Amnesia

VII.

Everyone, even Taehyung by some random miracle, all froze at the sound of footsteps. Remy hoped with all her heart that they were all just imagining the sound. Their luck couldn't get any worse, right?

But no, those footprints were definitely real. They were crunching the gravel outside the house. They were coming to the door.

"Maybe it's the person who owns the house?" Hoseok whispered.

Remy doubted it. She also doubted that if by any chance it was the person that owned the house, that person would likely not be happy to see them. She looked up, and her eyes met Namjoon's. It was clear he was thinking the same thing she was.

"Hide," Namjoon said.

Somehow Remy ended up with Taehyung being placed into her arms as she curled up in a small broom closet. It made sense, as it was the biggest hiding spot in the kitchen - she saw Jimin climbing up the chimney that rose above an old fireplace, Jeongguk pulling himself into a cupboard near the sink, and Seokjin lifting his body up into a trapdoor in the ceiling that appeared go to an attic.

Remy shared once last panicked look with Namjoon before the door was closed and she and Taehyung were plunged into darkness.

The door creaked open, and the footsteps were now on old wood flooring. Whatever shoes this person was wearing, they were thick and heavy. Probably boots of some sort.

Sadly, Taehyung chose that exact moment to start whimpering again. The footsteps toward the kitchen became quicker. Remy tried shushing Taehyung, whispering words of comfort, anything to make him be quiet. But it didn't work, and Remy remembered the syringe that was still in her hand, the liquid encased in glass sloshing about.

The idea that went through her head both made perfect sense and filled her with shame. She hated herself for it. But she had to do it. If Taehyung gave them all away, they could all die. Or end up in a situation much worse than dying.

Remy clenched her eyes shut. "I'm sorry," she whispered in Taehyung's ear, even though she knew he couldn't hear her.

Then she found the vein in Taehyung's wrist and empties the contents of the syringe into his arm.

In just a few seconds, his entire body relaxed and fell into her arms. She held him tighter, her heart aching with shame. She realized that she was crying, tears dripping down her chin and into Taehyung's dust-covered hair.

The footsteps came closer, and closer, and now Remy was sure the person was in the kitchen. They stopped. Every fiber of Remy's body tingled with anxious electricity. She was sure she was breathing too loudly. She was sure people on the other side of the world could hear how loudly her heart was beating. Surely that person was going to open that door and they'd be found, all of them.

She kept listening.

And listening.

The silence was almost worse than the footsteps. At least then it gave her something to focus on. But this, this nothingness, that was so much worse. Was it possible that this person was playing mind games with them? Was it possible this person absolutely knew they were there and was just waiting for them to crack and climb out of their hiding places without a fight? Was this person punishing them for being an obstacle in their human trafficking scheme, and was going to let Taehyung bleed out in the middle of nowhere, far from home to set an example?

If that was what was happening, then that was probably the cruelest thing to happen to them yet. Torture of the body is bearable. Torture of the mind will drive you insane.

The long, silent minutes dragged on. There were no more footsteps. There was nothing on the other side of that door. Remy pressed her hand tighter onto Taehyung's abdomen.