The Black Hill Bandits (A Zak Bagans Romance)

5. Food.

 The silence of the dungeon terrified me. I wasn't sure what Zachary had planned next – but I was afraid of it. I wasn't sure if he was going to just kill me now, or really what he was going to do. I was sweating in this 15 pound dress I was wearing. I was surprise it wasn't any thicker than a sleeping gown – but it was just like one. I put my head in my hands as a few tears escaped. I lost, Zachary had won. I blamed myself – even though I probably shouldn't. I let a few tears escape my eyes and let out a shaky breath. I wasn't sure how long I had been in here – probably a whole day. I depended on the small window above the cell to provide me with light and time. My hope was lost when I heard heavy footsteps walk down the hallway.

It was him, the devil. His face appeared in my doorway, his blue eyes filled with venom that he attempted to cover up in sweet. He was dressed differently now – a black jacket hung around his shoulders that laid down to his knees. His white button up clean and fresh, and a black scarf hanging around his neck. His black slacks fresher than his shirt, and his shoes fresh. His belt buckle shining in the small amount of light there was in the dungeon, his pistol hanging from the holster on his hip, and he took off his hat before unlocking the cell. I wiped my eyes quickly, not wanting him to see that he had defeated me. “What do you want?” I hissed, masking my fear. Zachary was obviously annoyed with my attitude, because he decided not to say anything to me. He shoved the key into the lock of the cell door before whipping it open, and smashing the iron against the rock wall. I didn't move, I just stared at him.

“You're going to get up weather you like it or not,” Zachary hissed, “You mise as well get up before I change my mind.”

“You're going to rot in hell.” I hissed back.

“You're going to rot in this cell if you don't get up!” Zachary argued. I stood up, and slowly shuffled out of the cell – not listening to his words. He put his hand on my back and shoved me out of the cell, annoyed with my sluggish movements. He slammed the cell door back and grabbed my arm, yanking me down the hallway. I didn't say anything to him – but eying the pistol on his hip. I thought about how many people have died at the tip of that gun. My father included. I shuddered at that thought, and walked with Zachary, my heart tipping. This couldn't be happening – could it? Zachary could kill me at any second, he could turn on me, pull that pistol right out of the holster, and with a BANG I'd be just like my father.

But I can't let that happen, I can't let Zachary win. “Where are we going, Mr. Bagans?” I whispered sheepishly as he half-ran up the stairs, I sprinting behind him to keep up with him.

“On a trip,” Zachary replied, “A mission.”

“For what?” I asked.

“You are going to be our spy,” Zachary began, “Got it?” I stared at him in disbelief.

“What are you talking about?” I began to argue. “I'm no spy, Mr. Bagans.” I played the stupid card, but everyone knew I knew how to get under peoples skin, and their wallets.

“You are going to get every gritty little detail about the gang we place you with, and if you don't-” Zachary tapped his pistol, with a slick smile on his face, “-you get to see your dad again.” I glared at him, my hatred for him making my body fume. “The gang is, The Red Town Rascals.” Now, I was scared. I gasped, and I could almost feel Zachary's excitement. Zachary new that I knew who these men were, and they were just as bad as The Black Hill's – but not quite. The Black Hill had much more of a dark past, and they have been rivals with The Red Town for as long as I've been walking. If I got under their skin, and I knew what they were planning to do, or they found out I was a spy for Zachary's gang – I would be dead with a bang.

“Zachary -” I began, “You're sending me on a death mission. I can't do that.” I tried to pry to get him to not let me go – but he wasn't having it.

“That's a risk I'm willing to take,” Zachary replied simply, a smirk in his voice, “Why do you think I dolled you up, sweetie?” His nickname sickened me.

“For your own sick games.” I hissed back.

“I wouldn't waste all that make-up and fabric for just a 'sick game'.” Zachary smiled. I gritted my teeth but said nothing. Just then, Zachary turned to me – and his sick face became covered in seriousness. “This is what you will do.” Zachary explained, “You will go in there, you will flirt with Mr. Yurich. You'll know him when you see him, just ask around. Get under his skin, get him drunk, take him home, be his girlfriend, do whatever it takes to get him to spill, got it?” Zachary hissed.

I swallowed hard before answering, “Got it.” I replied.

“You don't let him know that you are from here, or else he'll kill you – or I'll kill you, I guess it's a matter of who gets to you first.” Zachary said. I let out a slick breath before Zachary put his hands on my shoulders in a comforting way. “You can do this, sweetie.” Zachary said, “I believe in you.”

“Whatever.” I replied.

“Come with me, let's get you something to eat before you leave for your trip.” I rose my eyebrows at this sudden act of generosity, as my stomach growled in hunger – I quickly agreed. His jacket waved behind him as he led me down the hallway to a huge pair of wooden double doors. They were opened in front of him, as if he was a king. And he was like one, in many ways actually. The sudden aroma of food filled my nose.

“Oh god.” I groaned out loud, my mouth watering at the mounds of food that was laid out in front of Zachary and myself. Zachary chuckled at me, and ignored me as I half-ran to the table, grabbing a handful of the first thing I saw. I shoved it in my mouth without a second thought. But then, as the sick thoughts of what Zachary just might have did to the food – sickened me. I spit it all out onto the table and Zachary looked at me in disbelief.

“Well, what was that for?” He questioned me confused.

“What did you do to it you sick pig!?” I screamed. Zachary rose his eyebrows.

“I didn't even cook the food. What are you talking about?” Zachary said. I rolled my eyes at him.

“I'm not hungry.” I implied.

“Oh, you're hungry.” Zachary replied, “You haven't ate, nor drink.”

“You don't know that.” I replied.

“But I do.” Zachary replied, “The human body cannot go more than 3 days without food before it starts to eat itself. By the end of the 7th day you are nothing, you are dead. You have 2 choices. Eat what is before you, or die of starvation.” I glared at him. He knew how badly I wanted to eat. I had no choice. Eat.

I sat down softly, and the servers around us piled my plate with food, while another cleaned up my mess. Zachary sat down too, eating slowly with his fork, his blue eyes focused on me. I looked at him, “What?” I growled.

“You're marvoulous.” Zachary muttered.

“What?” I questioned, acting like I didn't know what he said.

“I said eat.” Zachary replied simply, before focusing on his food again.

A small smile formed on my face, but I hid it. I'm what?