Escaping Grace: A Turning Grace Novel

by Davis, J. Q.

  We began our drive, following Dr. Roberson’s Jeep down a muddy trail.

  I admired the waterfall again before it was out of view, realizing then that it was the first time I had ever even seen one in real life. As we drove closer, I leaned toward it, hoping that I could hear the sound of the water crashing at the bottom. However, the window on Number One’s side was closed and the rain was drowning it out.

  Number One noticed almost immediately what I was trying to do, and found the button on his door for the window to come down. He powered it down all the way, allowing the tranquil sound of water rushing to surround the inside of the Jeep. I hadn’t smiled in days, and this moment changed that.

  I glanced at him while he continued to face forward. Raindrops were colliding with his face, but he kept his serious composure.

  “You can roll it back up,” I said, feeling a little bit guilty for making him get all wet.

  I reached down into my Hobo bag to find my travel-sized baggie of tissues and handed him one.

  “Thank you, Miss Watkins.”

  “You can call me Grace.”

  He blotted his face.

  I turned to look out of my window. We were entering what seemed to be the beginning of a vast forest. Green was all I could see.

  “So, are you assigned to me?” I asked without looking over in his direction. I decided to just come out with it already. Maybe I should get to know at least one person while I was here.

  “I guess you could say that, yes,” Number One responded.

  “Oh.” I was right. I had my own personal bodyguard. Hmm…this made me wonder. Was there a need for me to have a bodyguard? What was he guarding me from exactly?

  The rain seemed to be coming down harder, making it difficult for me to sightsee. I decided to turn my attention to Number One.

  I examined him for a moment while he looked ahead. He sat stiffly in a well-fitted navy suit. He was a big guy, a really big guy. His height reminded me of Phoebe’s boyfriend Eric, about six feet or so. I obviously couldn’t see what was underneath the suit, but by the way his chest firmly jutted outward and his arms seemed as though they could be about the size of both my thighs put together, I assumed he was a body builder of sorts. His bald head glistened from the rain that came in through the window. His facial features were strong and very masculine, almost like a sculpture made of stone.

  He turned and glanced at me, probably because he felt I was looking at him, and I stared into his eyes for the first time. They were as blue as the ocean we were just on.

  I quickly turned away, feeling a bit awkward that he caught me. I thought about asking him what his name was, but decided not to. I was sure I’d find out sooner or later.

  We drove for another twenty minutes before we finally came to a halt in front of a large steel gate. Dr. Roberson’s Jeep pulled up to a tollbooth. After about a minute, the steel gate opened and an arm reached out of the booth’s window to wave the Jeep through.

  Our Jeep rolled forward, stopping next to the booth.

  “¿Cõmo estãs, Jose?” our driver asked.

  “Muy bueno, Carlos. La lluvia es malo hoy, ¿eh?”

  “Los mismo que cualquier otro día,” our driver chuckled out.

  Jose gestured for us to proceed. “¡Que tengas un buen día!”

  Man! I needed to learn Spanish.

  We drove through the gate and pulled to a stop in front of what I was assuming to be the facility. Although my nerves were killing me, I was happy to finally be somewhere.

  I peeked out of the window as Number One stepped out to open the umbrella. I couldn’t see much due to the dark, gloomy weather and rain that was bearing down on us. However, what I could see was a small, one-story brick building with an arched entryway. Above the arch, large, brown letters protruded out of the brick wall that read: EVERLASTING PARADISE.

  Chapter 2

  The Compound

  A chill radiated down my spine.

  Number One opened my door. “Are you ready, Grace?”

  I grabbed my bag and we followed Dr. Roberson up to the arched doorway and through the facility doors.

  “Welcome to Everlasting Paradise, Grace,” Dr. Roberson said, opening his arms wide as if I’d won something on the Wheel of Fortune.

  I glanced around the foyer. There was no one in sight. To be honest, it didn’t seem like much of a paradise. It reminded me of the inside of an office building with the fluorescent lighting, white walls, a plant or two here and there. It was four walls of drab. To the left was a room, with only a desk, a chair, and a bookshelf. Maybe a place where people came to check in?

  Number One, Number Two, and Dr. Roberson’s personal assistant all stood staring at me, awaiting a response.

  “Um…it’s nice?”

  “I know it doesn’t look like much,” he said, detecting that I wasn’t impressed. “Follow me.”

  He walked ahead, and the other three waited for me to follow. I did so, hesitantly. I wasn’t sure what he was getting ready to show me. I kept expecting to see a zombie pop out from somewhere, stumbling about and groaning “braaaiiinnnsss”.

  We walked down a long hallway. At the end, Dr. Roberson hooked a left through a door that led outside.

  I held open the door and turned to find Number One directly behind me. He smiled a slight smile, showing no teeth. Well, slight may not be the right word. It was barely a smile. Or maybe he wasn’t smiling at all and I was just imagining it.

  When I twisted my head back toward Dr. Roberson, I couldn’t stop my jaw from dropping.

  We were on the balcony of a cliff, overlooking a…I guess you would call it, a compound. A short distance away was the beach, where the water matched the color of the gray skies.

  The rain subsided to a drizzle, so I walked out from under the awning to the railing of the balcony to get a better view.

  There were about four beach-style huts. A two-story structure that looked as if it were made out of stone or concrete or something of that nature stood all alone in a far corner to the left, away from the others. Another two-story structure similar to the beachy huts stood alone in the far corner to the right. Palm trees and grass and flowers lined what seemed to be one large courtyard in the middle. There were picnic tables and benches scattered about, reminding me a bit of home and Middleton High School.

  Although the weather was a bit depressing, it was still beautiful. With the beach as a backdrop and the forest surrounding the cutout of the compound, it could have easily passed for a resort.

  “So, what do you think?” Dr. Roberson asked behind me.

  I thought hard about what my answer would be. I didn’t want to tell him the truth, which was that it didn’t matter how beautiful or interesting this place was, I would rather be home. However, I didn’t want to tell him that I was interested or thought it was spectacular. I didn’t want him to think I was happy in the least bit about being here.

  “It’s big.” I settled on the obvious response. His expression did not falter. He maintained the same, creepily excited composure he managed to keep the entire time I’ve known him.

  I noticed Number Two bring his hand up to his ear and press down, exactly how a secret agent would do.

  “Well, Grace, you are on Cocos Island. Have you ever heard of it?”

  I shook my head no.

  “As you know, we are off the coast of Costa Rica. About three-hundred miles or so. This island is a National Park and a popular destination for professional divers.”

  “Divers?”

  “Yes. It’s home to sharks, rays, dolphins, and a large number of marine species. If you are interested, we have diving professionals that will teach you.”

  I didn’t respond. I never really thought about diving. And something about the sharks didn’t seem to strike my interest.

  “Besides the ocean, there are plenty of trails and hikes that we do on a daily basis. There is much to see on this island,” he said with enthusiasm.

  “Where is everyone?”
I asked, suddenly realizing that I hadn’t seen anyone besides our drivers and the tollbooth guy.

  “Our facility functions as any kind of business would. People are in class and working. It also just rained. But it has let up quite a bit, so you will see everyone heading out into the courtyard before too long.”

  “What about other people? Are there locals? I didn’t see much of anyone on the dock.” Paranoia was setting in for some reason. I just needed to feel like I wasn’t completely alone.

  “This island is mostly uninhabited. Besides the subjects and my colleagues on the facility grounds, you won’t see much of anyone else around here. No one actually lives here except maybe a handful of natives and permission is needed to visit Cocos Island. And even then, visitors are not allowed to stay on the island overnight. I guess you can say we’re VIP,” he chuckled.

  I didn’t think it was very funny.

  “Sir, you are needed in the Z Lab,” Number Two stated.

  Dr. Roberson didn’t turn away. Instead he peered out onto the compound with me. “Grace, I know that you are worried and maybe a little bit afraid to be here all alone. But I want you to know, this is good for you. We are going to make you feel as comfortable as we can.”

  I felt him face me. “I know this isn’t home, but I can only hope that you will see it that way one day.”

  “How long will I be here?” I asked, realizing that I didn’t know the answer to this question. My mind was in too many places before. It might have come up…I just didn’t hear it.

  “Well, it really depends on your treatment. But quite honestly, Grace, time will fly here. You’ll see. You will be having too much fun to even notice.”

  I doubted that.

  “Sir?”

  “Yes. Okay, Grace. I must go.” He looked at Number One. “Will you please escort Grace to her suite.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Dr. Roberson headed toward the door, his assistant and Number Two mimicking his exit.

  “Grace,” Number One called.

  The breeze from the ocean found its way through my loose curls. It felt incredible, although not much different than New Orleans. Humidity was in the air, and I silently thanked God I knew how to handle it for my hair’s sake.

  I suddenly remembered my luggage. “Are my bags here?”

  “Yes, they should be in your suite now,” he responded. “Please, follow me.”

  Number One was assertive, but I felt I could trust him for some reason. Maybe it was his devotion to staying next to me the entire journey here. But I was sure he got paid really, really well to do so.

  I tagged along close behind him as he led me down a long and narrow flight of stairs off the balcony. Basically, down the side of the cliff. It was incredible! The steps seemed to be cut out of the side of the mountain and as we climbed down, the stairs curved. The rock was exposed, and I allowed my hand to feel the warm, smooth stones protruding out while keeping steady on our descend.

  We reached the bottom and were immediately in the courtyard of the compound. We walked toward the first structure on the right of the square formation that they were positioned in. Now I could get a better view of what looked like huts or cabanas from far away, but they were much more sophisticated up close. There were transparent, white sheaths draped over the sides. I suppose it gave the illusion of a cabana, however, the structure seemed to be well-built and sturdy and made out of some kind of thick wood. Maybe even bamboo. The roof was covered in thatch, but I was sure it was much tougher than it looked.

  It was rather wide and deep…more so than it seemed from above. There was a sign dangling above the open door that read: VENICE.

  We continued walking to the next structure, almost identical to the first one. Except, this one read: LAGUNA.

  I followed Number One up the porch and through the entrance.

  Once inside, he led me down a long, wide hallway. The walls were bright white and my flip-flops smacked against the heels of my feet and the hardwood floor.

  I know. I normally wore my Chuck Taylors. I had a million pairs in all different colors, but I knew I was coming to an island so I packed a few beach-worthy essentials.

  We passed multiple doorways, some closed and some slightly ajar. I caught glimpses of beds and dressers, which confirmed that they were bedrooms.

  We finally reached the end of the hallway, my “suite” I presumed. Number One opened the door inward and gestured for me to go in.

  I stepped in slowly, not sure of what I was going to find. But I didn’t know why I had any hesitations.

  It was beautiful! And rather spacious.

  There was a queen-sized bed and a wooden dresser on one side. A desk and an armoire aligned the other wall with a door leading to what I assumed was my own bathroom. Straight ahead was a sliding glass door that led to a tiny screened-in patio. It was open, allowing the warm breeze to flow freely through the white, see-through curtains.

  Half of the view from the patio was the Venice hut, the other half was of the white sand and waves crashing on the beach. It wasn’t attached to the room next to mine, but I could easily see my neighbor’s patio.

  I turned around to face Number One.

  “Your things are on the bed,” he stated.

  “Yeah, thank you. Um…so does everyone’s room look like this?”

  “Yes, pretty similar. I will leave you to get settled in. I’m right outside the door if you need me.”

  “Well, don’t you have other things to do?” I asked. I mean, he didn’t have to be with me all the time.

  “No, Grace.” And with that, he shut the door.

  I stood in the middle of my room with only the sound of the ocean. Alone.

  Although I had been on a plane, on a bus, and on a boat for about three days at this point, it all suddenly seemed to be happening so quickly. And it all seemed to finally feel real.

  I glanced around my room. It was very bright, even with the gloomy weather. There was nothing on the walls, definitely something I would have to change. Even a calendar would make it feel more humble, and necessary to keep track of how long I was here.

  I sat on the bed, sinking into a delightful mush of down comforter and memory foam. Ahh…yes. I would sleep really well on this.

  I got up to walk the length of the room. The dresser and armoire were a matching set of espresso-colored dark wood. I opened the armoire doors. It was very beautiful and detailed with tribal-like carvings. I grazed my fingers over the smooth texture and admired the artistry.

  As I outlined the armoire doors with my fingertips, the bouncing screensaver on the computer caught my eye. Emails.

  I sat down on the ridiculously comfortable office chair and moved the mouse to awaken the hibernating modem. After logging into my email account, I waited patiently for the unread messages to load.

  I hadn’t checked anything computer related since we left. Internet connection was at one bar…no bars for most of the time. My heart raced at the thought of reading an email from Tristen.

  I had only been gone for three days, but I was desperate to know what he was doing. What he was thinking. How much he missed me. The thought of him not missing me caused my chest to cave in. Maybe it was because I missed him so much. I was afraid I’d be the only one.

  My unread messages loaded and I scanned through the junk emails. There were about fifty of them, though it seemed like a million. All emails encouraging me to sign up for a credit card, Facebook notifications, and crap I cared nothing about.

  When I finally reached the last bolded heading, my heart sank. Nothing from Tristen.

  At that moment, a faint sound of laughter resonated in my ears. I peered over to the patio door and saw people walking toward the beach.

  I stood up and got closer to get a better view from inside. There was one guy and two girls, one of which seemed to be pretty young. The little girl’s red pigtails dangled below her shoulders as she skipped through the sand holding a boogie board. The older girl had short, black hai
r and was also holding a boogie board and smiling at the little girl. The blonde-haired guy looked like a walking Abercrombie and Fitch ad, wearing a wet suit and clutching onto a neon yellow surfboard.

  I stared for another moment before the guy turned around. He looked straight at me. I quickly moved over and away from his glance, almost as if I was caught spying.

  Get a grip, Grace! They are just people.

  I shook my head and chuckled.

  There was a low rumble in my belly. It was time.

  I opened the door to find Number One standing in the hallway, facing away from me.

  He quickly turned around. “Everything okay?”

  “Um…yeah, yes. I’m just getting hungry. Do you know where I can get some food?”

  “Would you like it sent here, or would you like to go to the mess hall?”

  “I have room service?” I asked, a little shocked. What, am I at some fancy hotel or something? Although, the thought of eating in my own room did sound better than going to the mess hall, whatever that was. I wasn’t quite ready to meet other people, which was obviously showcased a few moments ago by my amateur attempt of going unnoticed.

  “I’ll eat it in my room, if that’s okay.”

  “Absolutely.” Number One began walking down the hall with his finger on his ear.

  Poor guy. He had to stand in front of my room all day? Why didn’t those other people have bodyguards with them?

  I left my door open and began unpacking my things.

  I heard a chirp from my cell phone and pulled it out immediately. It could be Tristen.

  But of course, it wasn’t. It was a text message from my mother. I should at least let her know I was here and safe. Well, as safe as I thought I was.

  Veronica Watkins: Grace, I just wanted to tell you that I love you.

  Grace Watkins: I’m here and fine. Love you too.

  I blacked out my phone and threw it back on the bed. That was about all she would get from me for some time.

  Over the many hours of traveling, I thought long and hard about the last thing I said to her. I will never forgive you… At the time I was furious! I was just told after seventeen years of my life that I died for twenty-three minutes and brought back to life by some experimental serum when I was a child. That my body only worked halfway and that my mother was feeding me dead people without my knowledge. My life was based on a lie. Even my own mother’s name was a lie. How else was I supposed to react?