by Laura Mae
“Oh good, you’re awake.” Raoul buzzed up to her chest and lay down to squeeze her in his mini-sized hug.
“What’s on my arm?” She panicked as she tried to lift up her hands, but they were restrained with plastic ties.
“I don’t know. It seems to have electricity running through it. Did you get shocked?” Raoul fluttered back over next to it.
“Well, yeah! It really hurt,” Sydona whispered loudly. “Where is everyone?”
“I don’t know. I saw you after I slipped out of Willow’s jacket, and I climbed on the cart they wheeled you in on. I didn’t see any sign of Silas or Gia.” He stroked her arm.
At a loss for words, Sydona paused but then asked even softer, “And Willow?”
“I think she left. She was playing along right up until she was taken to this room, and I think she lost it. Heard screaming and yelling toward the front of the cabin where we came in and then a slamming door and her cursing. At least I’m hoping she left. I can’t see them hurting a human,” Raoul said hesitantly.
Just then, the door creaked open, and Raoul disappeared from sight in a flash. In walked a man in an expensive looking, navy blue suit with a red striped tie and slicked back, shiny black hair. “I am so sorry about this,” he said with a hint of an Indian accent. “Hey, Frank! Get these restraints off her. What are you doing?”
Frank came through the door and put his assault rifle behind his back. He undid her restraints as quick as he could, then left the room without a single word.
“Miss. Please allow me to apologize. This is not how we normally operate here.” He shook his head and pulled up a rolling chair near Sydona. He examined her wrists. He had well-manicured hands, unlike her own. He glanced up at her and then smiled.
“I’m sorry. Please let me introduce myself. My name is Dr. John Malik. Welcome to Eagle Lake!”
Sydona couldn’t figure out how to react. The man she wanted to stop stood before her, but he came across as pleasant and welcoming. She thought back to the article. Was he genuinely excited about this whole thing? She kept her guard up. His act couldn’t fool her.
“Oh, and let me also apologize for the act at the front gate. That is uh--new. We have had some run ins with groups that don’t exactly agree with what we’re doing here. It’s just a precaution, but I promise you, it has no long term effects on you. Just puts you to sleep for a little bit,” he explained with well articulated speech and constant eye contact.
“Where are my friends?” Sydona spoke while hardly moving her lips.
“Oh, the man and teenager with you? You knew each other? Fascinating… Oh, but they’re fine. Already settled in, I imagine.” He smiled.
“What’s with the metal bracelet?” she asked, sitting more upright.
“Those silly old things? Another precaution. Just lets us keep track of everyone and gives us vitals when we need them in a pinch,” he said.
Sydona narrowed her eyes at his calm answer. If it was just a tracking device, why did it shock her when Raoul messed with it?
“Am I a prisoner here?” Her jaw tightened.
He laughed pretentiously. “Oh heavens no! Please don’t think of this place as a prison. Think of it as... a temporary vacation while you help the scientific community. What we are doing here is beyond anything you can imagine! The fact that you are here speaks volumes about the contribution you can make with us.”
Contribution , she thought to herself. What was that supposed to mean? Sydona decided to stop asking questions because she couldn’t tell what was real and what he made up. She just knew she needed to find her friends and figure out their next plan.
After a few silent minutes, the doctor spoke up. “Well, I can see you’re still in shock. I am very sorry about that again.” He stood up and placed the chair back where he found it. “If you need anything, anything at all, please let me know. It was very nice meeting you, Sydona,” he said and left the room.
The mentioning of her name made her heart jump. How did he know it? Her right index finger looked redder than normal, like it was pricked with something. Did they take blood samples? That must be how he knew her. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. And why didn’t Silas and Giovonna go through the same process?
Three men entered as the doctor exited. Two of the men had guns, and one carried a pile of clothes with a pair of white tennis shoes on top. He placed them on the table next to Sydona.
“Undress,” one of the guards said.
Sydona glanced at him while rubbing her wrists and scoffed at him.
He pointed his rifle at her. This was a prison.
“Does Dr. Malik know you’re doing this?” she challenged, hoping that she might be special and they would back off.
“Shut up and strip,” the same guard yelled and stepped closer, towering over her.
“Okay, okay.” She slid off the metal bed and slowly started removing her shirt, pants, socks, and shoes. She felt strange bruises in spots but had no idea how she had gotten them. Standing there in her undergarments, she reached back for the pile of blue clothes.
“Nope, keep going,” the guard stopped her and pointed at her with the rifle again.
Sydona stared blankly at them. “You must be joking.”
“Do it,” he said.
Sydona closed her eyes in embarrassment and did as she was told.
“ Pick your battles,” she said to herself, even though she heard the two dimwitted guards snickering to each other as they caught glimpses of her exposed skin. Silently, she placed her hand on the clothes and looked to the guards for confirmation. They nodded together, and she quickly got dressed. She slipped on a “one-size-fits-all” flesh colored bra and panties that were at least one size too big. Or maybe she had lost weight from the last few days because her ribs seemed more prominent than normal. These were paired with what looked like a nurse’s scrubs. The plain cobalt blue clothing could fit both herself and Giovonna at the same time. Her eyes morphed into auburn as she thought of her and Silas. She wasn’t sure if she should take the doctor for his word or not. Until she could physically see them, they could be dead for all she knew.
She slipped on her thin, white shoes and socks as the guards stood behind her, hinting it was time to leave the room. As one guard stood at the door like a wannabe soldier, one walked behind her at a frighteningly close distance. She glanced back to get another look at Raoul under the table, and he held out a thumbs-up. This made her heart smile; Raoul might have a plan.
They led her down a long hallway with many doors on either side like a doctor’s office. The whole place screamed hospital with Malik, her scrubs, and the men in white coats. The cabin that once held children’s activities and wildlife conservation exhibits was now turned into a full-on working hospital building with guards holding automatics and rifles. It felt as if they had transported her to another country. Once they left the hallway, she saw the front of the cabin still looked normal. The space still had paintings of what the park used to look like, displayed with stuffed animals, park maps and benches for visitors to sit on. Guards populated the area pretty well, but it looked as if the room was used for hanging out. Some were playing cards and chess while others sat by themselves with earphones in, bobbing their heads. She couldn’t escape their looks as some stared too long, making her feel hostile again. They opened the door, and though it was still dark out, it looked bright from the towering stadium lights surrounding the place. More shocking than the blinding lights in the middle of the night was the sea of tents laid out before her. The cabin was in the perfect location to oversee every single white tent.
She tried to count the tidy rows in the short time she could see them. She came up with about twenty by twenty before they continued down the flight of stairs and into the infestation of white tarps. As they walked by she heard bouts of crying and moaning from some of them that put a chill down her spine. They were some of the most depressing sounds she had ever heard, and what was worse was that she couldn’t help th
em at all; she had to ignore it and move on. The guards acted immune to this and just kept their eyes forward as they walked in front and behind her with guns in ready positions. They stopped at a tent with the number 43 written on the side-flap of the tent entrance in permanent black marker. Her throat felt lumpy as she wondered what she would find inside these pathetic excuses for shelter. Was this the temporary vacation that Dr. Malik had mentioned? Talk about false advertising. As she began to make her way inside, a guard blocked her with his massive hand, making her jump back.
“First rule here: absolutely no talking,” the burlier of the guards started. “Second rule: if you talk, you’ll wish we had cut your tongue out because you wouldn’t even be able to try to speak. Third: you have a bucket to relieve yourself. Once a week you are to empty it into the stream downwind. We will have a guard escort you, and today is Sunday, er technically Monday, so Thursday will be your day to empty it. Fourth: there are three meals a day held in a big tent to the north. We will announce which groups of tents will be going when. You must attend, or you do not eat. Fifth: bathing is optional, but if you start to piss us off because you smell so bad, you will be forced to bathe. It takes place higher up in the stream where we will give you a bar of soap, and this is done on Sundays. Sixth rule: we do the flying tests every Monday, and again, we will call up your tent number, and you will go to the far field west of the food tent. This is required, and you must attend. If you do not show, there will be severe consequences. Any questions?” he asked without looking very interested in her answer. Sydona shook her head after being overwhelmed with information.
“Good, get in.” He opened up the flap further.
She entered hesitantly, and the two guards left right away. The tent was even smaller than she had anticipated, and her head came within inches of touching the lowest part of the ceiling. A man slept on a cot to her right, and to her left was an empty cot with an embarrassingly thin gray blanket and a flat pillow on the end. On each end of the beds stood the buckets the guard talked about, which was probably cause for the bad smell. Her face scrunched up, and she pulled her shirt over her nose. A small makeshift table also sat in between them with a book and an oil lantern on top. The man was snoring and didn’t seem phased by the guard’s loud talking or the fact that it looked like daylight with the beaming lights. He was probably used to it. Luckily, their tent sat in a spot where a small amount of shade on her side made her cot darker. She lay down on the small one person bed and pulled the blanket up over herself.
The night grew colder and the crickets--the only sound that could coax her to sleep--began to fade. She felt exhausted, and the smell of the man’s bucket overwhelmed her. She wondered if his time to empty it was soon. Laying there, alone and cold, she couldn’t help but to try to figure out how she ended up in this situation. Their plan completely backfired, and she couldn’t fathom the amount of guards they had; it was like a max prison but worse. At least in jail they had actual beds, real toilets, and showers with running water. She dared not think about the food they gave them, though she was surprised they fed them at all. But then again, they would need live subjects for their experiments.
The blanket did squat to protect against the cold that crept into the tent from a small hole she saw in the corner next to her head. Doing her best, she rested her eyelids, sighed deeply, and tried to think of positive things. She was still alive, and that was good. Raoul was still there, and he might have a plan on what to do next. Flashes of the conversation with Malik crept into her mind. When he mentioned the groups that didn’t agree with them, did he mean the Sparrows? Why did Willow leave? Her suspicions about Willow were coming back. Could she have been playing them all along? The act that she put on was eerily convincing, too. She exhausted herself trying to figure out how to answer all the questions in her head at once. She let her eyes droop and tried to get some sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
“Hey! You better wake up if you wanna eat!” She was awoken from a dreamless, short sleep by an older woman shaking her violently.
Sydona threw the blanket off her face and squinted at the woman as if she didn’t hear anything she just said.
“What?” Sydona asked groggily.
“Food! You wanna eat, right, newbie?” she repeated.
“I guess?” Sydona shrugged.
“Well come on then!” The lady whipped the blanket off her and grabbed her arm. “They only give us so much time to eat. If you miss it, you don’t eat!”
Sydona rubbed her face and eyes before following the woman out of the tent into the madness that took place outside. It was as if cattle were being directed into the slaughterhouse. Some fliers walked, and some ran like the kid who bumped into her from behind and apologized as he disappeared into the crowd. How old are you? she thought to herself. He couldn’t have been older than ten.
From the corner of her eye she saw Dr. Malik again, and he made his way over to her. He had his hand out while smiling at her. Sydona shook it hesitantly.
“How did you sleep last night, Miss Wilder?” he asked.
Sydona laughed to herself, thinking he couldn’t be serious about the question. Afraid of saying the wrong thing, Sydona only shrugged.
He laughed. “Miss Wilder, you don’t need to be shy. How was it?”
Sydona had many things she wanted to say about the conditions of her tent and bed, but felt this wasn’t the time or place. “Pathetic.”
“Really?” He moved his sunglasses to the top of his head. “How so?”
Sydona’s heart pounded harder with each word he spoke, afraid he would show his true colors. She took a gulp as she pondered over the right words to say. “The blankets are really thin, and it was cold last night.”
His face hardened at her words, and he closed his eyes. Her breathing quickened and her eyes turned brown.
“I am so sorry about the condition of your room,” he said with sympathy and compassion. “I will make sure to get an extra blanket sent over right away. Remind me of your number again?”
“43.”
“Right.” He looked around for a guard. “Hey, you.”
A guard promptly walked over and stood at attention for the doctor.
“Give Miss Wilder here an extra blanket for her room. Number 43.”
“Yes sir!” The guard hustled inside the cabin.
Dr. Malik turned his attention back to Sydona. “There, you see. We’re not all bad. I want to make sure you are comfortable at every moment of your stay with us.”
He put his sunglasses back on, patted Sydona on the shoulder, and walked away.
Sydona wasn’t sure what to think of the exchange. He didn’t seem to show much interest in any other fliers here. Why did he single her out among the other people around?
Sydona slowly flowed back in the direction of the people-herd. She wasn’t even all that hungry. They all gathered under two big tents with rows of long wooden tables like a school cafeteria. She found herself standing in line for food, being shoved along the way, and grabbing a tray absentmindedly like she saw the people in front of her do. As she looked around, she noticed that there were probably hundreds of fliers in this tent, and yet, it was almost completely silent. There were the sounds of silverware clanking, feet scuttling, coughing, and throat clearing, but no one seemed to be talking to each other at all, not even whispering.
Next thing she knew, it was her turn for food, and she placed her paper plate on the counter as they scooped up a mess of brown stuff that looked like a liquid meatloaf.
“Is there meat in this?” Sydona leaned in and whispered to the lady with a hair net.
She looked right through her and pushed her plate down the line as she was given more slop in a variety of colors. Grabbing a cup of questionable liquid from a tray at the end of the bar, she searched for someplace to eat. But mainly she tried to find Giovonna or Silas. She scanned the room in search of curly black hair and shaggy black hair, but she saw a sea of people from all walks of life. There
were older folks that had so many wrinkles that she guessed they were in their hundreds, and there were kids as young as eight. She saw the kid who bumped into her sitting at a table with a bunch of adults scarfing down the slop. She tried to imagine being a kid in this place, not being able to talk, play, be around other kids, or even go to school. It was so cruel and almost too much for her to handle, but just then, she saw a hand waving in the air from the corner; it was Giovonna. Sydona’s face lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning and even more when she saw Silas sitting next to her. She practically threw her mush down on the table and squeezed Giovonna harder than she had ever hugged a person before. As she let go, Silas went in to hug her, but Sydona took a step back. It was an awkward ten seconds, but then Sydona stuck her hand out, and they shook hands. Her stomach did flips over the weird exchange, but she shook it off. They were both wearing the same blue uniforms as herself, and Giovonna’s clothes swallowed her.
“Are you okay?” Sydona whispered as softly as she could to Giovonna.
Giovonna shook her head. “Syd, I’m scared…” She trembled with tears in her eyes.
Sydona immediately brought her in for another hug, even tighter, hoping it would comfort her. “It’ll be okay.”
“This is a prison. How is it going to be okay?” Giovonna squeaked, trying to keep her voice down.
She was right. How could Sydona tell her things would get better? She didn’t know how things were going to turn out. She held Giovonna even longer while she searched for an answer, but she still came up blank.
“Just trust me, okay?” Sydona pulled her away.
Guards were eyeing them, and afraid of breaking the rules, Sydona finally sat down next to Giovonna. The young girl held her hand tightly, fearing that she would be ripped away from Sydona again. Sydona squeezed her hand back with two pulses to somehow convey to her that she had things under control even though she was clueless.
Despite Giovonna’s appropriately terrified feelings, Sydona was still happy to see them alive and well. This was the happiest she had felt since arriving at the camp, and she couldn’t stop smiling at the both of them. Eventually she had to look down at her food, and her smile slowly faded. Scooping up the brown stuff, she sniffed it, smelled meat, and plopped it back down. She moved on to the green mush, thinking it had a chance of being something more vegetable like. She daringly let her tongue touch it, and it wasn’t as bad as she had anticipated, so she took a mouthful. Her garden called out to her with its crisp green beans, big carrots, plump tomatoes, and giant potatoes; her mouth watered, and then the green mush tasted terrible. The fork dropped to the table with a bang, making the other two jump and stare at her. Sydona stuck her tongue out with a sour face, and they laughed silently.
