by K. Weikel
Ten
I wake up to three solid cement walls around me, and a clear door leading to the hallway. Bars make up the fourth wall to my right, their silvery-gray color shining dully in the dim lighting of the cell. I can see Hemmings pacing and limping on the other side of the bars, his room almost an exact reflection of mine.
A huge migraine hits me like a bus, and I rub my throbbing temples, in hope the pain would disappear soon. My fingers hit the bump on my head and I groan as I lay back down on the floor in surrender. I didn’t ask for this.
“They hit you with the butt of a gun,” I hear Hemmings say. I look at him, still touching the bump. He taps on the side of his forehead.
I frown at him.
“Sorry. I kind of fell. You shouldn’t have shot me in the leg with an arrow,” He chuckles, his eyes lighting up a bit. He looks at the ground like he’s lost in thought. “You know, you sure are something else.”
A small smile forms on his lips as he glances back up at me. He starts to pace the room again.
My eyebrows furrow, my brain confused and dazed by the headache splitting my head in two. Pain rips through my shoulder as I heave myself off the ground.
“How is any of this funny to you?” I snap at Hemmings as he chuckles again.
I walk toward the bars that separate us, holding my arm with my hand on the opposite side to relieve some of the pain burning through my shoulder.
“None of it’s funny,” He says quietly as he walks over to the bars as well and locks his brown eyes on mine. “You’re just so…”
His fingers touch my cheek, and, instinctively, I pull away. He shakes his head, as if trying to make a thought disappear.
I cross my arms across my chest and bite my lip.
“Hemmings—”
“Peter.”
“What?” I say, stepping closer to the bars and wrapping my right hand around one of them, waiting to hear what he said again, waiting to hear if I heard him right or not.
“Peter,” He says again, looking up at me. His movements almost seem… shy. “My name is Peter Hemmings.”
Nad.
“Peter…” I whisper, looking at him wildly. He gives me a strange look as a smile quickly spreads across my face. “Peter Hemmings… You’re Nad’s brother!” I exclaim. I laugh at the chances of meeting him the way I did. The way it all happened. It couldn’t be fate… There’s no such thing… right?
“Nad? You—” He says, hobbling forward, putting his hands on he bars. “My sister? You know her?”
I nod and he smiles, tears filling his eyes as he pushes his hair back and steps away from the bars for a moment.
“My sister…” He laughs again. “How is she? She was supposed to start her job as an analyzer—how is she?”
My smile falters a little.
“Well, she’s not an analyzer, but she is a Mechaneer. And—and she loves it! She’s great, she really is.”
Hemmings—Peter laughs one more time and reaches through the bars to take ahold of my face, pressing his lips to mine. I pull away, and he stares at me.
He blinks.
“Oh…” He pulls his hands back and steps away awkwardly. “Sorry.”
I burst out into a fit of giggles that turn into laughter. My head is buzzing with energy and it pounds out my headache. My heart beats fast, adrenaline pumping through my veins, making my hands shake. Peter’s face turns red as he turns in circles scratching his head. Finally he faces me again, his eyes mixed with the emotions of excitement, embarrassment, rage… and happiness.
“What?” He snaps.
I stop laughing and swallow, the corners of my mouth still turning up a bit.
“It’s just… I don’t know…” I say, kicking the dirt on the ground with my foot.
“Know what?” He asks, suddenly angry.
I look at him, trying not to smile, and then at the ground, suddenly embarrassed. “Nothing, I just thought it was—”
Cute.
I was going to say cute.
Instead, I shake my head, which was a mistake because my migraine hits me again, and I place my hand on my forehead.
“I thought it was… um…” Another word. I need another word…
A shout slips under my door as I watch a haggard man struggle against two guards pass my door. I hear him yelling out for me as our eyes lock. Without thinking, I run to the door and slam against it, my shoulder burning. I start to bang on the door.
“What are you doing?” Peter yells at me, clinging to the bars of the cell.
I keep hitting the door with my fists, trying to make as much noise as possible. I want to help this man, and this is the only thing I can think of doing.
I see one of the guards turn my way and start walking briskly toward my cell. Every inch of the clear door fills with the image of his body.
What did I get myself into?
I glance at Peter as the door slides open. The man steps inside and I back up a bit more, afraid of what’s to come.
“Run!” Peter yells.
I dart out of the door and down the hallway, away from the man who had cried for help. The door slides closed as I exit and the second guard sprints after me, talking into a small walkie-talkie on his shoulder.
Up ahead, there are three hallways, three separate paths splitting into the shape of a fork. I would have a thirty-three percent chance of making it out alive if one of these leads to an exit and there are no guards blocking it. If.
I chuckle a little under my breath. I sound like Nad.
Nad.
Peter.
I stop running.
I left Peter.
I’ll get him later. He’ll understand, I think, and run down the far left hallway. I see a door on my left, and I open it up and run into the darkness of the room, quietly shutting the door. I hear pounding footsteps outside, getting closer.
I’ll just wait until it’s clear, and then I’ll go back and get him…
“Get… out…” A cold, breathy voice slices through the air.
A chill goes up my spine.
The voice sounds inhuman.
“Get… out…” The voice breathes.
I hear the scuffling of feet behind me.
I whip around, scanning the room, but it’s too dark to see anything. Little specks of light dance around my vision, as if my brain is trying to find anything that can give off some sort of light, some sort of way to see.
“Please…” I gulp, my breathing loud. “Please don’t make me leave. Not yet. Please.”
“Why…?” The voice slurps. “Why should I… let you stay… when you are a danger… to me?”
My brain whirrs with an answer. Why should he? Maybe this is his home. Maybe this is where he stays, and maybe he’s territorial. Maybe I’m the intruder that’s breaking into his house. Or maybe this is a prison. Maybe this is where they sent him. Maybe he’s stuck, locked up, and maybe he can’t get out.
“I—I can help you,” I try to keep my voice low and quiet. “I can help you escape.”
More shuffling of feet.
“Alright, girl…” The voice spits. “How…?”
So I guess right about the prison thing.
I see sort of a silhouette as the voice gets closer to me, and I can smell its putrid breath as it speaks.
“I know the way out.”
“Maybe so…” He says. “But… you’d have to make it… past the guards… and that is almost impossible…”
“I can do it. I have a friend and he knows his way around this place. I bet he could do it with his eyes closed… But with him I can do it. And—and I can come back to get you.”
“I’ll tell you what, girl…” The voice says slowly. “If you escape… come back and get me… If you do… I’ll answer three of your questions…”
“You want me to leave you here?” I say softly.
“For now…” The voice hisses. “It seems… like the guards have stopped looking for you… time to escape…”
I strain
my eyes to try to see the figure, but no luck comes of it, and I just end up closing my eyes to stop the headache that’s making its way back to me.
“Why is it so dark?”
“You’re running out of time…”
“Who are you?”
“They’ll be coming back…”
“Why are you here?”
“Run…!”
The door opens, and I am shoved out into the light of the hallway, my body hitting the ground with a hard thud. I spin around just in time to see a fully black eye.
