Ruled By Fear Read Free Page B

few cracks in the warped, wooden walls.
         His voice was weak and raspy, and he headed toward a small table holding a cracked pitcher.  Picking it up he was both relieved and dismayed to find only enough water to moisten his dry mouth.  He would need more soon, but finding Keith was his first priority.  He did a careful inventory of the room to see if it contained anything useful, but other than a bed, the table and pitcher, and a small chamber pot, which he used quickly, the room was empty.
         Wishing he had some sort of weapon, he headed for the door.  He had expected to find himself locked in, but the creaky door opened easily.  Finding himself in the middle of a long hallway, in which were at least seven other doors, he started toward the right and soon found a set of rickety old stairs.  He made his way down cautiously, the old rotting boards beneath his feet making his spine tingle with every groan.  Though he wanted to call out for his brother, the very air around him seemed to warn against making any loud noises.
         He climbed down two flights of stairs before he finally heard a faint clatter of dishes and a few hushed voices.  One more flight brought him to the ground floor of what was appeared to be a very large house.  To the left of him was a great, open room that in better days might have been the parlor.  The stark, grey walls caused him to shiver, and the gaping lack of furniture gave him the feeling of being in a large airy cave.  To the right, the voices came from what he assumed to be the dining room.
         Making his way quickly into the room, he found himself in the company of a group of mostly men all dressed exactly alike—exactly like him, even the two woman he counted were dressed in the same faded gray pants and matching long-sleeved shirt.
         “Hey, Aaron, over here.” He turned quickly at the sound of Keith’s voice.
         Relief washed through him as he saw his little brother seated at a small table with two other young men and a small slip of a girl. He made his way over to the table and sat down.  Keith immediately slid a dented tin plate in his direction.
         “Here, I saved you some of mine,” he said.
         Aaron looked at the half-eaten biscuit, and what at one time had probably been an egg.
         “No thanks, I’m not hungry,” he said, making a face and pushing it away.
         “Can I have it then?” asked a young blonde-headed boy sitting across from him.
         “Help yourself,” he answered, and watched in bewilderment as the boy grabbed at the food, quickly wolfing it down.
         Aaron closed his eyes and shook his head.  This has to be a dream.   Opening his eyes, and finding himself still sitting at the table, he turned to Keith.  “Okay, what’s going on?”
         “Ask him,” Keith answered, nodding his head toward a curly-haired young man that looked to be about the same age as Aaron.
         “I was just explaining things to your brother here,” the man said.  “My name’s Tom, by the way, and this place . . . it’s every nightmare you’ve ever had put together.”
         Aaron gave him a quizzical look and Keith’s eyes grew wide.
         “Each of us was brought here,” he continued, “same as you.  One minute, asleep in the canyon with our partner, the next we woke up here.”
         Aaron had been glancing around the room as Tom spoke and interrupted.
         “I don’t see any guards,” he said. “What’s stopping you all from just leaving?”
         Aaron watched in wonder as his table mates suddenly seemed to grow agitated.  Tom lowered his voice before continuing.
         “Don’t know,” he answered.
         Aaron frowned in puzzlement.
         “Don’t know what?” he asked.
         “Who it is that keeps us here.  Some say it’s him,” Tom said, tossing his head in the direction of an old, bent man standing toward the back of