A few hours went by, leaving the boy and I in an uncomfortable silence. At one point I fell asleep. We couldn't really do anything since vision was not included in the ride, unfortunately, and there was nothing else to talk about. Ten minutes after I had fallen asleep a second time, I was woken up by a blast of fresh air and sunlight. The door was open! "Get out." A man in a black suit was standing there, holding onto a gun. I froze. So did the boy. "Get out!" he repeated.
I stood up with all my effort and made my way outside. The man stared at me, his eyes cold. "Your name?"
I cleared my throat uncertainly. "Isla... Isla Smith."
He nodded and then pointed to the boy. "And yours?"
"Matteo Philippe."
My eyes widened at how Italian that sounded. Mine was a far stretch. The man pushed us onto a gravel road. We were surrounded by stone walls, but there was no ceiling, so I supposed we were in a fort. "Cell twenty-eight," he ordered, gesturing to a section of rock just opposite us. He didn't escort us there. It was about fifty feet away, rather far for our disadvantage of being tied up. Thankfully, another guard unwrapped the rope around our feet, leaving us with hand ties. It was blazing hot. The sun shone onto our backs. "No air conditioning, I guess," I said to Matteo as we walked to the cell. He didn't reply.
When we reached the section of imprisonment, or so the signs were labeled, four guards led us into the assigned cell and locked it just as quickly. I didn't have time to negotiate appropriate water distribution. Immediately, Matteo slumped against a wall. His eyes were watery, his face dotted with sweat. "You got a plan?" he asked shakily.
I shook my head. "Let's do our best with survival first."
"It's gotta be at least forty degrees celsius, I don't think we're in Italy anymore."
A feeling of horrible agreement swept over me. The fact that we had no ceiling was ridiculous, and we had no access to sun protection of any kind, so, by the look of Matteo's pale skin, I figured he would get sunburnt way faster than me. I took off my sweater. I didn't need it anymore. "Put this over your head," I instructed.
He took it thankfully. "Count how many days, okay? I wanna see how long we can survive."
"Where are you from?"
"Uh, my background is British, but my parents immigrated to Italy in hopes of better job opportunities," he said, looking up at me. "Didn't work out."
"You don't have any sort of sunscreen?"
He knit his eyebrows defensively. "Racist."
"No!" I exclaimed. "No, that's not what I meant... I'm just saying that you probably have a better chance of getting sun burnt than me since I have darker skin. That's all I mean."
"Oh." His eyes dropped back to the ground. "Oh, yeah, I guess."
It took three hours of sitting and sweating for the temperate to sink. Pretty soon, a cold breeze came through the area, leaving me in an endorsement of relief. Night began to creep in. The sky was still bright, but the sun wasn't directly over top of us anymore. It had disappeared behind the walls of our cell. "I call first watch," Matteo suddenly insisted.
I raised an eyebrow. "Why... What's to watch for?"
"No ceiling. Anybody could come in." He nodded up to the sky.
"Ummm... Okay. Wake me up when you're tired."
"There'll be no need for that," he said. "I don't sleep when I'm nervous."
"But there's nothing to worry about..."
"Don't argue, I just have anxiety issues. When something happens to me I get too concerned, I can't focus on anything else except the situation, okay?"
I nodded slowly. "Whatever you want."
BANG!