Stephanie and Anna appeared, and I rose to offer my help, but was waved back down. I watched the same routine as yesterday play out, ending with Stephanie bringing my tray to me, as well as hers, and she joined me for breakfast. The potatoes were still excellent and I thought I would never get tired of them.
“Tristan says Ali is awake and healing.” Stephanie said with a bright smile as she joined me. “He also said for you to take this. It’s to help against infection.”
There was a big white pill sitting on my tray, but I didn’t care. The only thing I cared about was the news she had given me. Ali was awake! I was so happy, the potatoes tasted even better today than they did yesterday. I tried to press her for more information, but her frown let me know she didn’t have any. That was okay too. At least I knew that Ali was awake. We ate in silence.
When we were finished, Stephanie grinned at me and stood. "Come with me. I'll show you the pens."
"Okay." I said. Unsure of where we were going or what exactly she was going to show me, I was still eager to follow.
She led me down the hallway toward my room, although she turned to a door on the opposite side of the hall before we got there. This one was plastered with drawings of dogs and other various animal type creatures I wasn't able to make out. She knocked before she entered and a child's voice answered her.
"Come in."
Stephanie pushed the door open, presenting me with yet another room that differed from the normal floor plan. This room had no beds. Instead, it was filled with a collection of small tables, meant for the tiny bodies of children. Various posters of animals, shapes, colors, and letters littered the walls. This was a class room.
"Hi, Stephanie!" Two little voices squealed in unison, and I finally took note of the occupants in the room. There were just three girls, all sitting around one table. The oldest one was holding a book while the other, younger two, had been coloring before we interrupted them. The younger girls looked up at me with identical blue eyes and the same light blond hair. They shared the same smile. Twins.
"This is Regina," Stephanie said, pointing first to the older girl before she named the twins. "To the left is Kara, to the right is Kala."
The girl on the left immediately protested. "I'm Kala!"
Her sister cackled.
"No." Stephanie argued back. "You're Kara!"
"I'm Kala!" Both girls echoed at the same time, then broke out into another bout of giggles. Regina closed her book, setting it calmly on the table. She didn't seem amused by the game the twins were playing.
"How's the baby?" Regina asked, looking intently at Stephanie's stomach.
Stephanie flinched at the question. She seemed to avoid looking at me as she turned from the girls before answering. "Good."
The girls were still arguing over who was who, and Regina picked up one of the crayons and started to color in part of Kala's... or Kara's book. I had turned to follow Stephanie before the girl noticed her, quickly becoming intrigued by Regina's advanced talent. The other twin broke away to join us at the window.
I looked down on what I thought used to be a garden. Bits of concrete still remained in places, but it had been torn up to serve as a small pasture. Goats and sheep roamed the area, pinned in by a mishmash of boards, cars, tires, and even some chain link fence here and there.
"Whatcha doing?" The girl asked as she pressed herself up to the glass.
"Showing Joss the goats." Stephanie answered, although she remained quiet. The little girl nodded knowingly, as if this was all normal to her.
The girl tapped on the window, attempting to point at one of the animals. "That one with the black hooves is named Pebbles. I named her myself! Can you see her?"
After a moment, I realized all the goats had black hooves. I looked down at her blue eyes that were fixed on me and chose to nod. With a smile I said, "I see her."
I didn't see her, but the girl turned back to look at her goat with a grin of satisfaction on her face. After a few moments, her sister began to giggle at Regina's artwork and that drew Kala – Kara? – back to the table.
Stephanie glanced at them, making sure they were out of earshot before turning her attention back to the window. "She's obsessed with the baby."
I frowned to myself, considering how to respond. I wasn't sure why that seemed to make Stephanie sad. "Is that a bad thing?"
There was a pause before she answered. "She'll never know what it's like to have been normal, to grow up dreaming of becoming a doctor or ballerina one day. This is what she knows."
Stephanie glanced down at her belly and my eyes followed. She cupped the roundness of her stomach like she was holding a ball. Her voice was a sad whisper when she continued. "She's only ten now, but she knows she'll be in the pits with her sister as soon as she's old enough to get pregnant. It's the way Reed runs things here. It's what he forces Anna to teach them. If she's lucky, one of the good ones will claim her."
The joy of the morning was stolen. There was no escaping where we were, and I found my mind whirling with worry for not only Ali, but now for Regina. Then after that, Kara and Kala. Even Stephanie would end up in the pits again eventually. Bile rose in my throat.
It weighed on me so heavily, I retreated to my room with the excuse I didn't feel well. In truth, I didn't feel very good anymore, but it wasn't physical. Stephanie let me go without protest, although her eyes followed me until I was out of view. I had a feeling she knew what was wrong.
I spent the day hiding in my room, staring out the window and memorizing everything I could see. There really wasn't much to look at. Even the guards that changed out every few hours were boring. Either I recognized them, or I didn't. There wasn't much else to it.
Charles silently brought both my lunch and dinner. Both times I returned the trays to Anna's room without seeing a hint of Stephanie. By the time the light was fading to night, I was worrying about her, hoping I hadn't done something to offend her or jeopardize our new friendship.
The next morning, I made my way to the elevator lobby to wait for breakfast. Sally was standing guard duty again and he smiled and waved, just as he had done the day before. It was easier to wave back this time, but I still couldn't muster a smile. Instead, I wondered if he was one of the men that would visit the pits. I sat in my chair and my teeth ground with anger the more I thought about it. The arrival of the food trays broke my destructive train of thought.
Stephanie stepped from her room, her gaze coming to rest on me and she smiled immediately. Seeing the slight curve of her lips reassured me. The smile I returned was natural. The tension released as I leaned back in my chair and waited for her to pass out all the food trays. When she was finished, she carried both mine and hers toward me. This time, she didn't fuss when I met her halfway.
Anna, on the other hand, managed to sneak in a disapproving look before she disappeared into her room to feed the younger kids. I pretended I didn't see her.
"Feeling better?" Stephanie said as she joined me.
"A little." I offered, uncomfortable with my half lie.
"I'll need to change your bandages again after breakfast."
"Sure." I said, stuffing a spoonful of potatoes into my mouth. That was all it took to bring back the butterflies. I didn't know if it would be better or not without Charles there to stare at me awkwardly through the ordeal.
Amazingly enough, I wouldn't get the chance to find out. Charles seemed to appear beside us once we dropped the food trays in front of Anna's door. I still had never heard the boy say a word, but his awkward demeanor was starting to grow on me. I was glad for his company.
"Fetch a bucket of water for me?" Stephanie asked him and he nodded, slipping into Anna's room. "Come on, he'll catch up."
I had no doubt.
I led the way down the hall, pausing as Stephanie disappeared into her room for a moment. She returned only seconds later, carrying a bundle of clothes. She held them out to me and I took them with one hand, still favoring my injured shoulder. "Clean
clothes."
"Thanks."
"You can wash up afterwards." She said as we walked. "The men bring us these huge bottles of water every week. We still ration it, but it's not like we're going to run out if we're careful. The wash water looks like lake water sometimes, but the drinking water is still clean."
My cheeks flushed. I hoped she wasn't telling me this because I smelled, but I knew it was a possibility. I hadn't bathed since before we were captured. I was so self-conscious about it by the time we got back to my room, I struggled to get my shirt off by myself. It felt like my wound was going to allow it, but Stephanie insisted on helping. I tensed, and that probably ended up hurting me more than if I'd pulled my shirt off on my own. At least Charles hadn't made it back to witness the spectacle.
Soon enough, I was seated and staring at the ground in an attempt to hide my embarrassment. Stephanie either didn't care or was doing a good job of pretending not to notice my discomfort. She was setting out the bandages when Charles walked in, the water slushing around in the bucket and splashing to the floor.
Blood had managed to seep over my skin again, but this time it didn't soak through the bandage. Stephanie gently pulled them away and I felt the same goose bumps as she slid the wet wash cloth across my skin.
She mumbled when she had most of the blood cleared away. "Charles, can you fetch me some of Anna's small sewing scissors?"
Charles leapt from the bed and was running to the door when Stephanie snapped, "Walk!"
He didn't look back, but he did slow. At least until he was out the door and around the corner, then we both heard his footsteps speed up again. I chuckled, letting it break the tension.
"Who stitched you up?" She asked me as she moved to inspect my chest.
"Hawk." I replied. "Breck was in the room with him, but he didn't help."
"No, he wouldn't help. Breck's worthless, but Hawk knows what he's doing." She sounded perplexed as she started to uncover the wound in the front. It did still feel a bit tender to the touch.
"Who are some of the good ones?" I asked her, hoping she would catch my meaning, and her dark eyes flashed up to mine for a second.
"Tristan, of course. Sal and Miguel. There are a few others," She replied, focusing back on her task. "The bad outnumber the good though."
"Who are the bad?" I watched her brow furrow, but she didn't meet my eyes again.
"Everyone thinks Russell is the worst, but I hate Mick more than anything. Well, maybe not more than Reed. Terry and Oscar are pretty bad too." She stopped there, forcing me to ask the question.
"Why do you hate Mick so much?" I licked my lips out of nervousness, and watched her straighten to look down at me with a scornful look on her face.
"They put me in the pits after I'd only been here a few months. Mick claimed me." Her brow furrowed as she looked down at her belly. Her voice grew soft. "The question is, do I hate the baby because of who the father is? It's not its fault though, is it?"
The sadness in her eyes turned to a pleading and my hand moved of its own accord. I reached up to press my fingers against her taut belly and she tensed for a brief moment. Then she took my hand and moved it along the swell, pressing my palm flat against her rounded stomach.
My breath caught in my throat and I froze, waiting as the moments passed in silence. I had thought she wasn't that far along, but now I was thinking I might have misjudged. As a minute slipped by, I felt it. The slightest flutter against my hand and I gasped. Looking back up into her eyes, I knew the answer to her question.
I shook my head, "It's not the baby's fault."
She nodded, although she didn't seem convinced. "I think that most of the time too." She reached up to wipe a tear from her cheek and that was the first time I realized she had been crying. "But that doesn't stop the nightmares."
I let my hand fall away as she started to wring out the cloth again. She continued, "I just don't want to have a baby growing up here. It would be better if it's a boy, then he can grow up to be a soldier, but if it's a girl..."
"I need to tell you something." What was I doing? Why had I said that? I had gotten her attention and she was looking at me curiously. I had to continue, but wasn't sure how. I finally waved her towards the bed, deciding I didn't want to back out. "Maybe you should sit."
Her brow furrowed as she looked at me, but she obeyed. Nervously, she sat on the edge of the bed directly across from me. The worry in her dark eyes threatened to drown me. I had no idea how she was going to take the news.
"Mick's dead." I said bluntly. "Ali killed him."
~ ~ ~ ~
Stephanie stared at me blankly for a second. I wasn't sure if she'd even heard me. Then slowly, the crease in her forehead started to fade away and she half snorted, half laughed. A moment later, and she'd broken out into a fit of laughter. I stared at her in confusion as she fell back on the bed, rolling over on her side and pulling her legs up as far as she could into a fetal position.
The laughter faded, but her shoulders still shook. I realized her laughter had turned to sobs. I was at a complete loss at what to say, and I felt like I'd made a terrible mistake. It was then that Charles came skipping back into the room to stop dead in his tracks at the doorway.
He took a few slow steps into the room, his eyes wide and I finally heard him speak. "What did you do to her?"
I was shaking my head and on the verge of panic. I had no idea how to answer. He glared at me and images of him running down the hall screaming for Anna and the guards to come for me flooded my mind. Thankfully, Stephanie calmed enough to answer. Her voice cracked when she spoke. "Joss gave me some good news."
The perplexed look on his face must have mirrored my own. Even though I was struck dumb, Charles knew what to do. Instead of bolting from the room like I feared, he climbed onto the bed beside her. Hugging her, he laid his head down on her shoulder and gently patted her arm.
My appreciation of the kid grew, and I decided to stay quiet while Stephanie processed the news. Charles seemed to be doing a much better job of comforting her than I ever could.
A cool breeze from the window brushed over my bare skin and I my checks flushed when I remembered I has half naked. Turning to the mirror, I pulled the rag out of the bucket and began to clean the blood from my shoulder. I was in a rush to finish this up so I could get my shirt back on. Knowing where I was still tender, I was able to work faster than Stephanie ever could. I quickly cleared away the blood and scab to reveal a soft pink patch of new skin growing underneath.
Frowning, I poked at it, not believing what I was looking at. It was still raw, but completely healed over. I turned so I could see the wound on my back in the mirror, but wasn't able to get a good angle. I was going to need help with that one, and that would bring questions I didn't know how to answer.
Deciding it was best to do it myself, I dried my skin then slapped a bandage over my front wound. Then, once again, was twisting in front of the mirror to get a decent view so I could place a bandage on my shoulder, rushing to hide my scar. The thread still itched in my healing skin, but I would have to deal with that later. I wasn't fast enough, and Stephanie started to stir.
"You don't have to do that." She said softly, but I responded quickly.
"It's alright. You've helped plenty." I said, dropping the bandage as I panicked. I tried again, nervous under her watching eyes. Charles wasn't paying attention to me at least. He was running his fingers through her dark blonde hair, straightening what he could of her tousled curls.
"I'm glad he's gone." She said, absently patting Charles on the leg. I was lucky her mind was still far away so she didn't notice the horrible job I did getting the bandage on my back. "I just wished I'd been the one to do it. I hope I get to meet Ali someday."
My stomach twisted in a weird way. I wished she could meet Ali under normal circumstances, for normal reasons, but this wasn't normal. I reached to pull my shirt on and mumbled out of courtesy, "Me too."
The bandage fell away. I reached for
it as Stephanie came closer. I grimaced when she gasped.
Stephanie leaned forward, so close I could feel her breath on my bare skin and I retreated a few steps away from her. Her eyes were wide as she followed me. Her hand found a solid grip on my arm and spun me around, poking at the tender skin of my shoulder with her slim fingers.
She breathed against me again and whispered. "When did you get shot?"
"A few days ago." I said, pulling away again. This time she let me go.
"I saw that wound..." Her arms hung limply at her sides as she stared after me, shaking her head. Charles pulled himself to the edge of the bed, his full attention on us. "That's impossible."
"But I did." I said plaintively, begging her to believe me with my eyes. She stared back and I saw resolve swirl up in the dark depths.
"Sit." She commanded, her finger pointing toward the chair.
I gulped as I considered my slim list of options. If I didn't sit, I was sure it would cause a rift between us. If I did sit, my secret was in danger. As the nerves writhed around in my gut, I made my decisions. I sat.
Stephanie was at my back quickly, taking a closer look at what she'd already seen. Then she spun me around and, not as gently as she had in the past, pulled away the bandage on the front. The wound was covered in new, pink flesh. It was obvious that I had healed at an inhuman pace. "There's no wound."
She was at my back again, pulling the rag from the bucket and roughly slapping the water laden cloth against my back. It hurt. I winced, ducking my shoulder down on instinct to escape the abuse.
"Sorry." She breathed and paused for several seconds while I broke into a sweat. Then the light touch of her fingers traced over the skin along the curve of my neck. Goose bumps rose on my arms and my heart began to pound before I released what she was doing.
When it hit me, I fled her, again. Jumping from the chair, I was by the window before I turned to face her, wide-eyed in alarm. She was frozen with both her hands still up in the air, the rag dripping water to the floor. It might have been comical in any other situation.
The Phoenix Curse (Book 2): After Page 14
