night here. “Hello. Do you think you could help me?” I ask politely.
    The man moves, stepping into my line of vision. I take in the tiny smile, the glint in the man’s dark eyes. I’ve never seen him before. He’s wearing a button-down white shirt with a black jacket slung over his shoulder, something that someone might wear