by CC Solomon
I shrugged. I felt a sense of calm I couldn’t explain. I really had no plan, but I knew that we were getting out of here. Because of a dream? I couldn’t help but wonder if I was losing my mind. If my being here all this time had finally broken me.
“Look at Sam,” Jared said, shaking his head.
We looked over a few tables and saw a man who, in the Pre-world, was probably in his early 50s, but in this new world, looked twenty years older. His hair, long and disheveled, had gone totally gray before our eyes. He was thin, with lifeless green eyes and a full beard. His skin was ashen and pale. He looked like a sick Santa Clause. Sam sat, slowly eating oatmeal, lifting the spoon as if it were a heavy dumbbell.
“He’s not going to make it much longer,” Charles observed.
“Right,” Jared stated. “So, what’s the point of playing it safe? We die now, or we die later.”
“Some of us aren’t running to death that easily,” Chelsea said with a bit of anger in her voice. “Some of us have hope that things will get better. That we will be rescued. We just have to keep living.”
I smiled and patted her hand. “And that’s what I plan for us to do.” When I figured out a plan.
After breakfast, I wandered over to the garden area. The grounds were full of flowers and vegetables that we, the prisoners, put there and kept up. Our main job was to keep the facility going. Farming, tending to the cattle, cleaning, cooking, keeping the power functioning with our magic. We were, for the most part, off the grid and self-sustaining, despite the rest of the country slowly getting back to the way things once were.
I’d never had a green thumb before, but in this new world, my job was growing vegetables, fruits, and herbs. I got on my knees and checked on several spices of oregano, rosemary, and thyme.
I felt him coming towards me before he showed up. I always did. My skin tingled, and I had a queasiness in the pit of my stomach.
“Amina, you look well,” he said. His voice was deep, and when he spoke, it felt as if my bones rattled in my body from the vibration.
I cringed and looked up at him. He had become my nightmare realized. His name was David Everett. He ran the hospital/prison. I wasn’t sure if he had any unseen bosses, but visually he was it to all of us prisoners.
David was in his mid to late 30s, fit and tall, maybe 6’4, with short, dirty-blond hair, and blue eyes so pale they looked almost clear around the black pupils. He had a strong jaw with thin lips and a narrow nose. In another life, one might have found him attractive. However, he wasn’t my type. In the Pre-world, I imagined he was a yuppie prick who worked on Wall Street and had an easy life. It seemed a bit unfair that in this new world, he would still be winning.
I didn’t speak and continued to tend to the garden.
He knelt beside me, and my stomach clenched.
“Glad to see you’ve recovered.”
I scooted away. “I don’t want to have a conversation with you. We aren’t friends. You aren’t my boss. We don’t need small talk.”
“Amina, I’m sad you feel that way.”
I faced him, frowning. “Cut the bullshit. I’ve been trapped here for six months. At no point was I ever confused that I was here on some extended vacation. You kidnapped me and my brother and all these people—”
“You’re not people,” David said, his voice tight with anger, eyes growing colder.
I balled my fist, holding in my own anger. “You hate us, but you want to be us.”
He smiled, but the frostiness in his eyes remained. “Amina, we’ve had this conversation time and time again. It’s getting boring. This is just us fighting fire with fire. We have no choice. Your kind murders us. I think we are being quite generous taking you in. I take care of you. I give you food, shelter, clothing. And in return,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial filled with red liquid. Most of it was blood, probably mine. “In return, you give me this. Fair trade, no?”
I looked at him in disgust. “Funny, I don’t recall needing your help. We were surviving; we were doing well. You weren’t. We didn’t need a damn trade.”
He opened the vial and drank the liquid. I wanted to gag. I’d seen worse; I should have been stronger, but I wasn’t. This place had taken a lot out of me. Almost every night, they took our blood, having found some way to make a blood potion to make themselves stronger that I couldn’t figure out. Maybe it was magic as well.
David tapped the bottom of the vial, trying to drain it of all its liquid. I wanted to knock the vial out of his hand, but that would do no good in the end. He licked his lips, capturing any remaining serum, and gave a deep sigh, closing his eyes and smiling.
I shuddered. “You could have had this moment in your room. In private. But no, you’re an asshole, so you sit here and do it in front of all of us,” I spat.
He opened his eyes and turned to me as if just noticing I was there. “I really like your spunk, Amina. It kind of turns me on. You know, in another life, we’d probably be dating. I would never consider you in any romantic relationship now, of course, but it doesn’t mean we couldn’t be together in other ways.” He smirked at me with lust-filled eyes, and I grimaced. “I could make life good for you here.”
“As always, no thanks.”
He looked me over in a way that made me want to cover up more. “You could have better food. More entertainment privileges. Alcohol. Get you off of labor. I could visit you tonight to…help you reconsider.”
I looked away. “Pass.”
“That’s what you say now, but you’ll change. They always do.”
“I haven’t in six months.”
He gave a dry chuckle. “You’ve got a strong resolve. I think that’s what makes you more interesting to me. But I will wear you down. Just like the others. I’ve been very respectful of you all this time. I’ve never hurt you or your brother, Charles. Remember that every time you turn me down.”
David leaned over, and I recoiled, my lips in a tight line. He moved closer towards me and kissed me on the cheek. I fought the urge to immediately rub at my face.
“Everything okay, Mina?” Jared asked, walking over to me, a rake in his hand.
I nodded. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
David gave Jared an amused look. “And in case it wasn’t, Jim, was it?”
“Jared,” the werewolf sneered.
“Jared, what were you going to do?”
Jared tightened his grip on the rake but kept his eyes on David, rage brimming beneath the surface of his gaze.
David stood up. “On your knees, wolf.”
“What?” Jared asked eyebrows gathered in confusion.
“Knees, get on your knees.” David gave a smug smile.
“Is this necessary?” I asked.
“I’m waiting,” David stated, ignoring my question.
Jared’s lips tightened in a line, and he griped the rake so tightly his knuckles turned white. His emotions were written all over his face. He was contemplating. Not about kneeling down but about using that rake to stick into David’s stomach. And David knew it. This request was a lesson. A lesson to show us who was in power. Because although Jared, as a werewolf, could have easily snapped David’s neck, he couldn’t do it now. Not while he was drugged and drastically reduced in power. And not right after David had ingested the special serum to make himself super-powered. It would end up in Jared getting hurt or worse.
“You wouldn’t want me to hurt the lovely Amina, here, would you? She’s your friend. You care about her. I would hate to damage her,” David stated, a threat in his voice.
I glared up at David. Damage me? Like I was some sort of object. I realized he meant it as he said it. To him, we were not people. He would hurt me and think because I was paranormal, I could be repaired. He had no thought about the psychological damage.
I looked to Jared and slowly shook my head. He had to set his pride aside and give in just this once. We’d be out of here and we would have our revenge.
Jared jamm
ed the rake into the dirt and got to his knees, holding David’s eyes as he lowered down.
David walked over to him, lifted his left leg in the air, and knocked Jared in the shoulder with his foot. Jared fell back on his butt in the dirt, and David laughed.
“Good dog,” he stated. He turned to me and winked. “Have a nice afternoon, Amina. You’re doing good work in this garden. I think I’ll have you cook something good for me tonight,” he said, walking away.
I gave his back the middle finger.
Jared pounded the ground with his fist. “That fucker makes my ass itch. Son of a bitch thinks he can do whatever he wants.”
“For now.”
Jared got up. “You know, it’s funny.”
I stood up as well, wiping the dirt off of my cargo pants. “How so?”
“I used to be an arrogant prick. Thought I was the top of the food chain. Didn’t acknowledge my privilege. Maybe this is karma for my selfish ways. Maybe for not thinking about people who didn’t have the privileges I had.”
I sighed. “Well, if it’s karma for you, what is it for me?”
Chapter 3
A few days had passed since my dream of the mysterious Phillip, and I had lucked out so far with not having another blood draw. I still didn’t have a plan of action yet, but when the drugs they kept us on wore off, I had hopes my mind would be a little sharper.
I looked out of the window of my room/prison. The evening sunset a warm, orange glow over the hospital grounds. Nothing creepy scampered across the lawn or flew in the air, but that was due to the protective ward surrounding the hospital grounds. For a moment, the world seemed…normal.
I wasn’t really sure where we were, but I could tell it was in the suburbs or the countryside. The cities held the most supernatural mayhem. This was mostly because there were more people in a smaller zone. For instance, vampires liked the city. There were more people for them to drain, and it was easier for the vampires to get to them.
The rural areas were risky, too. Yes, it had the least amount of supernatural beings, but the ones it did have were the scariest of all. Usually, the big scary creatures that took blood, sweat, and tears to get rid of. Plant life that flourished and, you know, ate people. And were-creatures that liked to run wild and free and also…eat people. Sure, this stuff came to the suburbs but not as often and not as strong as it was in the country or city. The suburbs used to seem like boring meccas for families; now they were the ideal living situation for everyone.
I had to keep in mind outside threats when I escaped. Leaving would be difficult, and leaving at night would be risky, even after we got off the premises. I could see myself breaking free from these bloodsuckers only to face real bloodsuckers in the woods.
I heard a knock at my door. “It’s unlocked…as always,” I called.
Chelsea walked in. She looked ready to go to the club. She wore red lipstick, her hair was down and cascading over her shoulders, and she had on a short, green, bodycon dress with gold stilettos.
“Going to a party tonight?” I asked dryly, leaning back on my bed.
I noticed that she had a wrinkled shopping bag in her hand. She put it on the foot of my bed.
“They have fun here. They have a whole community in a part of the hospital we never get to go to,” she stated, placing her hands on her hips. “There’s a restaurant and a makeshift bar, and they have a rec room, gym, hair salon.”
How was this answering my question? I raised an eyebrow. “Fascinating. What’s in the bag?”
“Clothes.” She reached in and pulled out a silver, one-shouldered dress that stopped at the knees. She dug back into the bag and brought out a pair of silver, strappy sandals.
“What is this for?”
“You. To wear and come with me.”
I frowned and crossed my arms. “Go with you where? We are prisoners, not teens sneaking out the window to go to a club.”
“You dress up, you go there, flirt a little. The more you flirt, the more you get. It’ll make life better.” She sat down on my bed.
“I’m missing a sentence here. Go where?” I asked again.
She sighed. “The restaurant becomes their bar of sorts. It’s their entertainment at night.”
“Got it. And so by flirting, you mean sleep with.”
She gave me a patient smile. “You only do what you want to do.”
“Chelsea, I’m not going to whore myself out for these guys and make it seem like things are okay.”
Chelsea stiffened. “I’m not a whore.”
I leaned forward and touched her hand. “Of course, you aren’t. Look, these magic sedatives they have us on to keep us in line aren’t allowing us to make the best decisions.”
Chelsea crossed her arms and shook her head. “This is why I never wanted to ask you before. You don’t know how it is. I’ve been here for over a year. We really aren’t getting out. No one is looking to rescue us. This could be forever. Do you want it to suck the whole time?”
I frowned. “Chelsea, we aren’t going to live long enough to care if we stick around. We have gifts. I’m a witch. You’re a vampire. We’re defects to them, and on borrowed time here.”
Chelsea threw her hands up in the air. “Yes, I’m a vampire. Who needs blood, so I can’t afford to be resistant like you. If I want to get any blood, I have to play along.” Her eyes watered, and she looked away. “I tried. Before you got here. But call me weak, I don’t want to die.”
I moved over to Chelsea and wrapped an arm around her. “I’m sorry, honey.”
She nodded and dabbed at the corner of her eyes. “Not all of them are bad, you know. Some are just trying to survive. This world, it’s not for regular humans anymore.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going to feel sorry for them. I can’t go with you, Chelsea.”
“Don’t you even remotely want to see how the other half lives? If you aren’t comfortable, you can leave.” She gave me pleading eyes.
I opened my mouth to say no then closed it. Seeing more of the layout of the hospital might be of use for my escape.
I got dressed, and we left my room.
We walked through the familiar part of the hospital, only getting stopped a couple of times by the guards. Chelsea flashed some type of pass, and they let us go without further questioning.
Eventually, we entered a wing I’d never traveled before. It looked like much of the rest of the hospital. White-tiled floors, beige walls with signs listing locations of various specialty areas that were now vacant. Hospitals were typically not the best places to set up any residence, due to the large amount of dead from the Sickness. Then there were the victims of supernatural attacks. And not to be forgotten, those who were already ill or injured from Pre-world misfortunes.
Hospitals, themselves, became nothing more than large morgues and places to raid for medical supplies. Yet, here, the dead had long been removed by those behind this operation to repurpose the hospital. I couldn’t begin to imagine how long that ordeal took and how gruesome it must have been. The dead were not contagious, and so the threat of the Sickness was not a threat to our normal human prison guards.
We continued our walk past a pharmacy and a coffee shop and went down an escalator to the ground floor. From there, I followed Chelsea down another hall, and we stopped in front of a cafe that looked like it was once a fancy lunch spot and was now a makeshift bar. Inside, 90s era pop music played from a stereo and men and women dressed in evening attire talked, laughed, and drank throughout the space. Most of the people were our captors, but I saw a few of the gifted people like myself chatting it up with our kidnappers.
The overhead lights were off, and instead, the cafe was lit by string lights and table lamps. Small, circular tables with chairs were placed around the perimeter of the space to allow for a small dancing area.
It was shocking. I turned to Chelsea. “How long have you been coming here?” I asked, loud enough to be heard over the music.
She leaned into me. �
��Maybe five months,” she replied. She grabbed my hand, and we headed over to a table where two men were seated. They were normal humans and, therefore, a part of this whole screwed-up situation.
“Oliver,” Chelsea exclaimed. She bent down and kissed a bearded red-head on the lips. He was a handsome, fair-skinned, white guy with smiling brown eyes that lit up when he saw her. Had it been any other time, place, and situation, I would have thought it precious. Instead, it just confused me more.
Chelsea sat down on his lap and looked over to me. “Amina, this is Oliver. And this is Reggie.” She pointed to a mocha-colored black man with long, black locks. He gave me a closed-lipped smile.
“Have a seat,” Reggie stated, motioning to a chair beside him. “Can I get you, two ladies, a drink?”
“Vodka tonic,” Chelsea replied.
Reggie got up and looked at me. “You?”
I remained standing. “Nothing.”
He tilted his head. “Come on, relax. Walk with me to the bar, pick out what you’d like.”
I looked over to Chelsea, who was now busy making out with Oliver. I tried my best to hide my disdain and followed Reggie to the counter, which was doubling as a bar.
“So, Amina, I think I’ve seen you around. What are you?”
“Human. Black with a dash of Seminole Indian and Irish on my mother’s side. I’m also female.”
He chuckled. “Come on, you know what I mean. I’m human. You’re,” he looked me up and down. “Something more.”
I gave a nonchalant shrug. “A witch, I guess.”
“Are you pretty powerful?”
I leaned against the bar. I really wasn’t up for small talk with this human traitor. “None of us are powerful now, are we?”
He nodded. “Welcome to the club.”
Okay, Amina, play nice. You’re here to do some scouting, and it might be easier if you didn’t do anything to draw too much attention to yourself. “Did you have any family or friends who changed?” I asked with an inquisitive look.
He turned from me and ordered drinks, getting two vodka tonics. So much for letting me pick my own poison. He turned back to me. “No. Everyone I knew either died from the Sickness or were killed by weres or some other monsters,” He replied, solemnly.
